Mystery

Colossians 1:26-29

The mystery has been kept in the dark for a long time, but now it's out in the open. God wanted everyone, not just jews, to know this rich and glorious secret inside and out, regardless of their background, regardless of their religious standing. The mystery in a nutshell is just this. Christ is in you, therefore you can look forward to sharing in God's glory. It's that simple. That is the substance of our Message. We preach Christ, warning people not to add to the Message. We teach in a spirit of profound common sense so that we can bring each person to maturity. To be mature is to be basic. Christ! No more, no less. That's what I'm working so hard at day after day, year after year, doing my best with the energy God so generously gives me.

This is such a simple truth. We don't add to it or take away from it. Christ. No more, no less. We focus our attention on so many additions to the gospel. We add rules, dress codes, lists, unattainable goals, and we are frustrated because we have so much trouble in our walk. We need to teach "in a spirit of profound common sense." We need to acquire common sense so that logical, thinking people will listen to us.

I Will Rise Above

I bought myself an ipod for my birthday; who would have ever thought that I would even want one. I got it to listen to audiobooks while I'm walking, but I put some music on it tonight and have been listening to Rissi Palmer's music. If you are not familiar with her, check her out. She is a little country, a little bluesy, a little gospel. Most of her songs are love songs or love gone wrong songs, but the last one on the cd is called "I'm not of this World." Even though I have heard the song many times, I don't think I ever listened to the lyrics closely until tonight. "When it's my time for leavin', how sweet it's gonna be; you can come along if you believe." A simple truth-why do we complicate it?

Colossians 1:13-14
God rescued us from dead-end alleys and dark dungeons. He's set us up in the kingdom of the Son he loves so much, the Son who got us out of the pit we were in, got rid of the sins we were doomed to keep repeating.

When I think about the pits Jesus has rescued me from, I am amazed and grateful. Some of those pits were physical, some emotional, and others spiritual. All three were so deep that I couldn't get myself out. I had to have help. Beth Moore has a book called Get out of That Pit that teaches that some pits we accidentally fall in, some we are thrown into by people or circumstances, and others we jump in willingly. I've been in all three types at some time in my life. It's embarrassing to think that I have known God's truth since childhood, but I ignored His truth and went my own way for many years.

I think this is called Stream of Consciousness blogging. Nothing is connected-just the thoughts that are coming to me.

Colossians 1:9-12

Be assured that from the first day we heard of you, we haven't stopped praying for you, asking God to give you wise minds and spirits attuned to his will, and so acquire a thorough understanding of the ways in which God works. We pray that you'll live well for the Master, making him proud of you as you work hard in his orchard. As you learn more and more how God works, you will learn how to do your work. We pray that you'll have the strength to stick it out over the long haul--not the grim strength of gritting your teeth but the glory-strength God gives. It is strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy, thanking the Father who makes us strong enough to take part in everything bright and beautiful that he has for us.

"Wise minds and spirits attuned to his will" "glory-strength" what wonderful things to pray for.
I don't often pray for myself. I remember thinking after my mom, dad, and sisters died that no one was praying for me like they used to. I knew that they prayed for me daily. It was such a gift. I think I am going to start praying for a wise mind, spirit attuned to his will, and glory-strength for myself and my family. What more could we need? I don't think I have ever heard the phrase "glory-strength" before, but I like the way it sounds. I can assure you I have needed God-given strength these past five weeks. I don't know how I could have put one foot in front of the other if God hadn't been with me. "Strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy" sounds like something I need, but not yet. I'm not ready to experience Joy--In the back of my mind, there is a barrier to joy. Step one, I need God to intervene and take away the barrier. How long will that take? I have no idea, but I know He is the only one who can do it.
At the present time, I don't want the barrier to go away. That seems ridiculous to admit, but it is true, not logical, but true. I'm holding on to my grief because it is what connects me to Jason. For thirty-three years I have been connected to him in a way that only another mother can understand. I don't want to lose that connection.

God's orchard

Colossians 1:3-5
The Message is as true among you today as when you first heard it. It doesn't diminish or weaken over time. It's the same all over the world. The Message bears fruit and gets larger and stronger, just as it has in you.

I want to bear fruit for God. I always thought bearing fruit meant you were leading people to Christ, and I felt like a complete failure. Now I realize that bearing fruit is exhibiting Christ-like responses to life. If we do not respond to life differently than people who do not know Christ, why would anyone want to follow us. Jason's death has been the ultimate challenge for me. I have a responsibility to Christ to respond in a Christ-like manner. What does that mean? I don't want anyone to think that I am ok with Jason's death. I'm not, but what are my options-- bitterness, sadness, hopelessness or acceptance with hope of heaven.

Amazing Grace

Philippians 4:23 Receive and experience the amazing grace of the Master, Jesus Christ, deep, deep within yourselves.

Deep, deep within--how do you experience amazing grace any other way except deep, deep within? Grace isn't superficial, grace isn't transitory, grace is a part of the Christ follower. Why doesn't everyone want amazing grace? In most instances we get what we pay for, we get what we earn, we get what we deserve, but with Jesus we experience grace-unmerited favor. He forgives us and casts our sins as far as the east is from the west. The concept is so far beyond our understanding because we hold on to our grievances against other people as long as we can. We waste our thoughts and time on holding grudges against other people. We may eventually forgive them because we read the Bible and are reminded that we must forgive, but Jesus doesn't have to be reminded. He forgives.

Frustration

Just when you think people are listening to God for the first time in years, their lives take a turn, and chaos causes them to focus on the immediate instead of the eternal. I have seen this happen in my own life, and now I am watching it happen in my family. The message has to remain solid. God is bigger than circumstances. If the last five weeks have taught me anything, it is that God remains firm. Our lives can feel out of control, but God is in control; control is in God. I have wanted to scream, throw a fit, yell at someone for five weeks now, but I haven't. I have turned my grief over to God and tried my best to abide in Him. What exactly does that mean? I have tried to stay connected to God through His word, through music that reminds me who He is, through prayer. Although my prayer life is different than it has been, it is more constant. If I didn't say brief, "keep me close" prayers throughout the day, I would be a mess.
All of that is personal, private, but the one thing that is not private is my church attendance. I have learned that I must have the lessons, music, sermons, relationships that can only be had in church. I have heard people all my life say that you can be a Christian without going to church. That may be true, but I don't believe we are made to go it alone. God wants us to connect with other Christians for encouragement, enlightenment, and accountability. I thank God daily for my church friends. The people in my Sunday School class make that hour one of the best hours of the week. I look forward to seeing them and sharing in their lives. Every one of them has been placed in that group for a reason. They all bring something different to the discussion, but that is what we need. We don't need to surround ourselves with people in our exact circumstances, with people who agree with us on every issue. We need people to bring a different perspective to the lesson so that we can get the full message intended for us.
I am better prepared to face each week because of the friendship and support I feel from the people in our class. I hope they feel the same.

Another Saturday

I wonder how long it will take for me to get to a Saturday without thinking, "It has been ______ weeks since I talked to Jason. Every week brings new challenges--this week we made a few big steps. We went to the football game Friday night, Tony's first at our new stadium. He agrees with me that it is a quality facility. It shouldn't remind us of Jason; he chose to focus on his horse, so he didn't play football after his freshman year, but for some reason I couldn't stop thinking of him. I saw friends of his, Allison's, and Carson's and they all looked at me with the same expression that I see everywhere I go. Today I walked in a 5K in Pink, Oklahoma. It was an American Cancer Society fund raiser, so I saw several people that I have known for years because of my volunteer work with ACS; it was the first time I have seen them since Jason's death. They were all so kind; I'm so fortunate to have such good friends in so many different realms--school, church, community. They have really blessed me this past month.
We continue to receive cards. Most of them we get now include letters or encouraging personal notes telling us of their relationship with Jason. It is so heartening to hear of the good memories they share with us. Two cards were from parents who have also lost a child. I already wrote about the Swaffords; the other couple we received a card from was from Kansas. They told us that their 13 year old daughter was killed in an ATV accident last spring. I don't mean to diminish anyone else's pain, but losing a child that still lives at home would be unbearable to me.
No matter what age the child is, the parents should not have to outlive them. My dad only lived nine months after Phyllis's death; he was 82 when she died, and she was 55. The grief was unbearable for him and, I think, contributed to his death. I know how much losing Jason has hurt us, but our day-to-day lives haven't been impacted as much as the people he lived around in Nebraska. He is always on my mind, but I didn't have to clean out his room, see evidence of his current life all around me. We are all going to face the holidays this year with a new reality. I went shopping for a few minutes after the walk. It's not even Halloween, but the stores are all putting out hints of Christmas. I am going to have to toughen up before Christmas. Right now I just feel sadness; how can I go from buying for three kids to buying for two?

