Making Space to Stay Connected

 If you've been in the church for any length of time, you've probably heard the message that we weren't made to go through life alone. And my reading of Scripture makes it pretty clear that Christianity was meant to be lived in community.

But, this is so opposite to what we hear in society. We live in a world that tells us we should be able to do it all on our own. We're told that we should be able to get it done without someone else.

This means we have to be really intentional about staying connected to the people around us. It's not going to happen by accident.

But, how do we make this a priority when we all have such busy lives?

How do we manage the expectations & needs of each other while still honouring our capacities & family needs?

We have to start by having the conversation with each other. We have to be honest about our needs, desires, & capacities. The we can work out what it will look like to stay connected to each other well.

When we do this, it results in a good thing for everyone involved.

Who Do You Celebrate WIth?

 Who do you celebrate with?

I'm not talking about a major holiday like Christmas or Thanksgiving. Or about who you would invite to a birthday party.

Who do you celebrate the everyday moments where something needs to be celebrated with?

The completion of a major project.

The good news after a health scare.

The fact that you followed through on something you were nervous or scared about.

Who do you celebrate these moments with?

The celebration may not be something big here. They often aren't, and they happen unplanned.

My guess is that the people you celebrate these times with are those you live with - your spouse, your kids, maybe your parents. These are often the easiest people to celebrate with because it doesn't require any planning. It's easier for it to be spur of the moment.

But, there is a segment of our population who are left out when this is seen as the way to celebrate these moments. For those of us who are singles and live alone, there's no one to celebrate with at home. We need friends & family to be available to celebrate those moments with us.

To change that requires intentionality. As singles we need to be willing to call or text friends & share. And we need those friends & family to take the time. It may be only a few minutes that you have, but it matters. And for the bigger things to celebrate, taking time to plan something more matters.

It really comes down to communication being the key. If we're not expressing what's important to us to celebrate, we can't expect people to know that it matters to us.

Walking with Each Other Through the Hard Times

 Who do you turn to when your world is turned upside-down? Who do you phone? Who sits with you in it?

Do you have anyone?

I've been quiet here for a while because I haven't known what to write. I've been walking through a time of my world being turned upside-down. That has made it hard to find the words for anything.

It's made me think more about the questions I asked at the start of this post.

For me, in this situation, I had family and friends I could reach out to right away for support. My Mom, my sister, & my niece showed up while I was still on the phone with them. And friends were there in words as they replied to a text message because I wasn't sure I was up for explaining to them any other way at that time. Even beyond this, people in my church family have been there since.

This is a picture of what it should look like. We weren't made to live this life alone. We were made to live it in community with people. We need people we can call on when our world is turned upside-down. People who will show up - either physically or through words - and just be with you.

The truth of my situation is that my family and friends can't fix it - though my niece would like to try. I didn't need their advice or solutions at first. I just needed them to remind me I wasn't alone. Even now, their presence & care are most important. Many have just listened & asked the questions to help me see things I wasn't seeing on my own. It's not a solution I need; it's people to walk through the uncertainty with.

This is what we all need. So, I leave you with the questions I started with.

Who do you turn to when your world is turned upside-down? Who do you phone? Who sits with you in it & lets you know you're not alone?

Please Respect my Personal Space

 Everyone you meet has a different set of personal space boundaries and they're important. They often exist for a reason. It can be hard to know the nuances of what someone's personal space looks like - especially because they may change depending on who the person is with at the moment.

I've written before about how we need physical contact with safe people regularly to do well in life. But, how much and with who is a very personal matter. And we have to learn to allow space for it to be different.

When it comes to this, I think there are a few things we do often in church in trying to be welcoming, that actually make people feel uncomfortable instead.

The first is the need to touch someone when you're talking to them. Whether it's an extra long handshake or a hand on their shoulder, I've experienced it and seen it often. There may be times when this is appropriate or desired, but it can also easily serve to make the recipient feel uncomfortable. For a conversation in the lobby at church, this is probably not necessary most of the time. When praying for someone a hand on their shoulder could be a good thing, but, even then, we should be asking first.

