Today is a tough one

I’ve been doing a lot a reading and bunches of remembering. Not always a good combination for me this time of year. In my reading I have tried to find advice on learning to move on through my grief. Or so I thought. It seems that the more I read, the more I realize that what I want to do is actually forget my grief and not remember it. This is not possible I have discovered.

I’ve read accounts of amputees who have phantom pain in their missing limbs. It seems that is one way to describe what I feel. You see, a part of me is missing and I can still feel that part in my movements through the day and through my memories. When I make plans to go out shopping, I instinctively think about where my family members are and when they will be arriving home. Then the pain washes over me as I remember Matthew is not here.

Posted Jun 10, 2006 6:28pm

Yesterday we found out that the judge presiding over Matthew’s SSI claim for disability has made a ruling. We have not been told if it was in Matthew’s favor or not. The attorney believes it is. We should find out in a few more days, but it may take up to 2 weeks for us to be notified.

In the meantime, Kim and Pat went home last night to be with Stephanie and Zachary and to try to get some rest before this next difficult week. Today Zachary and Stephanie came to the hospital to spend some time with Matt. It was hard on all involved and many tears have been shed with the knowledge that many more will be shed as we begin the grief process.

Matthew has had his sedation medication reduced by half again today, but has not been able to wake up. His body is tired and fighting some major infections. If he is able to tolerate the reduction in the sedation again tomorrow, we will do that again. This is to help him be weaned from this med and the ventilation tube. After that, we hope to keep him comfortable with pain management medication until he and God decide it is time for him to go home.

We appreciate your prayers and love for each of us, and thank you for respecting this time we spend together as a family.

Now, let me share a few things with you. Please be kind enough to not offer me trite sayings that disguise themselves as words of comfort. Pray for me. Pray for all of us. But more importantly, if you knew Matthew – even for a day or a single moment – share your memory with me. Tell me about his laughter or his funny remark to you. Tell me about his stubborn refusal to do what you asked of him. Tell me about the blank stare he gave you during a conversation. But don’t pity me and give me words that make you more comfortable in moving on.

I hope you understand that I was blessed beyond measure to have been able to be Matthew’s mom and my heart is missing a piece while he is away from me. My comfort is found in hearing the memories that you have and knowing that he is not forgotten.

And the cry of my heart is to bring You praise
From the inside out, O my soul cries out

My Soul cries out to You
My Soul cries out to You
to You, to You

Nightmares and Second Guesses

“Posted May 27, 2006 6:52pm:

Kim and Stephanie are at the emergency room with Matthew right
now. His heart rate was 147 and his blood pressure was 38/78. The
on-call hematologist thinks this is due to low red cell count so
Matthew may need a blood transfusion tonight.”

I have been reflecting on the decisions we made surrounding Matthew’s illness and the treatment he received. This entry (above) was made the day after he graduated from high school. Our household had company from out-of-state that had come up to celebrate that very special occasion and to spend some time with Matthew now that he was home from the hospital. Kim & I had spent a few hours visiting with another family friend who had also just graduated high school. As I sit here trying to communicate the situation we were in and the feelings that were going through my head, the memories are so vivid that they threaten to overwhelm me.

Questions have run around in my head since that time. Questions such as, “Why did I have Stephanie go with Kim & Matthew instead of me?” Was it my own laziness, or was it that I just didn’t want to deal with the hospital stress again? Did the sense of obligation to be a “good” daughter and to entertain our company color my judgment in taking care of my son? So many questions. And no possible way for me to find the answers.

I feel so much guilt and shame. I want to go back in time and change the way I did things, reevaluate my decisions, and have another chance to be the kind of mom I want to be to my children. I can’t do any of that for Matthew. So now, I just second guess myself.

And that’s where the nightmares start.
(To read more, go to: barefootpreachr.wordpress.com)

Where is God's perfection?

Every so often I come across a story that makes me pause and wonder. When I read this one I could not help but wonder if my son ever knew how perfect we thought he was. His disabilities made him more perfect because he accepted and loved everyone he met for who they were in their imperfections. I have to admit, he was one of my hero's and I miss him terribly.

"In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning-disabled children. Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career, while others can be main-streamed into conventional schools.

At a Chush fund-raising dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.

After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out, "Where is the perfection in my son Shaya? Everything God does is done with perfection. But my child cannot understand things as other children do. My child cannot remember facts and figures as other children do. Where is God's perfection?"

The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the father's anguish and stilled by the piercing query. "I believe," the father answered,"that when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that He seeks is in the way people react to this child."

He then told the following story about his son Shaya:

One afternoon Shaya and his father walked past a park where some boys Shaya knew were playing baseball. Shaya asked, "Do you think they will let me play?" Shaya's father knew that his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team. But Shaya's father understood that if his son was chosen to play it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging.

Shaya's father approached one of the boys in the field and asked if Shaya could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his team-mates.

Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said, "We are losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning."

Shaya's father was ecstatic as Shaya smiled broadly. Shaya was told to put on a glove and go out to play short center field.

In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shaya's team scored again and now with two outs and the bases loaded with the potential winning run on base, Shaya was scheduled to be up. Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shaya was given the bat. Everyone knew that it was all but impossible because Shaya didn't even know how to hold the bat properly,let alone hit with it. However, as Shaya stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shaya should at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came in and Shaya swung clumsily and missed. One of Shaya's team-mates came up to Shaya and together they held the bat and faced the pitcher waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shaya.