His most excellent harmonies.

Philippians 4:8-9
Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious--the best, not the worst, the beautiful, not the ugly, things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.

Controling the thoughts that go into my mind is key. I can't control the thoughts that come to me, but I can control the things that I meditate on. I know the healthiest way to this is to continue to read God's word, listen to music that uplifts, read positive advice from Godly writers. For the past several years I have had trouble watching the news--too much tragedy, too much evidence that our society is imploding, but now I can't watch even the television shows that I used to watch. I'm sensitive to the point that I just turn off the television and reading anytime something comes on that makes me uncomfortable. It's hard to respond appropriately to the silliness of the shows that last season I didn't want to miss.
I must focus on true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious--the best, not the worst.
That's difficult to find in our society today, but it is available if we want to look for it.

Praise? When will I be able to praise?

"I will praise you in this storm." I thought I had been through a few of life's storms--thought I knew what heartache and loss meant. I felt such despair when Phyllis was sick for so long and when I finally realized that she wasn't going to get well.
My friend Mel shared with me something that she learned in a grief seminar she once attended. When you lose a child, you grieve the past and the future. That's where I am right now. I'm grieving the future. I thought it would be difficult to look at baby and childhood pictures of Jason, but it isn't. That little boy has been gone for years. I have never been able to watch videoes of my children without feeling sadness; they were so cute and fun; the time went too fast; I didn't savor the moments like I should have. What I can't come to terms with now is that Jason doesn't have a future here with us. I believe he has a future in heaven, but I'm selfish, worldly, human.
I want to be able to praise again. In my logical mind I can find reason to praise, but my heart takes over when I try. I read some passages in the Psalms and could relate to David when he is asking God where he is, why he let me down? I have to continue reading because I know that God mad himself known to David. David was able to praise God, to testify to God's goodness, and I will be able to again some day.

Pray about everything

Philippians 4:5-7
Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.

These are familiar verses to those of us who follow Jesus. The advice is good; practicing the advice is not so easy. I can look at the events of the past years and see that God worked things out for us as good as they could be. Jason spent time with the people he loved--established relationships with some and renewed relationships with others. I have to admit I worried about him, but I was concerned for things of this world. Was he taking care of his health? Finances? All of those things are trivial. I prayed for him daily. For several years I have kept a prayer journal; I haven't been able to go back and read them since Jason's death, but I can assure you they are full of prayers for the spiritual, emotional, and physical safety of my family. I guess I thought it was a guarantee that God would take care of them--some kind of spiritual good luck charm. Since Jason's accident I have felt vulnerable; I can't keep anyone safe from this world.
I am going to have to rely on these verses to get me back to the "Pray about everything" way of thinking. I have survived losing a child because I have people praying for me. I feel their prayers at dark moments each day. Continue to pray for me--pray that I will feel God's wholeness and will settle down.

Sweet card

Today I received a sweet card from Virgil and Rosa Lee Swafford. Their son Troy was one of Tony's basketball players in Wellston. Troy died summer before last of cancer. The card was full of hope and peace that we will again see our sons again in heaven. This gives me such encouragement that I may be able to offer condolences to grieving parents in the future. Now the pain is too fresh, but later maybe I can help others who are suffering the greatest loss. I'm jealous of the Swaffords; Troy had three sons who will give the family joy for the remainder of their lives. A part of me wishes Jason had had children, but the other part of me couldn't imagine comforting hurting grandchildren and explaining such a horrible tragedy to them.

How long do we wait?

Philippians 3:20-21

But there's far more to life for us. We're citizens of high heaven. We're waiting the arrival of the Savior, the Master, Jesus Christ, who will transform our earthly bodies in to glorious bodies like his own. He'll make us beautiful and whole with the same powerful skill by which he is putting everything as it should be, under and around him.

My entire life I have heard that Jesus is coming, yet we're still here in this world--still struggling with the sin and consequences of sin. Selfishly, I want him to come now so that I can see my family who is in heaven, but I also have people whom I love dearly who have not accepted Christ's forgiveness, so like Jesus, I have to be longsuffering, patient. What a task.

Keep it up

Philippians 2:12-13
What I'm getting at, friends, is that you should simply keep on doing what you've done from the beginning. When I was living among you, you lived in responsive obedience. Now that I'm separated from you, keep it up. Better yet redouble your efforts. Be energetic in your life of salvation, reverent and sensitive before God. That energy is God's energy, and energy deep within you. God himself willing and working at what will give him the most pleasure.

The last few days I have felt a physical exhaustion that is getting the best of me. I'm still not sleeping as well as I should--better than last week, but not great. I was too busy this past weekend; I didn't get much time to just relax. Now I know why--I should be asking for God's energy not my own strength. I can't seem to pray like I used to. My prayers now are for the immediate just like my life has been for the past month. It is October 20, the calendar anniversary of Jason's death. He died on Sept. 20, so we have now made it through the four Saturday nights anniversary and the one month anniversary.
Life has continued all around us, and we have been a part of it and separate from it. I can't explain that, but I feel like I'm an outsider in this world right now. My mind doesn't focus like it should. Continue to pray for me--that I will get God's energy.

How are you?

What do you say when people ask how you are? I have seen several people this weekend that I haven't seen in a while--some I haven't seen at since before Jason's death. They always ask the same question--how are you guys doing? I keep saying, "We're ok." That's the best I can do right now. Will I ever be able to say, "We're good," or will spend the rest of my life just ok. I am having a difficult time believing that a month has gone by. Even though I have been told that the pain lessens, I can't imagine what it will be like to get beyond this pain. How can I ever find myself not thinking of Jason and feeling this weight of sadness and loss. We took flowers to the cemetery Saturday morning. I looked around the area and saw Heather Harwell, Kenny Cook, Bobbie Cook , and I thought of the other grieving parents. Is there a time-table that will tell me
when I will feel whole again, or does that never happen? Will I always feel like a part of me is missing? I keep thinking that the first year will be the most difficult--once we have done everything once, Thanksgiving, Christmas, his birthday, the anniversary of his death--it will be easier for us. I don't want to think that this pain will stay as fresh as it is now, but I can't imagine ever being truly happy without him.

Meanwhile

Phillipians 1: 27-30
Meanwhile, live in such a way that you are a credit to the Message of Christ.

I wrote last night that I had relived the week of Jason's death. I have tried to revisit the funeral--remember the music, the words of hope, the feeling of peace that I left the service with.
Shawn Jeffcoat and my nephew Marty made us laugh and cry with their memories of growing up with Jason, Jamie's song gave comfort to us, but it was Jimmy's message that I keep going back to. He said, "Jason is more alive now than he has ever been. " That's something I can hold on to. I can't quote the other statement that gave me peace, but it said something like--We think we are living in the land of the living headed for the land of the dying, but actually we are living in the land of the dying headed for the land of the living.
I have had enough of death--Freddy, Momma, Phyllis, Daddy, Linda, and now the unthinkable, Jason. I want to live in a place that death can't reach. Meanwhile, I must remain in this world. I can be certain that death will come to our family again--we can't escape it. In the ideal scenerio everyone will live to a ripe old age and go out after a long, healthy life, but this world is not ideal.
Pray for me that I won't become bitter, angry, hopeless--that I will live in such a way that I am "a credit to the message of Christ."

Orange Power

I made it through dinner, through the Walkaround, but not through the drive home. All evening I kept seeing guys in Wranglers, orange starched shirts, and cowboy hats. The AGR's had "My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys" playing. It was just too much. I'm glad I went, but I was ready to leave. Too many memories flooding back at me on the drive home to ignore. It has been four weeks--that doesn't seem possible to me. I relived the first week in my mind tonight. Truthfully I can't remember very much. From some of the things I have read, that is a common phenomenon. It seems that God has made us so that severe tragedy and the pain that goes with it sometimes puts us in an anesthesized state. The anesthesia has worn off.
Something that Janna and I have always done when dealing with grief is look for a sadder story. When Phyllis died, we would remind ourselves that Darla (Monty's wife) was only two when her mother died. She has no memories of her mother, and Janna and I have vivid memories of Phyllis that make us smile and sometimes laugh.
I guess I'm too selfish in this situation. I can't even look for the sadder story this time; I know they are out there, but I'm so self-absorbed that I can only focus on how it feels to lose my child.
My friend Kay sent me an advent calendar because she knew I was concerned about getting through Christmas. The title of the calendar is "Holding on to Hope." I'm not going to wait for advent to read it; I'm going to begin tonight and read it through twice before Christmas. I have to find something to hold on to.