Secondly, I'd like to talk about the sometimes uninvited hugs. Being a "hugger" isn't an excuse to make some feel uncomfortable or unsafe. We need to be aware of other people's comfort with hugs and not force it on them.

Finally, the biggest thing is to not assume because someone was okay with it with one person, they automatically will be with you too. The level of relationship with a person can often have an impact on what someone is comfortable with. You may have just seen hug a family member or a close friend, so don't assume they'll hug you too if you don't fall into that category.

The biggest thing we can to do to help everyone feel comfortable is to respect someone's wishes. If they move away from you or prevent contact in some way, don't keep trying. If they ask you to stop, then stop. If they acknowledge you, but don't extend their hand in response to your offer of a handshake, don't keep following them around or put your hand on their shoulder.

One more thing I've seen, that probably bothers me more than any of the above. A kid should never have their personal space invaded or have your hand on them without their permission. We live in a world where teaching a kid that their body is theirs and no one gets to get too close to them without their permission is vital for their safety. We should be enforcing this at church, not disrespecting it.

I have stepped between my niece and people who were ignoring her discomfort. I will always do that for her with no questions asked, but I shouldn't have to at church. And for the record, she is always able to get right into my personal space without hesitation if she needs me. That doesn't apply to everyone else.

Creating a Community that Includes All

 As we begin a new year of Bible studies, small groups, classes, and other plans in our churches, I've been thinking a lot about how we create a community where everyone feels welcome and included. Where marital status and life circumstances don't define the only places where you belong and where you don't.

I'm not saying we shouldn't have singles' groups, divorce groups, men's & women's groups, marriage groups at all. Those are important and have a place.

But they can't be all we offer.

We need more where all the people who are part of these different groups are also living life together.

We like to talk about being the family of God, but sometimes I think we forget what that means.

If you look at an extended family, it typically includes a variety of people. Some married, some single, some kids, some without kids. But, that doesn't stop the people in that family from coming together.

If we are the family of God, then we should have all different people - of varying ages, genders, and marital statuses - mingling together. Leaning how to live life together. Learning from each other and with each other.

But, we don't always do this well. Obviously, we're naturally drawn to people whose lives look similar to ours. When lives look similar, we have easy things to connect on. It can come much easier than connecting with someone whose life looks different.

When we only connect with the people it's easy to connect with, we miss out on a richness of friendships that comes if we go beyond the obvious connections with people. We have to choose to take the time and make the space to build relationships that take work. This is the opposite of our instant society, but it's worth it.

So, all of our ministries cannot be segregated by marital status, or age, or gender. We can help these rich relationships form and make everyone feel welcome by not always labelling our small groups or activities with a marital status, gender, or age. And those who lead need to welcome and include all who come through the door.

It's that simple and that hard all at the same time.

The One Sunday of the Year I'm Very Tempted to Just Skip Church

 It's not very often that I'm tempted to skip church. But, there is one weekend where it becomes a serious consideration.

What Sunday is that?

Mother's Day.

And not because I have anything against the day. 

Or because I don't have a good relationship with my own mother. We have our disagreements, but, for the most part, we have a good relationship.

So, why is it a weekend I'm tempted to skip church?

Because of how Mother's Day has been handled so often in the past. Always, with really good intentions of celebrating and affirming the mothers in church that morning.

But, also, often hard for many. For those who don't have children of their own, because they've never had the chance. For those who don't have children, because they haven't been able to. For those who have lost a child. For those who didn't or don't have a good relationship with their mothers. For those who recently lost their mother.

In the process of honouring mothers on this day, there have been many times that I have been the only woman in the part of the church sanctuary I was sitting in who was still seated when they asked all the mothers in the service to stand. Or the times, a hand offering the gift that morning to the mothers there has been pulled back from me when they realize who I am.

All of those moments, painful reminders that my life doesn't look like I thought it would. That I don't have a part of my life that I thought I would by now.

And, so I'm tempted to skip church on Mother's Day. Not just choose to join online instead, but completely skip it.

So, what do we do?

I won't say we shouldn't acknowledge the mothers at church. But, we need to be creative in doing so in a way that doesn't so obviously identify who does not have children. 