As the pitch came in, Shaya and his team-mate swung the bat and together they hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shaya would have been out and that would have ended the game. Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first baseman.

Everyone started yelling, "Shaya, run to first. Run to first!" Never in his life had Shaya run to first. He scampered down the baseline wide eyed and startled. By the time he reached first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman who would tag out Shaya, who was still running. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher's intentions were, so he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman's head.

Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second." Shaya ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases towards home. As Shaya reached second base, the opposing short stop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base and shouted, "Run to third." As Shaya rounded third, the boys from both teams ran behind him screaming,"Shaya run home!" Shaya ran home, stepped on home plate and all 18 boys lifted him on their shoulders and made him the hero, as he had just hit a "grand slam" and won the game for his team.

That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "those 18 boys reached their level of God's perfection."~ Author Unknown"

Matthew - we miss you and we love you - always & forever.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect. For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think, but to think with sober judgement, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. ~ Romans 12:2-3

A Blue Christmas

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.” ~ Colossians 3:12-14

After taking a few days off from the ministry work of the Christmas season to simply enjoy the time with my family and this very special time of year, I find myself facing the post-holiday blahs like so many other people do. I am sure that some of these feelings are due to the fact that it’s cold outside and I have the remnants of a wonderful holiday strewn about my house – including the debris of wrapping paper yet to go to the trashman and a fridge full of leftovers! Some of the feelings I am experiencing can also be attributed to the normal “holiday blues” that we all feel after any holiday experience. Yet for some reason, this year feels different.

These past few months have been a definite growing season for me. My faith has been strengthened, tested, challenged and affirmed. I am moving into a deeper understanding of the role God has called me to live out through my service as a pastor. I am also learning to be more accepting of the role God has called me to fill and recognizing my limitations are exactly what He is using to minister in the place I am serving. I think I am also coming to terms with my deep grief over my brother’s murder and my son’s death. This is the part of my spiritual growth that I am most uncomfortable with.

As we let go of those old feelings of grief, despair, hurt, anger, unforgiveness and all the other negative emotions we carry around from our past, we limit our ability to fully live the life of God has in store for each of us. As I have spent more time in study of God’s Word, there has been a growing fullness in my soul and the grief has subsided. Now to be sure, I continue to mourn the absence in this life of Mark and Matthew and my soul aches in an indescribable manner. But, my grief is finding solace and comfort as I move into becoming more of who God wants me to be.

The problem isn’t with the notion of being one of God’s holy, chosen people, BUT in living like one of God’s holy, chosen people! This isn’t an easy issue to resolve -Mark’s death is still with me after more than 13 years – but I believe that I can see the flicker of a life lived fully as one His dearly loved children.

JOY!

“Look! The virgin will conceive a child! She will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel which means ‘God is with us.’” - Matthew 1:23

 Daniel in the lion’s den
 Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in the fiery furnace

What’s the common denominator? In the midst of difficulty, God was with them. Being God, He could have easily saved them, transported them from their difficulties. Instead He chose to reveal His power through the trials, rather than remove them.

The Bible promises good things to those who seek the Lord, but there’s no guarantee this life will be easy. Trials and difficulties are a part of life.

In April of this year I was diagnosed with a rare but treatable form of cancer. Following my first surgery our water heater exploded and flooded our house. Then my grandmother passed away. I’ve been a Christian for 30 years, and the Lord was with me, but I struggled and cried and sought the Lord. Was this act of seeking and not understanding non-Christian behavior? No! I trusted God and found my joy in the fact He never wastes our present pains and trials.

Life was hard, but I found joy in the day-to-day relationship I had with my God. He never left me and I found that, despite my circumstances, I had joy. James 1:2 says when troubles come our way we should consider it an opportunity for joy.

During my time of great need, I knew God was with me and His nearness gave me joy. We can also rejoice in the fact we have a God who wants to be our intimate friend. He’s not far-removed in heaven on a throne. Jesus was God come to Earth and we can rejoice in the fact there’s no emotion or trial we will ever face that Jesus didn’t experience first-hand.

Joy comes in knowing God will NEVER leave you. He will never turn a deaf ear to your heartfelt prayers. He is interested in every detail of your life. God is with you! Rejoice!

~ Amy

Giving - thanks

The following is a portion of the sermon I shared this past Sunday with the congregation present at my local church. If any of it sounds familiar, or you think you deserve credit for a portion of it, please contact me. It has been said that a sermon is made up of the study, life, and ideas of the preacher - and everyone s/he has ever heard or read! So, in that perspective - pause, think, be grateful.


“The day is coming when Jesus will come as King to reclaim the world and to judge all that is in it. That day is nearer now than it has ever been before. You can't argue with logic like that can you! When the Son of man comes as King, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. And the people of all the nations will be gathered before him, and he will divide the people into two groups, just as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put one group on his right and the other on his left.