New book-new theme

I am reading now from Philippians, continuing in The Message. Sometimes when I read something that Peterson puts in today's language, I go back to the NIV to see what was there. Remarkably, he is pretty much on the mark. It encourages me that God's word transcends time.
Phillipians 1:9-11
So this is my prayer: that your love will flourish and that you will not only love much but well. Learn to love appropriately. You need to use your head and test your feelings so that your love is sincere and intelligent, not sentimental gush. Live a lover's life, circumspect and exemplary, a life Jesus will be proud of: bountiful in fruits from the soul, making Jesus Christ attractive to all, getting everyone involved in the glory and praise of God.

Much of today's passage is tied up in the word "discernment" in the NIV. If we all would just test our feelings to see that they are sincere and intelligent, our lives would be lived with fewer regrets. I want to live a life "bountiful in fruits from the soul." I want people to look at my life and see Jesus.

Out of sync

If you have been following this blog, you may have realized that I have gotten into a pattern. I post a scripture with comments in the morning and my own thoughts in the evening. Today I didn't have to go to school, so I'm out of sync. First, for those of you who know that I haven't been sleeping this week, I slept last night. I went to bed by 11:00 last night, and I didn't wake up until 5:30 this morning. That's the longest I have slept in weeks. I watched television for a while and went back to sleep until 7:30--what an answer to prayer. Thank all of you who mention me in your prayers each day. I stayed busy all day--cleaning house, doing laundry, finalizing Jason's business at the bank, going to the tag office to take care of more of his business--will it ever end?
To finish my reading of Ephesians chapter 6 in The Message, I was encouraged by the passage.

God's Word is an indispensable weapon. In the same way, prayer is essential in this ongoing warfare. Pray hard and long. Pray for your brothers and sisters. Keep your eyes open. Keep each other's spirits up so that no one falls behind or drops out.
And don't forget to pray for me. Pray that I'll know what to say and have the courage to say it at the right time, telling the mystery to one and all, the Message that I, jailbird preacher that I am, am responsible for getting out.

If Paul had to ask for prayer to know what to say and the courage to say it, I don't feel quite so bad about my own lack of courage.
I also know that I will continue to look into the scripture for hope and to pray for my family and friends who need Jesus.

Fall Break at Last

I said earlier that I have been putting out fires for three weeks. I'm hoping that I can get enough accomplished during my break that I can slow down for awhile. I have to figure out what life looks like now for all of us. We are going to Stillwater Friday for the Walkaround. Last year Jason went with us, we ate at the Hideaway and enjoyed a beautiful, fun evening. I want this year to be the same, but I'm scared. I don't know how I will respond emotionally. I haven't fallen apart in public, so far. I will need to be prayed up and ready for the onslaught of images that OSU brings to my mind. I want Carson's years there to be as special for him as Jason's and Allison's were. I don't want him to worry about making me sad when he wants me to visit or be a part of something.
I continue to get cards in the mail every day. I have sometimes thought that I shouldn't send a card if I don't get it in the mail in the first week or so. I never realized how meaningful the cards are the weeks following a loss. It doesn't make me sad every day when I get the mail. Again I am humbled by the kindness of so many people who continue to pray for us and send notes about their love and respect for Jason.
Today I received a card from Kerry (Young) Mose--a schoolmate of Jason's and one of my former cheerleaders. The message on card was a verse that describes heaven like this:

What is Heaven?
Heaven is where Jesus is.
It is the place--
where everything lasts forever,
where everything that is best remains,
where everything good is celebrated,
where light fills every space,
where love fills every heart,
where worship fills every breath,
where praise never stops,
where pain never enters,
where joys never cease.

I love the verse--look forward to experiencing such a place.
I should be at peace knowing that Jason is experiencing heaven as described. I shouldn't wish him back, but the human side of me is selfish. I want him here with us. It's not logical, but it's true. Every mother wants her child to have the best life possible. When I think about the contrast between this world and the one Jason now lives in, I should be glad that he is in such a perfect place.
That is a level of spiritual maturity that goes beyond me at this time. I don't know if I will ever get there. It was easy to think that way with my parents and my sisters. They suffered greatly before their deaths--so much that we were all relieved when they went to heaven. Even though my sisters were not old, they had lived full, rich lives--married, had children, grandchildren. I thought they were both cheated because they didn't live to be old. In this situation not only was Jason cheated of a long life, I feel cheated. I brought three children into the world. I expected to have grandchildren from all three. I feel vulnerable because I can't be assured that the future I imagined for our family will happen. Does any of this make sense?

Prepared for this--never.

Ephesians 6:13+

Be prepared. You're up against far more than you can handle on your own. Take all the help you can get, every weapon God has issued, so that when it's all over but the shouting, you'll still be on your feet. Truth, righteousness, peace, faith, and salvation are more than words. Learn how to apply them. You'll need them throughout your life.

How can a person prepare for such a great loss? It can't be done. For many things we have to go through in our lives, we can talk to someone who has experienced what we are facing in advance. No one puts themselves through the loss of a child in advance. We don't want to even think about such a horrible tragedy, much less prepare for it. I never in my wildest imagination thought about what "this" would feel like, but I know now that the weapons I had in my arsenal, God-issued weapons, have helped me handle this loss.
I'm so thankful to my parents, sisters, pastors, Sunday school teachers, friends who have contributed to my faith. I'm applying it today more than at any time in my life. Continue to pray for me and my family.

"Volunteering Jason"

I keep hearing from some of you who have worked with Jason through the years that he was always willing to lend a hand. I have a couple of great stories from his time with us last year. I volunteer for American Cancer Society and am involved in Tecumseh's Relay for Life. Last year when Jason was here, he came out while we were setting up our tent city on Friday afternoon. We had already had to change the location from the football practice field with the track around it to the high school parking lot because we had had so much rain that week. Jason came out to help up put up the big tents--like firecracker stands-- heavy plastic tents that are not easy to set up in perfect conditions. Just about the time he and some others were setting up one huge army tent, a wind and rain storm blew in and knocked the tent down on top of them all. They all came out from under that canvas one at a time soaked, frustrated, and laughing. We ended up having to move the relay inside; the only problem was that the Alumni building started flooding. Let's just say that what he volunteered for should have been much easier than what we had to do. He pitched in and helped just as I knew he would. The next morning we needed someone with a truck to take the big tent back to Shawnee, so I asked Jason if he could do it. He came down and found that a bunch of exhausted women were trying to take the tent apart. We eventually recruited a few others, but he kept looking at me like, "What have you gotten me into?"

A few months later our Sunday School class was asked to help another class prepare a meal for the Bible school workers. Our VBS is in the evening, so classes take turns preparing dinner for the teachers. Our class had never done this, so I didn't really know what to expect. The thing that our class has in common is that we all commute to church--anywhere from 10 to 45 minutes. I had some people bring food to me, and some dropped theirs off at the church. As I was leaving the house, I asked Jason if he wanted to ride with me to take the food to the church. He said he'd ride along with me; I thought we were just going to drop the food off and leave. As I said, we had never done this before. When we got there, we discovered that we were expected to serve the food and clean up after the dinner, and Jason and I were the only ones there. Again I kept getting that "look" from him. The funniest thing was that we had cooked Mexican food for adults, not realizing the obvious, the VBS workers had children, so we fed more kids than adults. Jason and I had made a huge bowl of guacamole that those kids looked at and turned up their noses. They would have been much happier with tacos and burritos than with Mexican casseroles, enchiladas, and taco salad. He pitched in and served those kids, helped me clean up and returned home hours later than we expected. I will cherish those memories forever of my selfless, adult son and the "look" he gave me the next I asked him if he wanted to help me with one of my projects.

Time

Ephesians 5:11-16

Don't waste your time on useless work, mere busywork, the barren pursuits of darkness. Expose those things for the sham they are. It's a scandal when people waste their lives on things they must do in the darkness when no one will see. Rip the cover off those frauds and see how attractive they look in the light of Christ.

Wake up from your sleep

Climb out of your coffins,

Christ will show you the light!

So watch your step. Use our head. Make the most of every chance you get. These are desperate times.



I keep thinking of that ten months Jason lived here with us. Did we make the most of our time? He was busy; I was busy. Was I busy doing useless work? Did I make the most of the time he was here? I have good memories of attending church, going to movies, going to dinner--what about those times when we were just at home--doing nothing. I wish now we had talked--really talked about the important things--the things that matter. Jason was different with me than he was with his friends. I saw him with his friends and Carson and Allison; he was funny, silly, talkative, but he and I could sometimes just sit and watch television together, saying nothing. Did I squelch his true personality when he was around me? I have few regrets about my relationship with him, but I do regret not connecting on a deep level with him when he was here.
I wish I had made the most of our time together.

Religious smooth talk

Ephesians 5:5-10
Don't let yourselves get taken in by religious smooth talk. God gets furious with people who are full of religious sales talk but want nothing to do with him. Don't even hang around people like that.
You groped your way through that murk once, but no longer. You're out in the open now. The bright light of Christ makes your way plain. So no more stumbling around. Get on with it! The good, the right, the true--these are the actions appropriate for daylight hours. Figure out what will please Christ, and then do it.