Christmas Memories

 I've had memories of Christmas' growing up running through my mind for the last few weeks. 

Memories of laughter and fun. 

Memories of family together.

Memories of a crowded table - everyone has to keep their elbows in so we don't knock the food off each other's forks.

Memories of too much food and my Grandma always offering more.

Memories of singing carols together with my Grandma at the piano.

Memories of my sisters, my cousins and I are huddled around the nativity set, each taking our turn to place the figurines of the set in place as Grandma read the Christmas story aloud.

Memories of puzzles started and completed.

Memories of gifts that reminded us how loved and care about we were.

Memories of welcoming in many who had nowhere else to go for Christmas.

This Christmas is the second one since my Grandma passed away. Although there were Christmas' before she passed that she wasn't able to be there, it's different now to know she's not just down the road waiting for a visit.

It's still a little bittersweet to think about Christmas this year. For so many years my Grandma, her house, her cooking, her plan for the family for the day was the center of all that happened. Even when she no longer hosted, she still had influence on the day.

But, the part that I keep coming back to is how she made sure that we never forgot what it was really about in the midst of the food and the presents. She was never afraid to tell us grandkids that we had to wait to open presents until we'd read the Christmas story together.

She'd read the Scripture about Jesus' birth and you could hear in her voice how much it meant to her. That to her this was the most important part of everything about that day. 

I'm challenged that I need to remember the reason why we do this all. The thing that is the most important about this day.

So, today, can I encourage you to take the time to stop and read and remember that in the midst of all this time of year brings, the most important thing is that we're celebrating the promised and long-awaited Messiah coming to earth?

We celebrate because Jesus coming to earth as a baby changed everything.

Light in the darkness.

Peace in the chaos.

Comfort in the brokenness.

The Power of Showing Up & Being Present

 This past Sunday at church, we took some time to remember those in our church family who we had lost over the last few years of COVID. Something as simple as a picture, a name, a birthdate, and the date someone took their last breath on earth, had an impact on me in that moment. As I watched the pictures of my great uncle and then my Grandma appear on the screen, along with so many others I've known as part of my church family for years, I was reminded of another lesson my Grandma taught me over the years. 

As I've thought about it since, I've come to realize it might be the mort important thing, after following God, that my Grandma taught me. It's something that has come up over and over again in memories of her. And from so many different people.

That lesson: the power of showing up and being present.

When I think about it, growing up, one of the things I could always count on was that if something was happening - good or bad - my Grandma would be one who showed up. She was just there all the time. Whether it was sitting in the audience at more band concerts, school awards ceremonies, & school sports games than she probably ever thought she'd sit through. Or being the one to pick us up when we weren't feeling well at school and Mom was busy. Or the hours spent with us at her house through all seasons. Or when something went wrong or was hard and you just needed a hug (. . . & a cookie).

There was something you could count on . . . Grandma was there. She showed - usually with Grandpa at her side.

But, more than her showing up, she was present in those moments. Even when you knew she had other things she could be doing, she was present in her conversations with you. She was present in the moment and whatever was happening.

And, in doing so, she made sure you knew she thought you were important and valuable. That you were worth her time and energy.

One particular night stands out for me when I think about how she did this. It was a Friday night not too long after I moved home after finishing my degree. I was not looking forward to another evening alone. My Grandma happened to phone my Mom that afternoon & I answered. As usual, she talked to me first, & when I said I had no plans, her first thought was to invite me to come over for supper that night. A little thing in so many ways. But, it reminded me that she cared.

It challenges me in my own interactions with people. 

How do I do at showing up for the people I love? How do I do at being present with the people I'm with?

These days, it's easy to be distracted, even when we're in the same room as people. We carry around distracting devices that keep us from being present - even if we leave the phone away, when the phone calls, texts, & emails come through to you watch, the distraction is still there. I know I'm good at being distracted.

But, it's not how I want to be. I want to be someone who shows up & is present with the people in front of me.

How about you? How are you doing at showing up? How are you doing at being present?

