21

We celebrated Heather's 21st Birthday today.

21.

Wow. Where did that time go?

I know we spent an awful lot of it together...as a youngster we used to dance around the house together (we had a lot less furniture then!) As a youth we watched TV shows and fell in love with characters and places. As a 'tween, we investigated medical miracles as we welcomed a new little sister to the household. As a teen, we laid around on the couch and read books to each other. Remember Lord of the Rings? We tackled it in all it's wonder and uniqueness one hot summer. We learned to drive together - me as a refresher course, and she out of sheer necessity and obedience. We tackled new hair styles, the new world of makeup, the trials of fashion, and the silence that only really stubborn girls can give their mom's. We tackled cooking (cookies being our specialty), cleaning (she's a great organizer of other people's belongings), and even did a few years homeschooling. We played puppies - er, she played, I let her bark. We tried sewing - not her gift. We tried gardening - she grew lovely strawberries! And, from a very young age, she learned how to take care of a mom with a lot of medical difficulties, and did it with great wisdom, compassion, and forgiveness.

Tomorrow, she turns 21. Today, we went to Shakespeare's Tea Shoppe for high tea. As a surprise which, by-the-way, she guessed before we even arrived. She's like her dad that way. A quick study. Anyway, Dad and I wanted a sweet way to celebrate her life, her passions, and her future. High Tea seemed just the thing. It was a reminder of something she loved as a small child (tea parties) and something she truly experienced as an adult in York. It was a smashing success, but for the simple thing of forgetting the camera. ugh! What a lovely time we all had, as she shared reminiscences of Bible college, showed us the proper way to order and drink tea, and described everything we were sampling. She's really turned into a fabulous young woman, with a style all her own, and someone I really feel privileged to call friend.

Tonight, grandma took us all out to dinner to celebrate. I must confess, Heather has always been "her girl," ever since she babysat for us one week when Heather was about 4 months old. It's a match made in heaven. It was so sweet to see the two of them sharing some quiet time and special glances reserved for the two of them.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY Heather, my special treasure! May this be a year full of joy, growth, and blessing.

Ready Enough

I've been thinking about the last month...lots to consider there, really. I had some really good lessons on the word "grace." That topic could be considered a lifetime study - but, I've spoken (or written, as it were) a touch on that one already.

Grace, in all it's concepts and realities, was the greatest gift of understanding I've had in quite some time.

Then, there was taking care of Dusty. I've had the privilege of carting him to and fro to multitudes of doctor's appointments...some necessary, some not. Some were of the "let's check you out and see what we can do to make things better" variety. Some were of his own making, because he needed some special attention and doctors seem to be his instrument of choice. It was a privilege, really, because he is a proud man and very independent. The fact that he allowed me to help, and even welcomed it, was a statement of great trust and acceptance. I must admit, it was really lovely to have him all to myself, and steer the conversation to topics that I enjoyed and he seemed to want to comment on. All in preparation for: the last month. I have loved the progession: grace, then a use for the gifts of the Holy Spirit which I had begun to doubt I even posessed.

Then, there was the new puppy. Micah. I've written of him a bit lately, too. He's a beast. It's just the perfect nickname for a "little man" that thinks he's big, but just can't seem to reach those places the big dog gets too. Yet. I know Chuck thought I was crazy wanting another dog - puppy - but I must say that in the long run, God's hand was in it and he has proven to be a big blessing. He was a great source of comfort after long days at the hospital: something warm, silly, and soft to remind us of God's intimate care for us in every situation.

Now, you know, Dusty passed away not too long ago. I've had soo many people asking this same question: "Were you ready for him to die?" Such an interesting question. I don't think you can ever really answer that question with a resounding YES! I can say that we had time to prepare, time to prepare him, and time to let go. In the long run, I can truly say that God doesn't ask you if you're ready...when He calls, you go. HE must have felt we were ready enough. He had done the preparing: Dusty walked with God. I even had the opportunity to pray the "sinner's prayer" again, just because he wanted that blessed assurance. God had prepared our family as we all began to grieve with a smile on our faces as Dusty said his good-byes. Whether we wanted him to go or not really wasn't the question. God decided we were ready enough, and enough was what He has given us to get through it all. Enough grace. Enough love. Enough attention span. Enough energy. Just enough, which is all you really need.

What I found the most interesting after he passed away was this: People not asking questions....just saying what they think you want to hear, and moving along. No one has asked about his last days. No one has asked if he said anything special. No one has really looked me in the eye and asked if there was anything I wanted to share or talk about. Isn't that funny? I tell you, I have learned an awful lot about what to do when someone goes through this experience.

Rule #1: give them all the time and space they need to get through it.

Rule #2: ask, then listen for the answer.

We all need to be heard...even if it's hard on the hearer. As the hearer, we aren't sure what to ask, or what to say. I can now say with all assurance: ASK. Part of grieving is sharing the bitter, and the sweet. And sweet it can be when someone goes home to be with the Lord. Sweetness is the sunrise as your loved one draws his last breath. Sweetness is the smile that crosses your face as the sunrise turns golden, and you know they are now walking the streets of gold with Jesus. Sweetness is knowing you spent your last hours meeting other's needs, and it wasn't in your own strength or might or thoughts. Sweetness in the peace you can't explain, but you just feel it around you like a warm, cozy blanket as you leave the hospital room for the last time.

Ready enough? Yes. God made sure, because His time is always perfect, and it is He who calls us home.