Then the King will say to those on his right, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; For I was hungry,

because sometimes I just couldn't make ends meet. After my divorce from my husband and without a high school diploma, I just couldn’t get a job that would pay the rent and put food on the table for my children and save a little for the unexpected. I was usually able to keep us going, but sometimes the money just wouldn’t stretch. Kids grow so quickly! and with the cold weather that came – I just had to buy a coat for my little girl. And wouldn’t you know it, my car wouldn’t start the next morning – the battery was too weak. I managed to hitch a ride from a passing motorist, but I had to buy a new one so I could get to work again – I can’t afford to miss a day of work. By the time I'd paid for the battery, the rent, and for the coat, my whole paycheck was gone and I had nothing left for food. Well a good mother can't starve her children, can she? We had enough food in the house so I could feed the kids’ dinner each night, and I knew that they would be given breakfast and lunch at school, but I hadn't really eaten myself for a few days when you found out what was happening. And then you gave me food. You gave me some boxes and canned goods from your own pantry and some zucchinis you had put up from your own garden. And you didn't make me feel patronized or pitied, you treated me as a friend, as though you reckoned I'd do the same for you, and as though you really enjoyed my company. And you proved that that was true because the next week when I had some money again and I didn't need help, you asked me and the kids over for dinner and you sat and listened to my story. And you shared your story with me. You became my friend instead of just another do-gooder.

“Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; For I was a stranger,

I was lonely. Even though I was living in one of the most populated areas of North Georgia, I knew nobody who cared about me and I had nobody I could really call a friend. I thought my English was passable when I moved here but I found it very hard to understand what people are saying and to follow a conversation. I mean, I couldn't work out what someone meant when he said, "He's country as a bowl of grits." And, “Is he’in yore kin?” or “That dog don't hunt.” I guess there was still a lot I had to learn about the manners in this place. I didn't really know how to make friends here, I didn't understand the sense of humor and I didn't know what to say or how to behave, and that makes you feel pretty uncomfortable. No one wants to know you when you don't fit in and when nobody wants to know you, you never will. But you were different; you offered me your hand and you called me "friend". You were patient with me when I didn't understand things and you took the time to explain and to help me to feel comfortable. You introduced me to your circle of friends and together you gave me time and companionship. You took the time to ask about me and about my home. A few of you helped me with all the paperwork and the immigration department so my family and I could be reunited. You got personally involved instead of leaving it to the professionals. You made it clear that your homes were open to me and together you made me feel loved, accepted and valued; you gave me a people, a family, a home.

“Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; For I was cold

and homeless, because a property development company had bought the trailer park where I lived and several others in the area, and rather than maintain them they had let them fall into ruin until they were ordered to close them down. The developer wanted to demolish them anyway to make way for a new shopping center, and I, along with my girlfriend and our baby and many other people, were evicted. There was no where else for us to go because this was happening all over the area, not enough alternative low cost housing was being provided, people didn’t want “that” kind of development in their neighborhood. But you took a personal interest and found us a spare room until we could find a suitable place to go. Then you, and some of your friends got together and organized a network of people who had spare rooms and could do the same when necessary, and you helped us to deal with real estate agents and landlords so that we could get a small apartment to live in. You put your own reputation on the line when you lobbied the government and the county commission and the developers, calling for them to act quickly to ensure that the supply of low cost housing were maintained so that our story would not be repeated over and over again.

“Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; For I was sick.

I was scared and I was scarred, inside and out. I ran away from my family when I was 12 years old because my daddy had been forcing me to have sex with him since I was eight years old and I couldn't take it any more. But then having got away from that, the only way I could survive was to prostitute myself on the streets of Atlanta to the hundreds of men who are only too willing to part with 20 dollars for half an hour with a pubescent kid. I cringed and screamed inside every time they touched me, but you've got to eat somehow, and you've got to do something to numb the pain. Some people seem to be able to, but soon I couldn't let them touch me with their filthy grasping hands unless I was smacked off my brain, and shooting up ain't cheap so I just had to work more and more. You'd reached out to me before, but I'd turned away; you didn't belong in my world and I was sure I wasn't good enough for yours. But at 19, when I was lying in a bed in Northside Hospital dying of AIDS, you came again, and you sat with me, you talked to me, and you listened to my story, you brought me flowers and told me that you loved me. You could have just given a donation to the hospital or something but you chose to give yourself. No one had ever kissed me before without demanding sex but you kissed me on my cheek without asking anything of me, just to say you cared. And you held my hand and you cried with me and comforted me as I died.

“Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; For I was in prison.

I was arrested and, fair enough, I was guilty but it's scary and lonely in there shut off from the world. But you came and visited me, you made the effort to personally come there to see me. And then you came back with some of your friends, and you all started visiting me and some other prisoners regularly. You helped me to know that there were still some on the outside who cared about me, who respected my human dignity and recognized the image of God in me. And you worked for prison reform and for prison accountability so that I wouldn't just be brutalized by the system and come out worse than I went in.

Then the righteous will answer him,

"Lord, we can remember a lot of hungry people but when did we see you hungry and feed you? When did we see you a stranger and invite you into our circle of friends? When were you evicted and we set you up in a new place? We can remember quite a few people we put up for a week or so but I'm sure we'd remember you if you'd been at our place; I mean, those scars in your hands are pretty distinctive, we wouldn't have forgotten them. And when were you sick and dying? I remember the hospital but I don't remember seeing you there. And when were you in prison and we came to visit you?"

The King will reply, "I tell you the truth, whenever you did this for one of the least important of these brothers and sisters of mine, You did it for me."

Then he will say to those on his left, “You who are cursed, depart from me; Away to the eternal fire that has been prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry

when my simple paycheck didn't go the distance. And you heard about me and you said that people like me should be more responsible with our money and I'd have to wait until I got another check. And that anyway people shouldn't have kids if they can’t afford to care for them, so it was really my own fault and I'd have to live with the consequences of my own irresponsibility.