Believe me I've heard my share of religious sales talk--the kind of talk that makes me feel not just discomfort but embarrassment. Many years ago I read a book called something like Following Jesus without Embarrassing God. I feel very strongly that some of the most prominent Christians in our nation today are an embarrassment to God. They do more harm than good to further the kingdom. I don't consider myself to have the gift of discernment, but I do have the Holy Spirit who quickens my heart and mind when I hear someone use platitudes and quote scripture out of context to explain events that are taking place in our world.
I don't want to be guilty of trying to say the right thing and saying my words are from God.
The only way I can know God's message is by reading His Word.
What does all of this have to do with this blog? I don't really know, but I feel an urgency to share the gospel in the most succinct way possible.
How can I get through losing my firstborn? Because I have not once believed that he ceased to exist on September 20, 2008. I know he knew Jesus died for his sins, I know he accepted Jesus as his Savior, and I know that he is now in heaven--fully alive.
I don't want to turn into a religious fanatic who turns people away; I want to continue to reach out to my friends and family who need Jesus by showing them kindness and compassion.
I have family and dear friends who have not accepted Jesus. They all have different reasons; some have heard the truth but have not accepted; some have been turned off by "religious smooth talk," others believe they are ok because they are basically "good." What can I do to reach them?
One of the reasons I have continued to drive 23 miles to church is that I am seeing adults baptized on a regular basis. Someone is reaching them; how are they doing it? How do they get a person to visit a church for the first time? I know the music is great, the preaching is solid, but how do you get them in the door to hear the music and preaching? How do they break down the barriers that keep people from God's salvation?
I don't want Jason's death to be for nothing. I want something good to come from this tragedy. If I am going to spend the rest of my life without him, I want to see something positive come about because of his death. If you are reading this and you are a Christian who knows God's salvation, I'm going to ask you to pray with me. Pray for our friends and family who need to accept Jesus's sacrifice for their sins.

email message from God

I received an email tonight from Patty who told me her preacher preached on Isaiah 40:29-31 this morning at Bethel Baptist in Norman. She said she thought of me and my family while he was preaching.
Here are the verses and possibly some surrounding them in The Message.

God doesn't come and go. God lasts.
He's creator of all you can see or imagine.
He doesn't get tired out, doesn't pause to catch his breath,
and He knows everything, inside and out.
He energizes those who get tired
gives fresh strength to dropouts.
For even young people tire and drop out,
young folk in their prime stumble and fall.
But those who wait upon God get fresh strength.
They spread their wings and soar like eagles,
They run and don't get tired,
they walk and don't lag behind.

It's Sunday night. I don't know if every profession feels this, but it is universally known by teachers that Sunday night is a killer. It must be true for others because Hallmark has a Hoops and YoYo card called Spastic Colon Sunday Night. We are all trying to get everything ready for a busy week--tie up loose ends from last week, you know the drill. I told a couple of people today that I feel like I have been putting out fires for three weeks. I have made no moves until the deadline is here, and that is not a comfortable place for me. I was so very tired this afternoon, but because I am afraid of not sleeping at night I refused to take a Sunday afternoon nap. I checked my email before I was getting ready to finish my grades and had this message. So...I am going to rely on God for fresh strength and soar through this series of tasks before me. I have first period plan, so I can do my lesson plans for my three day week in the morning. I have been so distracted by all that has to be done that I haven't been efficient at anything. I always tell my students that we do large tasks the same way we eat an elephant--one bite at a time--I have forgotten my own advice and just sat and looked at the monumental list before me and felt too overwhelmed to begin. I'm going to sign off now and begin eating the elephant before me. Thank you all for your prayers.

Defeat then Victory

These are words used in my circle of friends often. Today was bittersweet for me. OU lost to Texas--I will not cheer against OU even though I am an OSU fan. I don't talk trash because I get mad when people talk trash to me. Then tonight--sweet victory--OSU beat Missouri. I wanted so much to talk to Jason about the game. It would have been his first opportunity to see them play on national television., so I assume his friends in Nebraska were able to watch. I know in the whole scheme of things this should not be important to me, but our family shared a love for Cowboy sports. It is not easy to celebrate with one less fan.

Wake up

Wake up from your Sleep Ephesians 5:1-2

Watch what God does, and then you do it, like children who learn proper behavior from their parents. Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with him and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn't love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. Love like that.

I have told several people lately that I am refreshed by the love taught and shown in my church. All my life I witnessed true Christian love exhibited by my mother. She was not judgemental, she was not self-righteous. She just loved, loved, loved. Many of my friends have told me that my mother was the only real Christian they ever came in contact with. The only one who followed the teachings of Jesus and didn't seem holier-than-thou and critical. She really "Got It." She got the idea that what matters most is winning people to God, and you were not going to win them by looking down on them and making them feel like their lifestyle was so awful that she couldn't have anything to do with them. Fortunately, I have had many people in my life who were like my mother, so I can't really say that she is the only Christian I have known. What I am most impressed with is that the young preachers of today "Get It," My pastor is not 40, yet he has the wisdom to teach us of a much older man. Kenny Myers who was at the Tecumseh church a few years ago was younger than that, and he "Got It."
They preach Christ's love. Don't get me wrong, they expect a lifestyle change for Christ followers, but they are accepting of people who enter the church for the first time wearing the "wrong" thing, looking different, not really knowing how to "play church."
The group of people who worship together at Harrah Church are as eclectic a group as I have ever seen. They wear everything from shorts. t-shirts. and flip-flops to three piece suits and typical "church" dresses. The music is everything from accoustic with vocals to rock. What does this mean? This means that our church is reaching out to the lost. I can assure you that many of the older people who have been Christians for years would prefer a more traditional style of music (of course, I'm not old enough to be in that group), but they continue to come because people are being saved, lives are being changed. IT'S NOT ABOUT US--IT'S ABOUT THE LOST.
Once when I was a little girl, we got a new pastor. I overheard my mom talking to one of her friends about it, so being the typical, nosy third grader, I evesdropped on the conversaion.
Rome Stewart had been our pastor for a few years, and he got up every morning and went for a walk around the neighborhood. Several of the elderly women of our church lived within walking distance, so Bro. Stewart checked on them each morning. When Jack Richey came to our church, he didn't do this (it wasn't in the job description; it was just something Rome did). I guess some of the old ladies had their feelings hurt because the new preacher wasn't checking on them any more. Jack was all about the young people; his focus was on the youth and young families.
I had never heard my mom criticize anyone in her church before, but this time she did. I heard her say, "Those ladies are saved, on their way to heaven; Jack is trying to reach those who need Jesus." My mom was so ahead of her time in her Christian thinking. I thank God everyday for her influence.

Finally Friday

I made it through a very long week--Thank you all for your prayers. For the most part I accomplished everything I set out to do. I intended to go to the football game tonight, but when the pep assembly ended and I walked out to my car, I knew I couldn't continue to the parade and the football game.
I'm so blessed to have a husband that understands me. When I walked in the door, he took one look at me and suggested we go to Norman to eat, go to the mall to walk and come home to a quiet evening. When we got home, I worked on some of the plants that I hadn't brought into the house yet and started watching television for the first time in weeks. Cindy called and said she would come down and get the last thank you notes to get ready to send. I went into the living room to tell Tony that she was coming down, and he was listening to the football game with an old set of headphones with a radio in them. He had a piece of foil on the antennae, and I cracked up. He looked like he was communicating with aliens. Cindy walked in and laughed for several minutes. We had been working on the thank yous for several minutes when Brody, Cindy's grand-dog, saw Tony. This is a dog that doesn't bark or growl usually. He went nuts, barking, growling, bowing up, sitting up on his hind legs. It was the funniest sight I have seen in a long time. Cindy and I laughed at that silly dog and Tony until we were out of breath and hurting. It felt so good to laugh, really laugh--the kind of laughter that takes your breath away. Don't worry, we took pictures.

Anger

Ephesians 4:26-27
Go ahead and be angry. You do well to be angry--but don't use your anger as fuel for revenge. And don't stay angry. Don't go to bed angry. Don't give the Devil that kind of foothold in your life.

