The Gift of Remembering

Yesterday was a regular day around here; Dr. appointment, kids playing, chores, and school work. I'm trying desperately to wrap my brain around computery things and discovering that most how-to's and tutorials assume a level of prior knowledge that I do not have, so I spent hours studying/working and have very little show for it.

At some point I logged on to the breastfeeding support group that I help run and found that one of our mamas had experienced the unimaginable, the loss of her 10 month old baby. That kept me preoccupied for much of the rest of the day. Not actually doing anything, but thinking about it extensively, considered ways to reach out, and yes, crying for this dear mama.

Josie often climbs into our "remembering spot" and looks through photo albums of Mom, but yesterday it just caught me in the gut. I'm getting to that grief stage where it is not constant, but when it occurs it is very forceful. And so, I sat with her, held my child, and remembered.

So between the frustration of hitting brick walls in my studying, having a grief day in our home, and the loss of this baby being on the forefront of my mind, it was a rather topsy-turvy day, emotionally speaking. Last night after a grocery run and picking up the kids from VBS, I sat down again to quickly check in on FB before bed. There was the little red flag notice that I had a message and it said a friend had sent a photo. I opened it and saw the beautiful photo I've shared here. 

Back story - after mom passed away, I was struggling with how to talk to the kids about the fact that her body was not going to be interred in a casket the way they may have seen in movies or shows. I spoke about this with a friend who I just think the world of. He has a way with words and a way of viewing things that I often haven't considered. He did help me out by talking through this and giving me some ideas. A few days later, he wrote to tell me that as they worked in their yard this spring, his family had planted a sunflower in honor of my mother. Yesterday it bloomed and he sent me this photo.

As I sat and cried, cried for this mama who is just crushed with grief, cried for myself and our family as we experience this very different kind of grief and trying to figure out our new normal, I also cried over this gift of love and friendship. This gift of their family remembering and honoring someone they've never met.

At the end of the day, we want to know that our loved one mattered, that their life meant something, that someone else in this world is holding space for them. We need to know that our loved one's life had meaning, and of course by extension, that our lives have meaning. Let me be clear, I believe in eternity and heaven, but for now, I'm a temporal being in a temporal world and the here and now is what really resonates with me.

We each need to know that we matter, that someone would miss us if we were gone. Struggling hearts often express, “no one would miss me if I weren't here, so what is there to live for?” And on some level we all wonder that. Will there even be a hole when I am gone?  We recognize that we are but a speck in the vast universe, but we have this immense need to know that our speck matters. That the speck of those whom we loved, matters.

One of the greatest gifts you can give to a person who is grieving is the gift of remembering their loved one-and letting them know that you do. So every February, I think of Ellen and remember her loss. Every July, I reach out to Belinda as she grieves her husband. Every time I see a giraffe, I think of Ruth's mom.

Tim has passed this gift to me. That sunflower is going to complete its bloom, the seeds will feed birds and some will drop (or be collected) and re-grow next year. And thus, in a yard, 3,000 miles away, my mother's memory is nurtured. Her speck is enlarged. My heart is healed.

Grace, Mercy, and Forgiveness

I learn from my kids every day, sometimes deep and wonderful things, sometimes things that are a bit unsettling.

Recently I've had the kids give me such a good lesson in mercy that I want to share it.  This actually happened twice with different children involved, within the past few weeks. I'll relate one instance for you.

Jonny has a beloved toy, a metal Elmo lunchbox.  He frequently has it packed full of any number of treasures and totes it around.  On the day in question, he was actually using as a lunchbox and had, among other items, a large apple.  All things combined gave the box a bit of heft.  Which was all just fine until he, for some reason, swung it at Joy's head and connected.  She got a pretty good whomp on the had and was crying a bit. As part of his consequence, I took away his Elmo lunchbox.  Soon his cries joined hers.  A few minutes later, two teary children appeared in my doorway, her arms around her attacker, Joy interceded for leniency on his behalf.  "Please Mommy, don't take his lunchbox for a whole day, He loves his Elmo."  I replied, "Joy, he hit you with it, on purpose, and hurt you. Of course I have to punish him for that."   "I know mommy," she said, "but he's sorry, I'm sure he is."

Wow.  Instead of demanding justice and the fullest extent of the law brought down on the head of the one who had hurt her, Joy was shining a lesson in grace and forgiveness to me.  On her behalf, I did decide to extend mercy to the offender and gave him his Elmo Lunchbox back after a 20 minute "time-out" rather than the overnight I had planned on. 

Of all people, I know that justice is necessary and in fact, I'm quite fond of it.  I am very weak in the area of grace and often find it hard to give grace to others; I'm a no-nonsense, not-longsuffering-for-foolishness kind of person.  

There have been a few instances recently that have hurt my heart as I witnessed them, strident justice, untempered with Godly grace and mercy, laid upon people who admittedly did wrong.  It is hard to understand how we as Christians who have been the recipients of boundless grace and mercy, can so easily forget how much we have been forgiven and be so eager to bring down justice on the heads of those who offend us. 

Again, I'm not advocating that we NEVER seek justice, but I wonder if we have so thoroughly convinced ourselves that "God is a God of justice, sin must be stopped!" that we have forgotten that Jesus repeatedly told us not to be surprised if people hate us and do wrong to us, that he told us to turn the other cheek and give our cloak.  

Looking at the scenes that played out between my children, I think I understand why a little better.  It's not because we as Christ-followers are supposed to be mealy-mouthed door mats, no.

It is because there is nothing like the experience of having someone whom you offended/hurt turn and intercede on your behalf, to bring a small ray of understanding of exactly what Jesus did for us to the lost heart of someone who has not yet understood mercy and grace.  Perhaps our mercy and grace and forgiveness is meant to be an object lesson that will pierce the heart of our offender. 

What if mercy and grace were our first reaction rather than something we are reluctantly driven to?  What if even when legal justice has been meted out we chose to pour out personal grace and mercy on those who offended us? 

This is a personal challenge that the Lord has shown to me through the gentle hearts of my children, not a sermon given from a place of having already arrived.   All I can say is that the change in the heart of child who was being punished when the "victim" asked me to show mercy was something that pure justice could never bring about. It spoke to my heart and revealed things to me that have always bothered me about those "turn the other cheek" teachings.