One Year

 If you've read my blog for any amount of time, you'll know that from time to time I share poetry I've written. Often it's about things I'm walking through. In the last few years, a number of them have been to do with things with my Grandma. 

A few days ago - on July 21, 2022 - it was the one year anniversary since my Grandma went to be with Jesus. As I reflected on that, another poem came that fits with previous ones.

(You can read previous parts here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5)

I see you there

Smiling in the picture

The last family gathering

You were there for

 

Your face full of joy

As we gathered around

A time to celebrate

You and Grandpa together

 

We laughed and we talked

We sang grace and we ate

We watched the little ones play

We celebrated faithful love

 

Now we gathered without you

A time to remember

The life that you lived

The way that you loved

 

Though you are gone now

You live on in us

Your words and your wisdom

Still influence us

 

You’ve been gone a year

It doesn’t feel right

Sometimes I’m still waiting

To hug you and hear you

 

I’m grateful I had you

To call you my Grandma

I’m grateful you cared

To always be there

 

Grandma, I miss you

Time hasn’t changed that

Your smile and your laugh

The deep love you shared

We Can't Do It Alone

 You can do it alone. 

You don't need anyone else. 

You everything you need to do what you want.

We hear things like this all the time. And mostly we believe them.

But, what if I told you these were lies?

The truth is:

We need each other. We can't do it alone.

I've written quite a bit about community and our need for people to walk through the good and the hard of life with. I keep coming back to it because it's so important and it goes against everything society tells us.

I think it's an even more important topic of discussion now. After the last couple of years where we were told to stay apart, we've become even better at trying to do it all on our own. We've drawn lines around ourselves in the things we believe and if someone doesn't completely agree with us, we push them away.

But, we're in a worse place because of it. We're paying a huge price because of it.

God created us to need each other as we walk through life. We don't have what we need for everything all on our own. Sometimes we need someone to be strong for us and carry us through. Sometimes we need to be strong for someone and carry them through. Sometimes no one will be strong and we just to know we have someone else who knows the struggle to stumble through it all with.

I was reminded of how important being together and how healing it is a week and a half ago. We were finally able to gather and have a Celebration of Life for my Grandma, after almost 11 months of waiting. As the family and close friends began to arrive, there were two thoughts in my head. The first was how good it was to see everyone and be together. The second was how something that used to feel so normal now felt strange. After a couple years of not being able to be together, it felt strange.

As we remembered, shared, talked, cried, and laughed together, something that happened that hadn't yet. Although we'd all said our goodbyes to my Grandma in some way over the last 11 months, there was something about saying goodbye together that we needed.

As I looked at the tables full of family, I knew this was a group that has laughed and enjoyed time together. But, also strongly disagreed and fought with each other over the years. That's what community is though, and you choose to stay together anyways. You love each other and show up for each other. You fight and you disagree with each other and you still show up for each other and love each other.

This is how we were created to live life. And we need to learn how to do it better again. It will take work. It will take intentionality.

But, we don't have a choice if we're going to live the lives God created us to live.

Memories of my Grandma

 Today - almost 11 months after she passed away - we had the Celebration of Life for my Grandma. It was so good to be together after so long of not being able to do. And I didn't realize how necessary this step was in the journey of saying good-bye.

I was asked to share, alongside a couple of my cousins, memories of Grandma. As I wrote, I figured it would be easier to share the memories now since so much time had passed, but as I started, I realized that the memories still touched me more than I thought they would. 

Here is what I shared, or at least intended to share today - I'm not sure that I actually was able to read everything that was written when I got to that moment.

"There's not a day goes by that I don't see you;

You live on in all the better parts of me."

Those are a couple of lines from the song "Scars in Heaven" by Casting Crowns. I listened to that song a lot in the months after Grandma passed away. And as I sat down to write the memories about Grandma I wanted to share, those words came to mind again. Over the last 11 months, I've had many times when the words of wisdom, encouragement, and love Grandma shared with me over the years have continued to have an influence on my life.