I don't know about al of you, but anger does a real job on me. When I get angry at someone, something, some injustice, I can dwell on it for days. According to this scripture, I should resolve my anger before I go to bed. Tough teaching. How many nights in my life have I lain awake letting anger and resentment fester in me when I should have turned it over to God, turned out the light, and gone to sleep. I hope there is no pie chart in heaven telling us how we spent our thinking time here on earth. How embarrassing for a person who is supposed to follow the teachings of Christ. Jesus got angry with the Pharasees, but he did't get revenge on them; on occasion he got angry at his disciples because they fell asleep when he told them to pray, but he didn't pout and not speak to them again. I'm a pouter; ok I said it; is there a support group for pouters? When I'm in one of my moods, my family knows to leave me alone for awhile, and I'll get over it. What an awful witness to them of what a Christian is supposed to be. Pray for me that I will control my emotions-not pout until I get my way.
I'm angry about Jason's wreck. I prayed for his safety, but he died anyway. I have thought for the last almost three weeks that my prayers were useless, but I can't stop praying for my family. I know I won't ever know why this tragedy had to happen, but I hope that in time I can get beyond the bitterness that is trying to gain a "foothold" in my life. That anger and bitterness does not come from God.

Sharing God's Messages

I think I can now share some of the events surrounding the time around Jason's death that I believe happened to bring me peace. I have heard all my life people say that they knew that God had given them a personal message, but truthfully I don't think I ever believed them. I thought they had experienced coincidences that they were attributing to God. I don't think that anymore. I've already said that Jason called the morning he died, and we had a nice conversation. Nothing special--just typical, but the important thing is I heard his voice one last time, and it was a happy voice. He asked about his dad and his new healthy diet, my classes, both the ones I teach and the ones I am taking, he asked about Allison and Carson, Janna and the girls, Evan--has he played any games, does Janna get to go watch him play? We laughed that he was playing golf in a tournament--I wish I had known it would have been the last time I would ever hear his voice, but that would have changed the conversation--made it artificial, unreal. What that call has done is make me value every conversation I have with the people I love. I won't be cavalier about my relationships ever again. I won't take my friends and family for granted.
Carson went to a concert at the OKC Zoo Saturday evening with plans to spend the night in OKC with Nick French. I had talked for a long time to Allison that afternoon, and she told me she was home alone and kind of enjoying it. We're alike in that way. I love to have time home alone on occasion. I would not like it all the time, but about once or twice a month, I like to have an afternoon or evening to myself. When we got that "knock" on the door at 3:00 AM and realized that we were going to have to tell our children the worst news of their lives, we believed Allison was going to be home alone, and Carson was going to be on the other side of OKC at Nick's. I wanted to drive to them, but Tony said he would make the calls. He called Allison first, but her phone was turned off. He called Carson next, and he answered. What we didn't know was that Saturday night Carson decided to drive back to Stillwater instead of staying in OKC. He had three tests the next week and needed to study on Sunday. Instead of them having to both drive down here, little brother made another huge step into manhood and drove big sister safely to our house. I am so richly blessed that my children are not only siblings but also friends. Jason was close to Allison and Carson--a gift that I will cherish for the remainder of my life. I know Carson may not realize it, but I believe the Holy Spirit of God told him to return to Stillwater because he was going to be needed there. I'm so thankful he listened.
On Sunday following Jason's accident, my cousin Becky called to cry with me. She told me that she woke up at 3:00 AM. Her first thought was that she needed to pray, but she had no idea for whom. She has two boys in college at OU, so that was her first thought. She just asked God to hear her prayer and take care of whoever she was supposed to be praying for. It was at that exact moment that the sheriff's deputies knocked on our door. I can tell you that the news of Jason's death knocked me to the floor, but I got up. I believe I got up because Becky was interceding in my behalf. I want to have that tender spirit that listens to God's voice and reaches out to others who need Him.

Amazing

This thing is better than Google. I asked a question and had several people call or send messages to me. The important thing is that I have the answers I was looking for about his truck. I don't have a death certificate yet, so I'm on hold, but I know exactly what I have to do now when I get those dreaded papers. Thanks to everyone who responded to my plea.
I have made it through most of the long, long week. I took my test tonight--didn't know everything because I missed a video when I missed class, but I knew enough for a B at least. Maybe she'll curve the grade, and I will luck out. I gave my semester tests today, graded them, and can finish my grades in a couple of hours now. The tasks seemed monumental at the beginning of the week, but day by day, hour by hour, they all got checked off the list. Tomorrow is Homecoming Day--a crazy day at school. We have a pep assembly in the afternoon and a parade after that. It is good to see the kids who participate having a good time.

Time to hit the floor running.

Before I can begin my busy day, I must sit quietly, read, pray, reflect.
The passage I read this morning is again in The Message (if you don't know what that is, it is a Bible in contemporary language). Don't use it as a study Bible, but it is interesting to read for inspiration and reflection.
Today's passage is Ephesions 4:13-16.
He handed out gifts of apostle, prophet, evangelist, and pastor-teacher to train Christians in skilled servant work, working within Christ's body, the church, until we're all moving rhythmically and easily with each other, efficient and graceful in response to God's Son, fully mature adults, fully developed within and without, fully alive like Christ.
No prolonged infancies among us, please. We'll not tolerate babes in the woods, small children who are an easy mark for impostor. God wants us to grow up, to know the whole truth and tell it in love--like Christ in everything. We take our lead from Christ, who is the source of everything we do. He keeps us in step with each. His very breath and blood flow through us, nourishing us so that we will grow up healthy in God, robust in love.

I have heard so many times these past weeks, "You are so Strong." Believe me I am not strong. Any strength I am able to exhibit comes from God. I am so thankful that my mother made sure I was equipped for this life. If she hadn't made sure I was in Sunday School and church, if she hadn't been the ultimate Christian witness to me, if she hadn't been patient with me in my "silly seasons," I might find myself in complete despair. We live in a fallen world where tragedy knocks us around. My mom taught me how to fight back with the only weapon that works. If she had failed to do her job as a Christian mother, I could be angry, bitter, despondent right now. I tried to be the kind of mother she was; I couldn't hold a candle to her faith when I was younger, but I took my children to church and tried to live a good example for them. I hope Carson nor Allison ever have to face this kind of loss, but whatever life hands them, I pray that I equipped them to handle it in faith and grace.
Jason did; he never exhibited any bitterness to me. The boy had experienced loss--his grandad, his high school girlfriend was killed in a car accident and buried on his 21st birthday, his best friend's son was killed in a car accident, his marriage ended badly, but he didn't fold. He knew that Jesus was still there through all of the pain. He spent those ten months in church with me under preaching that taught him a solid way to live. I thank all of the Sunday School teachers, preachers, youth workers, Cowboy Church members for continuing what I tried to start in our home. May God Bless you All.

Thank you all

It is 10:00, and I am finished making out my two finals for tomorrow. I am really tired, so I will go to bed and count on studying for my midterm while my students are taking their tests tomorrow and during my planning period and lunch. Again pray for clarity of thought. My class is called Students with Mild Disorders and has really been informative. Most of the terms are familiar to me, but I have two short answer questions that require me to memorize eight items for each one. For some reason memorization is not as easy for me as it once was. I can't imagine why--it's not that I'm older than I was when I was in college.
Thank you all for your encouragement concerning this blog. It has been good therapy for me, and I hope it can help others.
Today has been a rough one--I forgot my lunch duty, lost my temper fourth hour, had to take care of more of the business of getting the truck insurance taken care of, but I have it all checked off. If the copiers will work in the morning so that I can copy my tests easily, I'll be able to check off the rest of my to do list.
If anyone reading this has any experience that may help us with a problem, I would appreciate your advice. Here's the deal. Jason's truck was totaled. It was worth three times what he owed, so the insurance company is trying to get the title transferred so that they can pay us the remainder of the value. I don't want to hire an attorney. It would cost more than the truck is worth to straighten this out. I was the beneficiary on his bank account in Nebraska, but was not listed on his Bancfirst account here. I also was not listed on his title. I really don't know where to begin.

Grammar doesn't count here

OK, let's get this straight. I keep having people apologize for not writing correctly. I do not look at your grammar when I get a comment from you. Yesterday Janna wished she could spell check her comments. Today Allison and Carson's roommate sent an email, and he apologized for his writing. His note was so nice and kind--believe me I didn't notice that he had anything misspelled or any grammar errors. If you have a message you want to send me from your heart, your spelling, grammar, sentence structure means nothing. I have reread some of my posts and found typos and errors. I have tried to fix some of them, but I keep finding more.
Through the years I have had preachers who were intimidated by having an English teacher in their congregation. I always tell them, "If you have a message for me from God Almighty, I don't care if you use proper grammar--just give me the message."
Pray for clarity of thought for me for the next 24 hours. I have to finish making out two finals for my classes to take tomorrow, and I have to study for and take my midterm in my class tomorrow evening.

Waiting

Wait for the Lord. Be strong. Let your heart be strong, yes. Wait for the Lord. Psalm 27:14.