You who are cursed, depart from me; for I was a stranger

in an unfamiliar land, and you made no effort to understand. You thought that I was just ignorant and rude and that I should learn English if I want to come to this country. You said that people like me were taking jobs away from good, honest, hard working Americans. Besides, you had heard that people from my part of the world were lazy and dishonest, and were responsible for a lot of gang violence in some parts of town and so you were afraid that I'd be a bad influence on your kids so you kept your distance. Nothing I could do was ever likely to help win my way into your circle of friends.

You who are cursed, depart from me; for I was cold and homeless

when the developers evicted me so they could bulldoze the trailer park I lived in to make way for another shopping mall, then you wouldn’t have to drive as far. You said if there was a problem with homelessness, someone should form a committee and do something about it. You had seen people who'd lived in trailer parks before and you thought that they usually weren't very fine people so it was a job for a professional. And the guy who broke into your house last year and took the video and the stereo had been living in a trailer park not far away. You felt that this was not the kind of area to have trailer parks in it and so it was better for the community that they were closed down. Besides, you said, no-one can stand in the way of the market forces, and having trailer parks on prime real estate was such a waste! And you know, that shopping mall sounds like a pretty good investment.

You who are cursed, depart from me; for I was sick,

I was dying of aids. I was a shattered and broken kid who never really had a chance. And the closest you ever came to taking any notice of me was when you wrote to the county commissioners saying that you didn't feel safe to leave your car doors unlocked or walk down the streets any more and that they should do something about keeping prostitutes and drug addicts of the streets. And as for dying of AIDS I guess you figured that it wouldn't be safe to come near me and that anyway it was surely the judgment of God for my sinful lifestyle and I deserved to die alone.

You who are cursed, depart from me; for I was in prison

and did you care? No, you were pleased because you figured that society needed to be protected from people like me. You figured I had to be made to pay for my crimes, and that I needed to be taught a lesson and made an example of. You were a bit worried because the courts seemed to be getting so lenient these days and in no time at all maybe I would be back on the streets. "Doesn't deserve to be treated like a human being, throw away the key," you said, and you wrote to your local congressman to advocate the use of capital punishment.

They also will answer,

"Lord, when did we see you hungry and not feed you? We didn't know, you must have us mixed up with someone else. Well, can you get you something now perhaps? When did we see you lonely and lost in a strange culture? You were Jewish or something weren't you, we figured that the Jewish community was pretty good at looking after their own. When did we see you homeless? I can't remember ever seeing anyone who was homeless, except maybe on the news reports; You weren't one of those kids on the television with the torn jeans and tattoos or something were you? When did we see you sick or in prison and did not visit you? We'd have come for sure if we'd known you were in there. We gave some money to the hospital charity, doesn't that count for something?"

He will reply, "Get away from me, for I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least or the dirtiest or the weirdest or the sickest of these, my brothers and sisters, you did not do for me. You who are cursed, depart from me;. Away to the eternal fire that has been prepared for the devil and his angels."

Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.
~ Matthew 25:31-46

We are given some clear guidelines on what we are called to do as followers of Christ as we seek justice, share mercy, and give generously to the work of God’s kingdom.

So as you sit down this week at your table for Thanksgiving dinner, say thank you for your family – for your children, for your brothers and sisters in Christ, even for your crazy Aunt Beth! Say thank you for the food you are about to eat – for the fried turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, and rolls - even for the creamed peas. Say thank you for your warm homes, your health, your safety, and then get a good night of sleep in your own bed, because there are the least and the lost amongst us and there is work for us to do!

Email from God

I had a moment today - a God moment.

How often have you gone about your day doing what you felt was what you had to do because it is what you are designed to do, only to feel at the end of your day an emptiness in the meaning of your work? I have felt that way more often than I care to admit. In the world of pastoral vocation we have the blessing and the joy to serve God. Hallelujah! Yet ... there are days when clergy of the small church are so emptied out with caring for others, doing the bulletins, tidying the office and sanctuary, and working on the million other mundane tasks of the office, that we lose the joy of prayer and preparation. We lose focus on the knowledge and hope that Sunday is coming!

Well, today was one of those days. I have had so many ministry tasks to juggle and the stress of several significant changes to process that my joy was simply running-on-empty. After driving an hour to a meeting that ran for almost three hours and then driving home for another hour, I had to work on some paperwork and get ready for another meeting. My mind was overtired and my heart was heavy and I just wanted to walk away for awhile. Instead, I dutifully sat down to work on the next task of the day and began sorting through my email. That's when my God moment happened!

In my email was a message from someone who had heard me speak recently. This individual was so touched by God's spirit that they "had to" share what was on their heart with me. That simple gesture by this person affirmed and lifted me in a way that doesn't happen often. I knew that God was speaking to me and telling me, "Well done good and faithful one" through the words and testimony of another. This message has filled my heart with joyful anticipation to embrace the next step God is calling me to. Please continue in prayer that I may be worthy of the task set before me and that God may be glorified through the process!

Thank you my friend for your obedience to our Lord in sharing your message with me. I have been touched and have felt the fingerprint of God on my heart today.

"The man with the two talents also came. 'Master,' he said, 'you entrusted me with two talents; see, I have gained two more.'"His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!' ~ Matthew 25:22-23

This can't be said enough ...

This was written on our son's carepage five months after his 20th birthday. It is still relevant today and I wanted to share it with you.