As I talked to my sisters about our memories of Grandma, one of the first things that came up for us was our memories of sick days at Grandma's. If we woke up sick one morning, or got sick at school, we always hoped Mom was busy, because it means we got to go to Grandma's for the day. Even when we were sick, Grandma's house was always more fund than being at home. A sick day at Grandma's usually meant sitting in their ricking chars, eating cookies, and watching TV together.

A lot of our memories of Grandma are around their house on Green Bay. Summers at the beach, holiday family gatherings, and any other reason we found to get together.

Helping make "Grandma buns" - as we called them. Nothing tasted better that Grandma buns with homemade strawberry freezer jam.

Making roll kuchen and eating it watermelon outside. The important question was always the ratio of watermelon slices to roll kuchen we were allowed. It usually felt like too much watermelon, but Grandma would hold firm on the number.

Another memory is singing together with Grandma. More often than not, Grandma would start us off singing The Doxology for grace when we gathered for a holiday meal or special occasions. And Christmas gatherings always included singing some carols while Grandma played the piano.

For me, another memory of Grandma is the many hours spent on the golf course with Grandma, and Grandpa too. Depending on who was picking you up, changed what time you actually had to be ready to go. If Grandma and Grandpa were both coming, they'd be on time for what they told you; if it was just Grandpa, you needed to be ready early; if it was just Grandma, you had an extra 5-10 minutes to get ready. But, my favourite part of that wasn't the golfing; it was the conversations that happened while we golfed. Grandma always shares wisdom and encouragement and pointed me to God in those hours together.

When I went away to Briercrest for school, Grandma made it worthwhile to get a mailbox of my own in town. At least every couple of weeks, sometimes more often, I would find an envelope with Grandma's familiar handwriting on it. It would be filled with stories of what was going on in her life and Grandpa's - a connection to home that I was grateful for. I was really bad at writing back, and even worse at phoning, but the letters from Grandma kept coming as long as I was away.

Grandma always liked to have fun. Even though she always looked put together and proper when we were out, she was always up for having fun. That was something that stayed, even as her mobility was slowly stolen by Parkinson's disease. One of my favourite memories of that includes my niece. Grandma and Grandpa were at my parent's house for a meal. While we were waiting for the food to be ready, Grandma was playing with my niece. They were laughing and enjoying being together, while, much to my Mom's chagrin, they tossed a decorative whicker ball my Mom had in the living room back and forth. Grandma using a paper plate to catch and throw it. 

As I talked to my sisters about our memories of Grandma, the theme that kept coming up in all of them was that she was there. We could count on that. Whether we were sick as kids and Mom was busy, or we had something special happening, or we just needed somewhere to go on a Friday night, Grandma was there and she was always praying for us.

It May be Late, But it's Still Important

 It's been 10 - 1/2 months since my Grandma passed away. As I write this, we're close to having a Celebration of Life for her. The time has come when we can do this finally - after months of not being able to have it.

It started with a conversation about whether we should still do it. Had it been too long? Do we need to? Would people still come? Or had everyone moved past that?

In the end, we decided it was still important and something we should go. After 10 - 1/2 months of saying good-bye, mostly alone or with our closest family members, it's time to gather as those who loved my Grandma - family and friends - to say good-bye together. To remember my Grandma for who she was and how she touched our lives.

While the planning and preparation has brought the sadness and pain over losing her to the surface again, I feel like it's also made me realize how important those things are. God created us to walk through everything in life together and we had missed this part of the journey so far.

It's made me reflect on how many things like this we've missed over the last couple years. And how much we need to make time for them now. Not just the good-byes, the funerals, we've missed. But, also the milestone celebrations, the weddings, the parties. They're important and we need to acknowledge them.

So many things feel incomplete, or missing. All that has gone in our world in the last couple years, has left us with so much missed. And we need to make the space for these things... even if it feels like it's a bit late compared to when we normally would.

As I've been preparing what I will share about my Grandma, about memories of her, I've found it to be another step on the grief journey. A journey I thought would be much shorter than it actually is. And, honestly, I'm looking forward to gathering with family and friends of my grandparents, many I've known for much of my life. A chance to remember someone deeply loved and missed by many.

So, my question to you today . . . what have you missed in the last couple of years that you need to plan for now?