I sent Jason a little Bible Promise Book for Christmas. When Kami and Jake brought us his things, they gave me his Bible and that book and said they were on his bedside table. I hope he was reading them. I looked at the book last night because I was having a tough evening. The above verse was the only one that I could grasp ahold of. "Let not your heart be troubled" and other such verses don't speak to me at the moment. My heart is troubled. I KNOW all the verses of comfort; I just don't feel comforted.
I had graded all the papers that I had taken home--I now have a small hill of papers to grade along with two finals to make out and a midterm to take--all by Thursday. When I am busy at school, I can put everything in the back of my mind. When I am at home, it remains in front of me. Last night Tony and I went for our walk-the first one since Jason's death. It was such a shock to think that we are going on with our lives, but Jason is not.
My sister-in-law Cindy called late in the evening. We talked for over an hour. What a gift to have her. My sisters are both in heaven. If they were here, I would be talking to them daily, hourly, whatever I needed. My niece Janna has called often, and we talk--we both always have something to say--but my talk with Cindy was what I needed at the moment to get me through that hour before bed. Thanks to all of you who are willing to grieve with me. I know it is difficult, but what I have noticed. We will grieve for a while, then we will start remembering and telling stories and laughing. That is what we should be doing; I just need a reminder once in a while.

Reality

I don't know if there is a magical number of days, but it seems to me that reality has hit both Tony and me at the same time. We have been so busy that we haven't had time to think of how much everything has changed for us. I am trying to stay busy and get everything done so that I can turn in my grades on time. The problem is everytime I stop for a minute, I feel like I've been kicked in the gut. How can we face this world without Jason in it? I talk to my other kids, and I keep thinking I need to call Jason. I watch the weather to see what it is like in Nebraska. I see an ad in the paper for something that I think I should put back for Christmas for Jason. I don't want to hurt anymore, but each new day goes by and the hurt stays. It is like a weight on my chest. Everyone has been so nice to us, my students have been great, I even feel like the clerks in the stores treat me differently. Am I wearing a sign that says, "Please be nice to me." The kindness is sweet, but it is a constant reminder that my life is forever changed. I guess I'm ready for someone to be a jerk, so I can feel anger instead of grief. I went to the bank today, and all the ladies gave me that look--you know the one--here comes Debbie, Bless her Heart.

I'm grading a paper mountain today.

I have a paper mountain that I have to have graded and recorded this week. I was too tired last night to get out my trusty green pen, (red hurts the students' self esteem). Today I will begin to
tackle that task. Life does go on. I am reading a little book called Good Grief. It's the kind a funeral home might give out. I bought it years ago when Mamma or Phyllis died, I passed it on to a friend to give to her mother when her dad died. At some time last year she brought it back to me. I put it with the "pretty" books on the shelf above by desk and forgot about it. Yesterday I saw it again and began reading it. It begins with telling the grieving person to keep busy, don't just sit and think. Being busy helps physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I don't have to worry about that; I am a busy woman. Pray for Tony that he will find something to occupy his time other than football games. I know he loves them, but it can't be good for him to watch every game that is on.
I just have to get through this week and three days next week, and I will have Fall Break. I think I can, I think I can.

Another sleepless night

Last week I went to the doctor and got a prescription for a mild anti-anxiety medication to help me sleep. In my infinite wisdom I decided last night that I was tired enough after a long day at school and a trip to my class in Ada (I'm in the last third of a Reading Specialist Master's program), I was certain I would sleep. Guess what? I'm an idiot. Instead of following the advice of the doctor--the expert--I tried to go my own way. I don't have to tell you how many times I have done this in my life. I consider God's Word "the expert," but I don't always follow its advice--with disastrous results. Since I am using this blog as my quiet time, I have changed my reading passages to offer something pertinent for all of us.

Ephesians 1:3-6--again from The Message.

The Glory of God

How blessed is God! And what a blessing he is! He's the Father of our Master, Jesus Christ, and takes us to the high places of blessing in him. Long before he laid down earth's foundation, he had us in mind, had settled on us as the focus of his love, to be made whole and holy by his love. Long, long ago he decided to adopt us into his family through Jesus Christ. What pleasure he took in planning this!) He wanted us to enter into the celebration of his lavish gift-giving by the hand of his beloved Son.
Because of the sacrifice of the Messiah, his blood poured out on the altar of the Cross, we're a free people--free of penalties and punishments chalked up by all our misdeeds. And not just barely free, either. Abundantly free!

I once looked at people who lost a child and thought, "How are they able to still worship?" Now I know. I have joined a club no one wants to join, with people who never wanted to be there, sharing words, thoughts, and griefs that we all considered once to be unimaginable. I don't mean I go to a club. I might someday look for a support group or find a grief counselor to help me reconcile my past as a mother of three to my present as a mother of three--one of which has moved to heaven. Writing this blog for help will be cheaper, looking in scripture for comfort will be more solid advice than a human can offer, but talking to that expert may become necessary.

I want to live abundantly free. I don't want to carry this baggage that I am lugging around for the rest of my life. I want to experience the joy of people who have no membership in the club I have been thrown in. I am assured by members of the club who have reached out to me, Ruby, Mary, Anna Marie, and my cousin's friend in Tulsa that we will again see happy times in our family. We will have holidays, birthdays, graduations, weddings, births. All will be bittersweet because Jason won't be with us, but the joy of the occasion will carry us through. I remember thinking after my mom died that we would never have another happy event. The first year was tough--we wanted to ignore Christmas--but we had kids, and kids deserve a happy Christmas. My mother made sure we had one, so it was up to us to step up and do what was right for our families. This has happened time and again in our family. It seems that for four years in a row, another family member was missing. Begin praying for me now that Christmas this year will be a celebration of the birth of our Savior, that I will get out those Hallmark ornaments and place Jason's 33 on the tree with love and remembrance-not anger and bitterness.
Last week I went into the funeral home to check on some things. The people there shared with me the contrast between last week and the previous week when Jason was there. Last week was a family suffering through a murder-suicide, a twenty-eight year old man had shot his girlfriend and them himself. Unimaginable pain for the families involved. Hopelessness. How do you send flowers, offer condolences? The week Jason was there--the flowers would not quit coming. They were in the viewing room all down both halls, a constant stream of people signing the book, watching the video, and if one of us happened to be there, they were put at ease. We weren't going to fall apart. We were going to thank them for coming. We were able to do that because we knew that Jason was Abundantly Free.

God's Word

For the past year I have been doing my quiet time using The Message. I don't exclusively read it, but it has been interesting and fun to read the Bible in Contemporary Language. If you have one, read the first book of Psalms ; it will crack you up. I have had so many people tell me that they are following this blog every morning that I decided to make it a part of my quiet time. I was looking at Psalms when I flipped back a page too much and read an interesting passage in Job. Now don't get me wrong, I am not comparing myself to Job. I have experienced loss, but nothing like his. What I read said this:
I Babbled On About Things Far Beyond Me
Job 42:
I'm convinced. You can do anything and everything.
Nothing and no one can upset your plans.
You asked, "Who is this muddying the water
ignorantly confusing the issue, second-guessing my purpose.
I admit it. I was the one. I babbled on about things far beyond me
made small talk about wonders way over my head.
You told me. Listen, and let me do the talking.
Let me ask the questions. You give the answers.
I admit I once lived by rumors of you,
now I have it all firsthand--from my own eyes and ears
I'm sorry--forgive me. I'll never do that again. I promise!
I'll never again live on crusts of hearsay, crumbs of rumor.

I can't tell you the times I have "babbled on about things far beyond me" "made small talk about wonders way over my head" These past two weeks have shown God to me in a way that I have never seen him before. The line "now I have it all firsthand" is true beyond measure. I have done private and group Bible studies and thought I knew who God was, what I meant to Him, and what He meant to me, but now I have it all firsthand. Without fail He has given me strength when I needed it, comfort when I was in despair, placed someone in my path that has knowledge or talents that I needed at the very moment I needed them.
It started with making preparation for the service (notice I'm not able to call it that other word yet). We were looking for a large enough facility for his service, Jodi Roberts walked in and made a few calls to see if we could use the Church of Christ's new building. It was a fitting comfortable, beautiful place for such a large crowd. Kelli Kuhn came out as we were discussing the flowers. She and her friend at Bouquets of Blessings do beautiful, unusual arrangements. She brought a book back, we chose the flowers, and they put together a beautiful arrangement over a saddle.
My cousin, Carolyn, brought me a CD that her daughter recorded just to listen to for my own comfort. The song "The Promise" said just what I wanted the friends and family to hear from me. I could't talk to all of them, but I could give them my heartfelt message through Jamie's song.
I will be standing in front of a group of teenagers in a few hours. They are all going to be worried about their grades, their final, themselves. God is going to provide the strength and patience I need just when I need it. I don't want to get mad as their selfishness, hurt by their insensitivity, frustrated by their lack of interest in learning. I want to show strength and courage, kindness and compassion, love and respect. I want them to have the grade that is fair.