7 Ways You Can Help Me in My Grief written 10/30/06

1. Don’t try to “Fix-It.” Try to listen to me without judgment. I don’t need you to “fix” my pain, anger or tears. Just allow me to share it with you.

2. Say it with Food, and Hugs and written notes. Now more than ever, we need to know how much you love us and are praying for us. Bring us a meal occasionally – we have days that we don’t even know what to prepare for dinner and can’t figure out how to prepare it even if we know we have it in the house! Hug us often and say “I love you,” or “I’m praying for you” with actions and words, over and over again – even if you think we know it. Write a note and tell us what you remember about our loved one or what he meant to your life. And then write us another note to mark the anniversary – by weeks, months – or other special occasions. (Letters in the mail, cards with little remembrances, are tangible prayers that we can hold in our hands as well as our hearts.)

3. Offer Specific Help. “Call me if there is anything I can do” is just too hard for me to do right now – I don’t really know what I need to do and I certainly don’t know what to tell you to do! So offer specific help. Can I shop for your groceries? Can I drive you to a doctor’s appointment? Arrange to take us out for coffee or lunch – individually, so we can talk. Run errands – the cleaners, drug store, post office, bank deposits. Arrange among our circle of friends to deliver meals. Set up a cooler outside the door – so we don’t feel obligated to meet and greet each meal delivery – and drop off dinners there.

4. Faraway Friends. You’re halfway across the country, but you desperately want to help us. You know us – we feel passionately about helping others struggle with cancer and finding new treatments and will appreciate if you participate in a walk-a-thon, or rally a group to do so in Matthew’s honor.

5. Deliver Comfort - Pamper Us. When we are at home just stop by with special little things to make us feel special. This is especially important for the kids – Zachary and Stephanie – they get overlooked in their grief as folks ask “How are your mom and doing?” Take a good book, a couple of magazines, or a gift card to the local video store. Drop by with a couple of milkshakes or a favorite coffee drink or favorite snack.

6. Just Be There. When you are hit with such a tragedy you are hurled into a world that is very unfamiliar, scary and lonely. Suddenly you do not feel like you are a “normal” person anymore but that we belong to a club no one ever wants to be a part of. And people react to you in very interesting ways. Some good some bad. Each family member is an individual dealing with our pain and stress in our own way.

7. Ask us what we need without judgment – and then ask us when you see us again, and then again. At the time you ask, we may not be able to answer you. Remember, some of us want to talk - some don't. Some need to retreat - some don't. And these needs change day-to-day. We need above all else to feel unconditionally loved, supported, respected and part of the world. “Love is such a curative property that it cannot be quantified.”

I’ve added an eighth way:
8. Help Us Remember. One of our greatest fears is that we will forget Matthew – what his voice sounded like, what he looked like, his favorite food, how he laughed, what it felt like to have him hug us. So, talk to us about him – mention his name, tell us the stories you remember, write the stories down and share them with us! Also, ask others to honor Matthew’s memory and share Matt’s story with someone else.

Now for an update...
Remember our pain and grief still lives within us. Our son is still DEAD! He isn't gone, he hasn't been lost, he isn't away - he is DEAD. We will celebrate moments in life, but never without the knowledge that a vital part of us is absent. So, it still matters 3 years and 3 months later, that we are not walking this difficult road alone. And it matters that YOU remind us we are not walking alone. And it matters that you share with us the many ways you have been touched by Matthew's life and death.


Keep in touch, it matters to us.

"Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends."- 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a

Joy amidst the Mourning

Have you ever noticed how life turns you around, spins you upside down, throws you up and then dumps you on the ground? And in those moments of concern, grief, and anxiety - you find yourself occasionally smiling, or laughing out loud, or possibly having a downright belly-aching, heartfelt guffaw! Makes me think of roller coasters!

Personally, I love roller coasters. Ones that take me higher in the air and faster than I would even dare to dream about going on my own. I like the feeling of not being in control, I like knowing I'm not alone on my wild ride, and I like knowing someone else is in control.

This is the way life has been for me - for us - our family. In the midst of celebrating Stephanie's wedding, we cried and remembered Matthew's absence in our celebrations. But we found ways for each of us to celebrate his presence in our hearts and in our lives, because he truly is with us everyday. Not a day goes by where we don't think about him and miss his smile or quiet presence. Yet, I am so grateful to have my memories of Matthew and to be able to celebrate the milestones and wonderful moments we are given in life today.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow!
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." - Jeremiah 29:11-13

God's Math is Different Than Ours

In today's economy we are continually hearing about people who are losing their jobs, their homes, their health insurance. Many people have become frightened to spend what they are earning on anything other than basic necessities. And many devoted Christians have fallen victim to the fear of not having enough ... enough money, enough food, enough shelter, enough ____, you fill in the blank. This fear has crippled many of us into closing our eyes and our hearts to the neediest among us. Charities are reporting lowered donations and an increased need for services. Churches are cutting programs and laying off staff members and many are only responding to their member needs instead of reaching out to the community.

In the book of Matthew, chapter 26, we read "The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me. When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial. I tell you the truth, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her." (verses 11-13). I can not help but think that Jesus was telling us that he would leave the poor among us SO WE could be His hands and feet. When we stop serving Jesus, we lose so much more than what could ever be gained through our own efforts. What do you think?