The Hardest Sunday to go to Church

 Some dates on the calendar are difficult ones for all of us for a variety of reasons.

As I flipped my calendar to the month of May yesterday, I realized we were fast approaching what I would call the hardest Sunday of the entire year for me, and many others, to go to church.

What is that Sunday?

It's Mother's Day.

When I tell people that, some have a list of reasons why I might not want to go to church this particular Sunday. But, many others have no idea why.

Let me tell you why . . .

Most Sundays I go to church and I sit surrounded by couple and families. Some Sundays, I feel acutely out of place as a single person with no kids of my own. Other Sundays I hardly notice that.

But, on Mother's Day . . . that feeling of being out of place is amplified. 

I can't tell you the number of Mother's Day Sundays I've sat in church where mothers are celebrated - applauded as they're asked to stand, given gifts as they leave the service - & I've wrestled with how it makes me feel. The way I feel ignored again.

I know that there's nothing malicious about it. There's no plan of making me, and others like me, feel ignored. I see the desire to honour mothers for the very important role they play, for all they do. And I know it's needed. I watch my sister as a single mom and I don't think she gets enough recognition for all she does.

But, I do wonder if there's a way to honour mothers without making it incredibly obvious who doesn't have kids. I wonder if there's a way to celebrate and acknowledge the role of mothers in our lives that doesn't leave some feeling like they're ignored, or unvalued.

Maybe, as we return to what feels more like normal after a couple years of not being able to do this, we can change the way we do things?

Maybe, we can look for ways to give gifts that don't mean people are basically asking if you're a mom as you leave the service. (Yes, I've had this happen. It was one of the worst feelings in my life.)

Maybe, we can celebrate the way even those of us who aren't moms still play a role in the lives of kids and others in our lives alongside mothers - at least in the public parts of what we do.

Dear Grandma

 As I walk through a year of firsts without my Grandma around, there are times and things that I reflect on. Tonight as I sit I'm reflecting on Easter and memories around it. Choosing to remember the good.

This post is the form of a letter to my Grandma.

Dear Grandma,

Today was Easter Sunday. I thought of you a lot today. The first Easter Sunday without you . . . except it had already been a few years since you were able to be at church or our family gathering. Not just because of COVID, the last few years, but even before that. Son, in some ways it was the first resurrection Sunday without you, and in other ways it wasn't. But, no matter what, I thought of you a lot today.

As we sang songs pointing to the resurrection and about eternity with Jesus, I pictured you today. Standing in Jesus' presence today. No more body or mind failing you. In the presence of your Savior forevermore. I could almost hear your voice singing praises to God, as I know you always loved to do here. 

In the midst of all the things we do on holidays, you always made sure we were reminded of the real reason why we gathered to celebrate. You always made sure we didn't forget. You pointed us to Jesus. On Easter Sunday, you pointed us to the empty tomb and our risen Savior.

As my Mom & I made the potatoes and got the ham ready, my mind was filled with memories of you in your kitchen. Always busy getting something ready, making sure nothing was missed for dinner. Even in your busy-ness of making sure it was all ready on time, you welcomed us grandkids into your kitchen to help. As we got older, I'm sure we actually helped, but sometimes I wonder if in those early years, we made more work for you by helping. Yet, you didn't turn us away when we wanted to help - you found something we could do.

As we sat at the table to eat together, I missed the large family gatherings at your house. This one was smaller . . . just 7 of us this day. It's been that way for a while. You were unable to come already by the time the thing happened that shrunk our family gatherings so much. I know that family was so important to you. As much as having us all in your house all day wore you out, I also remember the smile on your face when we all squeezed together to fit around the table. 

(And I remember how anyone in your reach had to watch their plate carefully. You never knew when you would decide someone hadn't eaten enough and would add more food to their plate when they weren't looking.)

Even, as I served my food today. I dutifully took at least one scoop of everything on the table. The "no thank you" helping (you always had to take one scoop of every dish on the table, no matter what, even if you didn't like it or didn't think you would) that was the rule at your house while I was growing up, still directs me when I'm serving food. I wasn't a fan of that rule as a kid, but it has served me well as an adult.