My phone rang just after 6 AM. It was my nephew Gary who calls often to tell me that he is thinking of me. He told me that Tony and I are the tribal elders, and the family is going to be looking up to us. Pray for me that I handle that responsibility the right way. God is moving among my family members. I am having visitors come with me to church that I have invited many times, but they wouldn't come. Jason's death has opened some eyes; I hope it can open some hearts.

Back to the grind

I went to the school today to see what I would be facing tomorrow. I am so thankful for my friends. Last week's substitute left graded papers, so all I have to do is enter grades. We will finish our first semester this Friday, so I only have two days of new instruction before we have to review for our final. Most of this week we'll be reviewing what we have already done. I'm not going to lie; I'm somewhat overwhelmed by the coming week. I have a midterm in the class I'm taking on Thursday, have to make out two semester tests for my classes and grade the papers that are waiting for me at school. That would be a lot for me under any circumstances; add to it my distracted state. I guess what I am saying is, "Keep Praying," for me and my students. From looking at the papers, some of them didn't make wise choices and didn't do all their work, so now I will have to deal with that. I want to be fair to them while holding them accountable too. This won't be fun.
I planted mums in my flowerbeds this evening. I don't know if they will have enough time to establish roots before the first freeze--I hope so. I'm not sure how I will react when they come back next summer. It will certainly be evidence of the time lapsed.
I think that lately I have been thinking he is just in Nebraska. I can't wrap my mind around the idea of Jason not being on this earth. Intellectually, I know he is gone; emotionally, I can't face the reality. We are almost finished with thank you notes. We are still waiting on death certificates to finalize his business. What will I do then? Part of me wants to get it over with-part of me does not want to "check the last box" on the to do list. I'm rambling and boring myself because I need to go to bed so that I will be rested in the morning. Pray that I will sleep soundly.

Two Weeks in Heaven

Is he still on tour? Is he alreading doing the work that God assigned him to do? Was he allowed to take a little time to get adjusted to his new home? He didn't need to heal from his injuries, rest from being tired, grieve that he had died, so what is he doing? I hope he and his grandad are spending time with some horses. They won't need the vet or vet supplies to care for sick or injured horses. Here their horses weren't always allowed to be horses. They couldn't ride them in the pasture--afraid they would step in a hole or something. So they rode them in arenas on prepared soil. I bet they don't have to worry about holes up there.
I slept until 6:00 this morning and only woke up once around 3:00. It was the longest I have slept in two weeks. That is typical of a normal night for me, so I thank all of you who have been praying for my sleep. It is working.
I have been thinking how much horses were a part of Jason's life from the time he was a little guy. I've told this story over the years, so if you've heard it, bear with me. Jason was five when Allison was born; in April before Allison was born in July, Pepper, his first horse, had a colt. We happened to be there when the colt was born and have pictures of all three of them in the pen. Pepper was a small pony, so Jason wasn't much taller than the new colt. I knew then that I was really going to have a special baby to compete with this new colt. Luckily Jason was a doting big brother from the first day. He was that way with Carson too seven years later. I have so many images of Jason, the big brother, playing with Allison and Carson when they were babies. He could always make them laugh. So many people have told me how much their children loved Jason--it was because when kids were around, Jason didn't ignore them. He played with them and ignored the adults.
Now for the story--when I was expecting Allison, Jason and I commuted from Wellston to Stroud. On the way home one afternoon, he said, "Mama, who are you bred to?" After I regained my composure, I said, "Well, Jason this baby will be a full brother or full sister to you."
Without pause he said, "Oh, Dad." His horse sense came early to him.

Go Pokes

Today was a long, busy day; tonight was a long, busy night. I am trying to do all the things I need to do to get back to school on Monday while also listening to OSU-Texas A&M. Wow. What a victory. It was a good thing I was busy because usually I kept Jason posted on the score. They didn't always get the game where he was. He loved his Cowboys and would have been waving joyously after each touchdown.
Again I have had several experiences today that made me feel that God sent me a messenger to ease my hurt.

• I previously wrote that Jason was wanting to open a store for Cowboys. One of the names he had tossed around was "Tack Shack." Tony and I went to eat in OKC at noon today, and a man walked in wearing an orange and black cap with "Tack Shack" printed on it. Wierd.
• I was working on the last 45 thank yous. You know the ones that I don't have current address for or can't read their writing. We really need to be working on penmanship. My sister-in-law called, said she went to Mass tonight, so she could do them in the morning for me. I didn't know how to make the address labels from the excel document, so I called my friend Cindy who has done this for me. She lives over an hour away, but she was in town tonight so she stopped byand fixed it for me.
• I was ready for bed, dreading the long sleepless night, checked my email, and had a precious note from one of the teachers I teach with.
• God is good.

I have to go back to the new normal

It's Saturday morning; I'm awake and making plans for the day, the rest of the weekend, and next week. I have to go back to school. Tony went back last Thursday, so he has already faced that giant. Unfortunately I have too much experience with going back to school the day after a loss. I work with a group of the most remarkable people, people who have helped me in ways that I didn't even know I needed help. The thing is, I teach teenagers, sweet ones and not-so-sweet ones. I'm not the least bit worried about the students I have in class. They will be kind and patient with me. It's the goofballs in the halls, the cafeteria, etc. that I am concerned with. I'm pretty certain one of them will do something to remind me that I am back in the real world. How will I react? Pray for me that I will handle all situations with dignity and respect toward the students, the staff, faculty and my administration. My feelings are tender--it doesn't take much for me to cry. I don't want to cry at school.
Next week is Homecoming Week, a fun, exciting week for the students. I certainly don't want to put a pall on the events. These students deserve a fun week--an opportunity to make memories.
When Jason was in high school, Sherri Peckham, Sue Stafford, and I were their class sponsors. I didn't join them until they were juniors, so I wasn't with them all four years, but those last two were a blast.
He graduated with the class known at "those sweet kids." They started school in kindergarten the year before the date for enteringing school changed from November to September, so they had small class-always. I can't explain it, but it makes sense that they had a small graduating class compared to the other classes in school. For football homecoming we built floats. We built them in the ag barn, but the only problem we had was getting them to the parade in one piece. Junior year homecoming was at the same time as the OKC fair, so only Keli, Stroud, and Cheri Westervelt and I showed up on the first day to build the base. That thing had more nails--long nails--than you would need to build a house. I think we finally had to call for help--can't remember. We made a giant toilet seat with a skirt that said "Flush the____________". The toilet fell apart on the way to the parade. It was one of my sweetest memories becaused we laughed so hard. We didn't win the float contest.
During their senior year Jon Davis helped us. He could create anything out of chicken wire, so we had a huge Tazmanian Devil that rotated. Everyone joined in to help that year, and the float made it all the way to the parade. That was a blast. Does anyone remember, did we win?
Basketball homecoming was an event. His junior year we built a huge octopus out of baloons. It was the funniest thing I have ever seen. As the band played "Under the Sea" We took the huge octopus out to the middle of the gym floor. It took nine people to set it up. Its head was a giant balloon with eyes attached. When we got it situated on the floor the way we wanted it, I backed away. His giant baloon head had been twisted when we had it stored in the room with the wrestling mats, so his head had to make a couple of spins around the room to get right. It slowly looked around to the rhythm of the music. We couldn't have made it do that if we wanted to. It was hilarious. I'm so fortunate to have been a part of Jason's friends in that way. The only time I was ready to kill them all was after the Senior Picnic. At that time the tradition was to have a picnic after graduation practice on the day of graduation. We went to practice, did well, went out to Tecumseh Lake and had a nice picnic, went well. The only problem was--we couldn't get them to leave. They were playing volleyball, and wouldn't stop. As moms Sherri, Sue, and I all had things to do and needed the party to be over, but it wouldn't end. I'm so glad they stayed and played--we all made it to graduation, everyone had on what they were supposed to wear, it all went great. I stressed for nothing.
Thank all of you who are praying for me. I can't put it into words, but I feel His touch on occasion-just when I need it.

It's all clear now.