57 Cents

We never know what God will do with what he gives us....if we will just trust and give it back.
A sobbing little girl stood near a small church from which she had been turned away because it "was too crowded." "I can't go to Sunday School," she sobbed to the pastor as he walked by. Seeing her shabby, unkempt appearance, the pastor guessed the reason and, taking her by the hand he took her inside and found a place for her in the Sunday school class.
The child was so touched that she went to bed that night thinking of the children who have no place to worship Jesus. Some two years later, this child lay dead in one of the poor tenement buildings and the parents called for the kind-hearted pastor, who had befriended their daughter, to handle the final arrangements. As her poor little body was being moved, a worn and crumpled purse was found which seemed to have been rummaged from some trash dump.
Inside was found 57 cents and a note scribbled in childish handwriting, which read, "This is to help build the little church bigger so more children can go to Sunday School." For two years she had saved for this offering of love.
When the pastor tearfully read that note, he knew instantly what he would do. Carrying this note and the cracked, red pocketbook to the pulpit, he told the story of her unselfish love and devotion. He challenged his deacons to get busy and raise enough money for the larger building. But the story does not end there. A newspaper learned of the story and published it. It was read by a Realtor who offered them a parcel of land worth many thousands.
When told that the church could not pay so much, he offered it for 57 cents. Church members made large donations. Checks came from far and wide. Within five years the little girl's gift had increased to $250,000.00--a huge sum for that time (near the turn of the century).
Her unselfish love had paid large dividend. When you are in the city of Philadelphia, look up Temple Baptist Church, with a seating capacity of 3,300 and Temple University, where hundreds of students are trained. Have a look, too, at the Good Samaritan Hospital and at a Sunday school building which houses hundreds of Sunday Scholars, so that no child in the are will ever need to be left outside during Sunday school time.
In one of the rooms of this building may be seen the picture of the sweet face of the little girl whose 57 cents, so sacrificially saved, made such remarkable history. Alongside of it is a portrait of her kind pastor, Dr. Russell H. Conwell, author of the book, "Acres of Diamonds."

Sheep and Goats

Found this and well, just couldn't say it better myself.

"Inward or outward?
By Allen Ewing-Merrill

If you want to see me get all worked up, talk to me about how we in the church need to take care of ourselves before we can begin to look outward.

This happened recently at a monthly interfaith meeting that I facilitate. We were brainstorming about joint community outreach projects when one of my colleagues spoke up. I’m sure he had no idea he was about to push one of my buttons.

“You know, we have to take care of ourselves before we can begin to look to the needs of others,” he said. “We’re a very busy church with a lot going on. We’ve got to take care of our own needs first.”

Oh man. I wanted to jump across the table. My first thought: Does this guy read the same Gospels I read? Are we following the same Jesus?

I spoke up with more passion than substance, letting him know that I totally disagreed. I think it surprised him.

But isn’t this why so many of our churches are struggling—or on the edge of closing their doors—because we’ve lost our bearings, because we’ve become little more than social clubs focused on institutional maintenance?

Does anybody really believe that when we’ve taken care of all of our own needs, when the institution is finally running like a well-oiled machine, when we’ve focused inwardly long enough, that somehow we’ll then have the resources to begin caring for needs outside our church? Does anybody really believe this?

Before we moved to Portland, I served a church that had bounced back dramatically from a place of dismal decline. The church, once strong, had declined over the decades, not unlike other mainline Protestant churches across the U.S. Worship attendance was such that in the winter, they’d move out of the sanctuary into a small adjacent meeting room because they couldn’t afford to heat the big, beautiful sanctuary and they were also small enough that they could. Their focus was inward. Morale was low. They wondered how long they’d survive.

But then over the course of a decade or so, this congregation experienced dramatic change. Worship attendance began to grow from a low of about 40 to close to 300. The church came alive with children, youth and adults of all ages. A growing spiritual vitality produced diverse programs of mission and ministry that enlivened the church and impacted the community. This church had experienced revitalization—new life!

I remember hearing a pastor from another church trying to understand what had led to such dramatic change. One of the church’s leaders described it this way: “We used to be a church that looked inward. We were most concerned that the bills were paid, and when money was tight, we worked harder to balance the budget. All of our efforts went into trying to keep this church afloat.” (How many churches could describe themselves this way?)

“But then one day, a newcomer stood up during the sharing of joys and concerns, and through tears, she shared her struggle. She had a parent back in Brazil who was dying, and she was desperate to make it home to see this parent before it was too late. It was hard for her to ask, but she wondered if there was anyone who might be able to help her financially.”

Presented with a challenge, the church’s members began to understand that they could help a sister in need. The tearful concern of an immigrant in their midst grabbed their hearts and took precedent over a balanced church budget. They began to work together to meet the need of the newcomer and it became their rallying cry. When they were able to raise enough funds to send this person to Brazil, they realized God could use them for powerful things.

“Our focus changed, from inward to outward,” said the church leader, “and that made all the difference. Once we began looking outward, we never stopped.”

There were many factors that led to this church’s revitalization, but the point was clear: When the focus is outward, some of the inward things begin to take care of themselves.

The Rev. Ewing-Merrill and his wife, Sara, co-pastor Chestnut UMC and New Light community in Portland, Maine. This was excerpted from his blog at forwardonthejourney.blogspot.com.