As we put the paska (Mennonite Easter bread), on the table after dinner, I noticed that no one had gotten the sprinkles out yet. I had to go and find them before we could eat it. I remembered how you always made sure there was an abundance of them on the paska before you served it. I never understood why, and I really still don't, but paska was always served with icing and sprinkles (yes, on bread . . . a sweet bread, but bread). And I will always eat it that way.

Today, I missed you. I missed your smile, your laugh, your hugs. I missed hearing you sing with joy as you celebrated our risen Savior. 

But, I know you were celebrating in a way I can only imagine right now. A way you weren't able to for so many years at the end. And that brings me joy in the midst of tears because you're not here with us anymore.

Love you always, 

Tamara

Lessons in Looking Back

 I posted the following as my Facebook status last week:

"Sometimes just knowing there's a name for what you're living with is a relief... even if it changes nothing, yet (before you ask, it's nothing serious going on, don't worry)"

While I'm not going to share in this space what exactly this is (at least not yet), there have been things related to it that I've been thinking about in the days since. And I wonder if some of those things are lessons that all of us could learn from.

When we have the perspective of looking back, as I have in this case, it can be easy to see some things as obvious that were missed at the time. We have a choice then, about how we respond. 

We can choose to get mad or frustrated or upset by the realization.

Or, we can acknowledge that our perspective is different now and we're seeing differently because we're not in the middle of it anymore.

Some of my favourite books on my shelf right now are the mismatched set of commentaries, my Grandma gave me when she could no longer read herself. I had no idea the treasure trove of lessons from my Grandma I was receiving alongside them. They just sat on my bookshelf for a while. Until the day I decided to pick one of them up. When I opened it, I discovered it was full of my Grandma's underlines of things that spoke to her and pieces of paper with her responses to what she read there.

One of the things I noticed over and over in what I read both in the commentary and in her notes, was her realization and desire not to live stuck in the past. To her it was very clear in Scripture that Jesus had come and died on a cross and rose again to free us from our past, so we can begin to live the lives God intends for us. 

She would regularly remind me of this in our conversations on the golf course. Every time I would start talking about something in the past, she would ask me the same things:

Are there people in this situation you need to make things right with? Don't wait to do that.

Are there things you need to confess and repent of? Don't wait to do that.

Are there lessons you can learn from this? What are they?

Once you've done these things, does it do you any good to keep living in regret or anger over what has happened? 

Then she would remind me that it was time let it go. That it was time to leave it with God and walk forward into what was coming next.

She would share about how she didn't always do this well. She wasn't telling me to do this because she thought it was easy. She knew it was challenging, but she also knew it was worth it.

I've been thinking a lot about this lesson since I shared the words I did on Facebook last week. In my case, this is something where I could look back and live in regret or anger, but it really does no good at this point. That just keeps me stuck in the past and not getting on with living the life God has for me now.

I think is something that applies to so much of our lives. And I'm grateful for the regular reminders from my Grandma while I was growing up.

Those Left Behind

 Alongside the original poem I wrote processing the changes with my Grandma, there were also changes for my Grandpa. I wrote the first part of the poem a number of years ago, while the second part is new today.

I see you there

Saying good-bye

The love of your life

No longer here

 

You try to be strong

To stand on your own

To keep it together

Your pain not exposed

 

Stand at her final place

Saying good-bye

We all stand together

To laugh and to cry

 

Disease stole her body

And then stole her mind

Yet you held on

Loving her deeply

 

Time still moves on

Though loss seems too great

The hole that she left us

Can never be filled

 

But in this we hope

She’s now with our Savior

Who loves her the most

Fully healed and restored

Holidays and Loss

As Christmas approaches, I've been reflecting again on what it looks like when you're dealing with the loss of loved ones. It's the first Christmas that my Grandma won't be here, and while she wasn't able to be at the family gatherings for most of the last few years, she was still a part of things.

Over the last while, I've written a few poems that were part of my processing. When I wrote the last one in July, I thought that would be the end of it. But, as Christmas approaches, there was another one that I'm sharing now.