For the past several years Jason has been drifting. Those of you who befriended him and allowed him to drift your way know what I am talking about. He left Stillwater; he then spent time in El Reno, Minco, Guthrie went back to Stillwater to finish his degree in May of 2006. He stayed with Glenn, Ashley, Todd and Cami and others before he called me one Saturday night in January 2007 and said that he was in Shawnee and would be coming out to spend the night and go to church with me the next day. I worried about him every moment until he came home. He stayed with us until he left for Nebraska last November.
Jason had an idea to put in a Cowboy Walmart in Oklahoma City. He had the location picked out, a solid proposal, and interested investors. Every time he would get close, something would happen that would stop it. Now I know why, and I thank God that we are not now having to deal with a new business in this economy along with the other business of his tragic death.
After so many roadblocks got the best of him, he decided he would go back to Nebraska to train horses. He had spent some time there the previous year and truthfully hadn't liked it very much. I asked him if he could be happy there, and he said he could because Jake and Kami were there now.
From all indications--my phone calls with him, what others have said to me, and the peace I have had with him being gone so far away--Jason was exactly where he needed to be for the past year.
While he was here, we reconnected as adults. I have always loved my children, but I think it is important in our adult relationships for us to like one another too. I like my childen. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, but I would rather spend time with my children and Tony than any other people in the world. While he was here, he went to church with me at Harrah Church, on Reno and Dobbs, if any of you would like to join me there now. We went to movies, walked at the track at school. I walked; Jason jogged. He got to know my friends and became a member of the Sunday School class I teach. It means so much to me now to be able to talk to my friends about him, and they know who I am talking about.
I can't put into words what that year means to me now. At the time he was staying here, his dad and I were worried about him, but we wanted him to be here for as long as it took for him to heal and find the direction he was meant to go. I'm very comfortable with his move to Nebraska. He has influenced hundreds of people in that area of Gordon/Rushville. We have received comments, cards, flowers, memorials--too many to mention from that area all saying the same thing. Our son was embraced by those people on the ranch and in the community. I will be forever grateful to them; they help make Jason's last year on this earth a fun one. The Krebs, Jake and Kami, the Delaneys especially took him and made him a part of their families. I would worry when we were having a holiday dinner here what Jason was doing there. I couldn't stand to think he was at a diner eating Thanksgiving Dinner, but he wasn't. Someone included him in their family. My parents always had "extras" at our family events. Linda Lake who was a friend of my sisters spent all holidays with us. Now we have a couple of Carson's friends who are a part of our holidays. I will continue to include people who are away from family in our special days--to honor Jason and to honor those in Nebraska who welcomed him.

Peace that Passeth Understanding

When I was a kid in church, we sang a song, may have been called "Down in my Heart." The last verse says "I've got the peace that passeth understanding down in my heart." I had no idea what that meant until now. It was just a tongue twister to us, and we would giggle because we couldn't sing it right. This week I know exactly what that means. I have tried to comfort grieving parents through the years, and I always thought, "I could not do that; I could not bury one of my children," but I did, and I am still standing, still living, still believing. Not one minutes goes by when I am unaware of Jason's continued existence. I don't feel the emptiness that I thought I would feel. Every time I have gotten low and fallen into that deep, black hole that tries to conquer me, someone makes a call, sends a comment, prays a prayer that tells me that God knows what I need, and he will use people in this world, my family and friends, to supply my needs. I thank each of them thus far for listening to the Holy Spirit and making contact with me.
I'm working on thank you notes. What a monumental task, but a healing one. Last week went by in a blur, and I am now reading the cards, looking at the food list, reading the flower cards. What an outpouring of love everyone has shown.
The most difficult part of this is signing the card. If you have a family, you have a family signature. Ours is always, Tony, Debbie, Jason, Allison, and Carson. I can't write that anymore without people thinking I am not facing reality. Well, I won't promise I will leave his name out, but don't worry about me. I know he is not here physically; he will always be a part of our family. We may just be The Humphreys from now on.

Pickled Okra?

I keep getting asked why my mom would make pickled okra for Jason's first meal in heaven.
My mom died in July 1996. Since that time Jason has been trying pickled okra to find some as good as Granny's. He kept telling me I needed to find her recipe and learn to pickle okra. What he didn't know was that my mother went to the garden each morning and cut the okra that was the perfect size. She might only make two or three jars at a time depending on how much she cut. I admire her for that, but that is not me. It may be someday, but not now. When I was helping my dad with his garden, I realized that he worked momma to death. She wouldn't let anything go to waste, and he expected me to do the same. We had some "discussions" about this to try to get Daddy to downsize his truckpatch. Unfortunately his health caused him to have to downsize. I hated that, but I was really tired of making jelly and freezing vegetables.
Now for Phyllis's fried chicken. Jason was sometimes brutally honest. My sister Phyllis could fry the best chicken of anyone in our family. Anytime I would fry chicken both before and after Phyllis's death, Jason would say, "It's good, not as good as Phyllis's, but good." What a sweet memory.

Sweet Sleep

I just wanted to tell everyone that I slept last night-not a long time--but long enough.

Sharing Jason

All week I have been reading from Jason's friends that we did a great job raising that boy. I wish we could take exclusive credit, but if you knew Jason when he was growing up, you know that it truly took a village to raise that boy into the man he would become.
His first baby sitters were Patty and Deanie Isaacs., daughter and mother. They kept him from the day he was six weeks old until we moved to Wellston when he was seventeen months old. They have continued to keep up with Jason. I have never seen Deanie and her husband Henry that they didn't ask, "How's our boy?"
Leaving him the first day was at the time the most difficult thing I had ever done. I still remember the feeling of "dropping him off" like he was something insignificant. I cried on my way to work, but I knew I had no choice. Tony was still in college, so I had to work. Every day I would go through their back door in the evening to pick him up, and someone in that house was paying attention to him. Never did I walk in and find him playing alone; he was sitting on the cabinet in the kitchen, a part of the family. As he grew and began learning things, they would show me what he could do. I have a couple of pretty clear memories of that experience. First, one day I picked Jason up and put him in the front seat beside me in his infant seat. This was before car seat laws; how did we drive down the road with a baby right next to us? Anyway Jason was about five or six months old at the time. I kept looking over at him, and he was doing something new with his mouth. I thought he had something in his mouth, so I stuck my finger in there to see what it was and found his first tooth. I know that Patty and Deanie knew it was there, but they let me find it. Deanie was a mother with a sensitivity for a mother. She knew I felt I was missing out and didn't want to hammer that point home by finding his tooth before I did. Another time I walked in, and I think it was Brenda, Patty's older sister, who was there; she had Jason sitting on the kitchen counter, by then he was about seven months old. She starting asking, "Jason, where's you eye? Where's, your hair?" I thought, "Yeah right, he's too young to know that." That baby pointed to everything she asked him about, eyes, hair, nose, mouth, chin.
I think they had worked on that all day. In that instance I wasn't sad that they had taught him that and I hadn't; I realized that he was blessed to have people in his life that taught him things that I didn't even think he was ready for.
Jason wanted to be where the action was. During his childhood he was not content to play quietly by himself as some do, he wanted to have someone over, go to someone's house to play, go somewhere, do something.
I have been thinking this week that we should have kept him closer to us when he was a child, but Jason was always going, doing, being with other people. After he finished playing little league baseball each summer, he would go to Gigi and Grandad's to "horse around" with Grandad. If we wanted to see him, we had to come here. We lived in Wellston, only about a thirty minute drive, so we packed up every week and spent the weekend in Tecumseh. My favorite pictures on the video we showed at his service were those when he was right in the middle of the action of working cattle. He was a happy boy.
During the school year he liked to spend time at my sister Phyllis's because she cooked wonderful meals and Marty and Monty were there to play with. I am learning now some of the things they did while they were there. His Uncle Fred taught him to care for his show pigs and included him on the work that had to be done. Smelly work, but Jason liked it.
After we moved to Tecumseh, he spent time with Sean Jeffcoat's family, again eating good meals and helping, I hope, with the things that needed to be done. He and all of his friends liked to stay the night at Todd Luster's. I never knew why until I had them in class. I asked the question, "Who has a mom that cooks breakfast every morning?" Todd was the only one who raised his hand. I then knew why those boys wanted to stay there. Alice was cooking a real breakfast--no cereal, poptarts--she "cooked" breakfast. I found that out at the end of his jr. year, so I started cooking breakfast every morning during his senior year. That lasted just a few weeks. I would cook something, leave it on the counter to be warmed up. After the new wore off for Jason and Allison, I would find a cereal bowl or evidence that they had gone to the donut shop, so I quit. Jason wasn't interested in the food; he liked sitting around a table, eating, talking, sharing.
In summers during high school, we spent time with Randy. Randy was hauling him to high school rodeos so that he could qualify for the National High School Finals that would take place in Shawnee. They worked horses and poor Cindy had to feed him then. I sure hope these people never send me a bill for the times they fed my kid. He moved to Marilyn Frantz's ranch to work both the summer before his senior year and the summer after. This was before cell phones, so it wasn't always easy to keep up with him, but he would call and tell me all that he had been doing and learning, and I couldn't miss him any longer. If you have raised a teenage boy, you know that they are going to be doing something..He was safer there working with Jack on the ranch than he would have been hanging out with friends and getting into trouble.
I want to take this opportunity to thank the friends, family, and teachers who made my boy who he was. So many people invested in Jason's life and made him into the man he became.
I'm sure his ag teachers, coaches, teachers, were ready to kill him sometimes, but they spent time teaching him. For that I am thankful.