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’ Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.” ~ Matthew 25:31-46

No More Ms. Nice

I’ve often wondered if Peter was really asking, “If someone sins against me, seriously, how many times must I forgive? Maybe Peter was thinking –“Okay, other rabbis have taught that three times is enough to forgive, but Jesus, well, he’s always pushing us to do more, to be more, maybe seven times will please him.” Maybe Peter thought this would be showing extreme forgiveness. I mean, after all, how many times could you forgive a person, the same person, for a sin against you, perhaps the same sin? And how great a sin must we forgive? I think that Peter wanted to put a legal limit on forgiveness. He wanted a number where he could finally say, "That’s it! I’ve had it! I’ve done everything I was supposed to do - No more Mr. Nice Guy for me!"

Haven’t we all felt that way at some point? We all carry old baggage where we keep our hurts hidden away. We all have grudges that we lug around, sacks full of hurt and piles of pain that we just can't let go of. We all have that burden which prevents us from fulfilling our God given destiny.

For many years I carried the burden of an unforgiving spirit after the murder of my brother. Those years were filled with pain, hate, rage and fear. God took all of that hurt and pain and gave it meaning. He helped me overcome my unforgiving spirit through prayer and His faithfulness until ten years later when I was able to forgive one of the young men imprisoned for my brother’s murder. God gave meaning to my ordeal by allowing me to bring His message of love to others who are crime victims and those who have been incarcerated for their acts of violence. Now, each day I try to remember the forgiveness I have been given as I think of forgiving others.

“Then Peter came and said to him, ‘Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?’ Jesus said to him, ‘Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.” ~ Matthew 18:21-22 (NRSV)

A matter of human dignity

http://www.umc-gbcs.org/atf/cf/%7B689fea4c-8849-4c05-a89e-c9bc7ffff64c%7D/FAITH%20LEADERS%20STATEMENT%20ON%20HEALTH.PDF

A MATTER OF HEALTH...A MATTER OF WHOLENESS

"Today health care reform has become an urgent priority, with many Americans
fearful about the health care they now hold and more than 45 million lacking
coverage altogether. Rising unemployment, underemployment and a decline in
employment benefits have deprived many more of health care. The health of our
neighbors and the wholeness of the nation now require that all segments of our
society join in finding a solution to this national challenge.

"...Learn to do good, seek justice; rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan,
plead for the widow." Isaiah 1:17
"...Love your neighbor as you love yourself." Matthew 22:39
"...Ye who believe! Stand up firmly for Allah, witness to justice...be just,
that is next to piety." Qur'an 5:8

Our diverse communities of faith -Jewish, Christian and Muslim- are each shaped and
guided by our respective sacred texts which compel us to speak out on behalf of the
most vulnerable members of our society. Today that means making comprehensive
and compassionate health care reform an urgent priority so that all of our neighbors,
especially the people living in poverty, children, and the aged, can be assured of the fullness of life that is central to the holy vision of a beloved and peaceable
community.

No longer can we afford to squander the hopes and dreams of the American people
through a much-too-costly system that contributes to economic despair. Families
and individuals must be able to rely on affordable care in times of illness or accident and preventative care to safeguard health and well-being. Those who are ill need the assurance that coverage will not be canceled by illness or employment
circumstance. They should also be afforded the dignity of selecting their own
caregivers.

Today we pray, each in our own custom, for discernment, boldness, clarity and
leadership in each segment of our society so that we may find the resolve to achieve
health reform worthy of this land. As we together pursue this vision our direction is
certain-it is toward the common good. The prospect of high-quality, affordable
health care for everyone is a measure of our wholeness as a nation.

We pray that our best minds and kindest hearts might be joined in this effort so that
all men, women and children will have the health care they need to live the lives for
which they were created. We stand ready to give our support and energies to its
achievement."

Small People, Great Rewards

It's been a little while since I posted, but found this story and wanted to share it with you. Be blessed and be a blessing!

Once upon a time, in a strange and lovely place where some people
go once they've been rid of everything flesh, an elderly woman
approached a young man hunched over a huge and rather grand book.

She noticed, first of all, that there was a timeless quality
about the man's beauty--for, though of the male persuasion, he
was, indeed, quite beautiful beyond anything she had seen before
or since. He also was ignoring her, and even when she approached
so close as to cast a shadow over his work (though in the
brilliance of where she was, shadows of any kind were not at all
allowed), the beautiful man remained intent on his work, his
long, artfully shaped nose just inches from the printed page.

"Hello?" She ventured timidly. "Hello. Uh, they sent me here."
Receiving no response, she tried again. "Is this the right
place?"

"That depends," the beautiful man said without bothering to look
up.

Gaining confidence, the woman explained, "They said, 'See the one
at the table--with the book. Malaki.' Are you Malaki?"

Without changing his stooped posture one little bit, the young
man glanced up at the woman and permitted a trace of a smile to
toy with the corners of his pursed lips. "In person," he declared
with every measure of importance at his disposal.

"I don't get it," the woman said, scratching her head through
what was left of her thinning hair. "Wasn't the last guy named
Malaki?" She screwed her face into the shape of a question mark
as she struggled to gain foothold in an understanding of this
strange and magical place.

"Oh, we're all named Malaki," Malaki said. "It's generic--like
pharaoh, or Kleenex."

His explanation brought her no closer to understanding, and deep
in the pit of her stomach the woman felt an old and dreaded
twinge of homesickness--that queasy sensation of being somewhere
she didn't belong, set adrift from a place she would rather be.
With a long and wearied sigh she said, "Look, I'm trying to find
somebody, and they told me you could help."