(You can find previous ones here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)

Here's the one from today

Christmas approaching

Yet something feels off

Grandma, you’re missing

It doesn’t feel right

 

Decorations and nativity set

The detailed Christmas village

They remind me of you

The joy and the laughter

 

Sometimes I’m okay

And sometimes I’m not

Sometimes I’m laughing

The next time I’m crying

 

Grief is so messy

A hole in my heart

The place that you filled

A place for no other

 

Each time that I miss you

I hear all you shared

The wisdom you offered

How you pointed the way

 

I look at your picture

And see how you smile

It shows how you loved us

How you embraced life

 

Grandma, I miss you

This world just feels wrong

Without you down here

I miss you, I miss you

 

Christmas is coming

The first time without you

I want to pretend that it’s all okay

But I know that it’s not

 

I miss you so deeply

I’ll always remember

Your role in my life

The love that you shared

 

You pointed to Jesus

In all that you lived

You prayed and you loved

Just the way that you lived

 

I see your picture

I choose to let go

Trusting our Savior

Who loves us the most

Saying Good-Bye

 This is the final part of some poems that I wrote as I have been processing things with my Grandma.

You can find previous parts here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

It’s different down here

Without you to see

No one I call Grandma

To hug anymore

 

Something feels missing

Without you here

A hole left behind

That only you filled

 

I miss you already

Just being with you

Sitting beside you

Feeling your hugs

 

But I picture you there

Fully healed and restored

In the arms of our Savior

At peace evermore

 

The world feels so different

Without your bright light

Shining for Jesus

In all that you do

 

While words couldn’t express it

Right up to the end

A peace sat around you

As I entered your room

 

You knew of your Savior

You knew what would come

You trusted Him deeply

And pointed the way

 

A woman of prayer

Your legacy left

A love for our Savior

Marked all that you did

 

Good-bye my dear Grandma

I’ll never forget

The words of your wisdom

The love that you showed

 

I know that I’m different

Because you took time

To point me to Jesus

In all that you said

In the Struggle

 I've shared a couple of poems that I wrote in processing things with my Grandma. One back in 2018 and one just a few days ago. Things didn't feel complete yet, but I wasn't sure if I was going to share the rest of them. Today, I'm choosing to share the next part.

I see you there

Fighting to stay here

You keep holding on

To life on this earth

 

I see you there

Struggling to stay here

It’s time to let go

It’s time to go home

 

We know where you’re going

Our Savior is waiting

With welcoming arms

For you to come to Him

 

We’ll miss you down here

But we will be okay

We know where you’re going

That it will be better

 

We know we can trust Him

Our Savior to hold you

To welcome you to Him

Cuz He loves you the most

 

I treasure it all

Every hug, every smile

Every thing you came to

Every card that you wrote

 

I see you there

I choose to let go

Trusting our Savior

Who loves you the most

Even When It's Hard...

 A couple of years ago, things started really changing with my grandparents. It was a lot to process at the time. One of the ways I often make sense of things is poetry. In December of 2018, I shared a poem that I wrote about things that were happening with my Grandma at the time.

As I've been continuing to walk this in the last few months, I found that I was writing more of what felt like much the same poem as I shared in 2018. This part is a couple of months old now. I wrote it after visiting my Grandma on Mother's Day, back in May.

I see you there

Fighting to follow

The words that are spoken

Uncertain of what’s going on

 

I see you there

Dependent on others

To move and for care

Unable to do what you choose

 

I see you there

A smile peeks through

A moment, a glimpse

Of the Grandma I know

 

Reading Scripture aloud

Singing old hymns

The things you’ve held dear

And modelled for us

 

I bend down to hug you

You melt in my arms

No strong arms reach back

As they used to do

 

I miss all your hugs

The way you held tight

It’s my turn right now

To hug you well

 

Grandma, I love you

Feels not enough

Words can’t express 

Just how I feel

 

I’ve missed you for long

It’s not been the same

You’re there and you’re not

All in one breath

 

I see you there

I choose to let go

Trusting our Savior

Who loves you the most