Malaki drew himself up to his full height--a height that towered
over the elderly woman. He inhaled deeply, as if filling his
lungs with every bit of importance his office bestowed on him. "I
am the Keeper of the Book of Life. In this book," he ran his
large hands lovingly over the cream-colored pages before him,
"are the names of every person who has given his heart and soul
to Jesus Christ." With that declaration, Malaki leaned forward,
his face close to the woman's, expecting her to be thoroughly and
breathtakingly impressed.

"Here's the thing," she began, dismissing his grandiloquence
with a shrug, "my husband died twenty years ago. He was a
disciple of Jesus, but not a very important one. Nobody ever knew
anything about him; he didn't make any of the written accounts.
So I don't know if he would even be in your book."

"Oh my," answered Malaki quickly, "in that case I can guarantee
he is in the book. But, ahem," he sniffed, "are you?"

"I did resist for a long time," she confessed. "But just before I
died, I believed in Jesus and gave Him my life."

"Just under the wire, huh?" Malaki smirked.

"Now I'm looking for my husband--for old time's sake--you know how
it is." She winked.

Malaki glanced back down at his work, embarrassed. "Well,
actually, I don't."

The woman leaned over the small, ornate desk. There was urgency
in her voice when she said, "Could you tell me where he is? His
name is James son of--"

Suddenly Malaki's countenance lit up, and for the first time a
broad grin spread across his face, making it even more beautiful
than before. "You don't mean the James? Son of Alphaeus? You're
kidding!"

"You mean you know him?"

"Know Him! Why, he's one of our leading citizens! Everybody
knows James son of Alphaeus."

The woman found this difficult to believe. Her husband had been a
good man, but thoroughly and irrefutably ordinary. There were
times on market day that she had struggled in vain to locate
James--only to be later informed that he had been right there in
front of her. Her good husband had been glaringly unremarkable.
Surely Malaki was thinking of someone else. "Wait a minute," she
said, "short guy, dark curly hair."

Nodding, Malaki said, "Sure. I even know which page he's on." He
quickly flipped backward through the book with his delicate
fingers, stopping on one of the first pages of the huge volume.
With an expansive gesture, Malaki pointed his long, slender index
finger to one entry near the top of the page.

The woman leaned over the table. "Five stars?" She gasped.

"Our highest rating," Malaki said, his face beaming with pride.

"But, he was just another guy. Very ordinary."

"Precisely!"

She was now utterly confused. "If that's the case, how do the
real biggies live up here? Guys like Moses, Peter, John."

Malaki shrugged. "Just about like everyone else."

"I can't figure this."

"Well, it's not really part of my job description," he sniffed,
"but I'll try to explain as best I can. There are no favorites in
heaven, you see. God loves all who take their residence here.
However, the Father does have a rewards system."

"Rewards?"

"No one can buy their way into heaven. But God's children are
apportioned talents and what they accomplish with those talents
in His name is remembered by the Father. He rewards the diligent
works of everyone belonging to Him."

"Then, as I said," the woman sputtered, "the apostle Peter must
have the finest accommodations."

"No, not necessarily." Malaki leaned back into the simple yet
elegant chair that sat behind his table. "Peter received so many
rewards while on earth: he was a respected leader; a writer,
whose teachings will live on till the very end of time. But the
Father has a soft spot in His heart for the servant who receives
no glory during his earthly life. He has a very special love for
those who keep plugging away even when no one notices their
labors." He looked at the elderly woman standing at the other
side of the table. "Tell me, what did James do while he was 'down
there'?"

"Oh," she sighed, "he was kind of forgotten. He always ended up
doing the jobs no one else would. Taking out the trash. Sweeping
the church floor. Visiting with the beggars."

"And he didn't receive much thanks for his work, did he?"

"Of course not!" The woman said with some anger as she recalled
the disappointing anonymity in which her husband served. "No one
paid him any mind. Nobody even knew anything about it."

"But he kept on, didn't he," Malaki said patiently. "He kept on
with it, never shirking from even the most menial task."

The woman shrugged, "Someone had to do it."

"So James didn't receive much glory while he was on earth?"

"Glory?" She sputtered. "They forgot he was even around!"

Malaki rose and leaned toward the distraught woman. With all of
his persuasive power he reassured her. "God didn't. He didn't
forget. And now James has been paid in full. He now has all the
glory that others received while they were on earth. The
difference is, their glory came from men. James' glory is from
the Father--in person."

Calming, the woman now realized that she was in a place
remarkably dissimilar to earth--a place where a different set of
rules and consequences were in place. Smiling, she said, "It
sounds as if my husband has finally made a name for himself."

"Oh, he made his name on earth. Now he is reaping the reward."

"But please," she said insistently, "tell me: Where is James?"

"Well now, it would be my pleasure to take you there myself," he
said, closing the book. "His palace isn't far. Besides, I'd like
to be there when he receives his finest reward."

"What's that?"

"Why, you, of course!" Malaki grinned and took her by the arm.
"Twenty years ago he didn't know if he'd ever see you again. And
now he will--for eternity."

And the two--one ancient and one newly young again--moved deeper
into the brilliance of a place where there is no time, no sorrow
or pain. A place where there is only a joyful convocation of
those gathered around the throne--a throne surrounded by the
blinding glitter of earth-earned crowns happily offered in praise
to the One who never forgets the work of His beloved.

"What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul? For the Son of Man is going to come in his Father's glory with his angels, and then he will reward each person according to what he has done." - Matthew 16:26-27