Count Your Blessings

On the Monday after Joel's accident, I realized I'd better start "counting my blessings" to feed gratefulness and faith in my spirit.  As of this morning, I have recorded over 400 separate items for which I am truly grateful.  Reading them helps me remember that "no temptation (or trial) has overtaken you that is not common to man.  God is faithful and He will not let you be tempted beyond your strength, but with the temptation will also provide a way of escape, that you may be able to endure it." (1 Cor. 10:13)  I read somewhere that the new translation of the Lord's Prayer, "Save us from the time of trial" instead of "Lead us not into temptation," points out that the Greek for "temptation" is more along the lines of being tempted to doubt God because of the trials in our lives.  That clarifies the above verse for me; it's not a temptation to sin as in doing bad things, but a temptation to sin as in doubting God's goodness, power or love.  So here are some of the things, specific to our situation, that have helped me to "endure:"

Many entries - Facebook, Caring Bridge, and every phone call, text, letter, card, gift, email, post and visit

#3 & #4 - My job isn't an issue; Svea covered the music

#6 - Sunshine pouring in our hospital room window in the mornings

#10 - Pete's knee is so much better than it was even a week ago

#11 - Philip is 12; the kids are all self-sufficient in many ways

#12 - It's summer; we don't have to worry about snow and ice

#13 - First Responder Matt Erickson's testimony - "the most peaceful call I've ever been on"

#23 - Wonderfully caring and competent staff at HCMC

#32-35 - Sister Julie and husband Dave live close, Dave isn't teaching this summer, and they are very willing to help

#36 - People have stuffed our fridge at home with food

#47 - Great sermon on prayer at First Covenant across the street

#50 - Sisters Mary and Julie have kept me supplied with healthy food

#93 - Fleece blankets from two sets of girls - essential in the cold hospital room

#110 - YMCA in Minneapolis and New Hope allow me to use the facilities with my Willmar Y card

#180-182 - when the van alternator broke down, Pete was able to get it to the repair shop without towing

#234 - Pete was here when Joel got moved to Regency

#242 - Jesus Calling book

#247 - Joel's so patient with poor lip readers

#263 - Daniel (and friends) and Grandma & Grandpa Norling came to be with Joel so I could go home and to Sioux Falls

#300 - Great hospitality from various people in the Cities

#332 - It's summer; I'm not homeschooling

I've also enjoyed eating out at various restaurants, especially downtown.  

When I can focus on what's good, positive and helpful, my attitude remains good, positive and helpful.  Lord, help me continue to do so - Amen!

Give Thanks

I'm reading "One Thousand Gifts" by Anne Voskamp.  When her little sister died at age 6, it shut her family down and destroyed their faith in God.  She developed a critical, glass-is-half-empty attitude which colored her existence until her brother-in-law, who lost two toddlers to a genetic disease, pointed her to another possible perspective.  A friend dared her to compile a list of one thousand gifts from God, and eventually she wrote this book.  "Could it be that giving thanks is the key to a life of joy, that being grateful for what I have is possible and productive?"  (my paraphrase)

My recent struggles mirror hers to a lesser degree.  Since my last Silent Retreat (over two years ago!), when I accepted the challenge to "count my blessings," I've faithfully recorded ten blessings almost every morning.  But the rest of the day, I generally focus on what's wrong with my life, my family and my self.  Voskamp writes, "Could I live that - the choice to open the hands to freely receive whatever God gives?  If I don't I am still making a choice.  The choice not to."  Can I give thanks for the life I have now, the family I have now, the self I am now?  Even though some of it results from my own sin or mistakes or bad choices?  Lord, grant me the grace (charis) to give thanks (eucharistio).  And to finish this book!

Blessings in the Midst of Trials

Lori was buried today.  On March 21, the thirteenth anniversary of my mother's death, the sister of my college roommate breathed her last and went to be with the Lord.  Last night and today, hundreds of people gathered at the funeral home and her church to remember her life, cry for their loss, and support the family.   I was privileged to play the (wonderful grand) piano for the service; it was an honor not only to serve the family and congregation, but also to work with the talented and experienced singers and string players, and to praise the Lord with "Amazing Grace," "It is Well with my Soul," "Blessings" and "Revelation Song."  The personal tributes and the sermon inspired us all to emulate Lori's joy, peace and love.   She knew Jesus Christ in a very real way, and her life reflected His Spirit in her work, play and relationships before her diagnosis, and in her trust and hope through the last five months of illness and decline.

Reflecting on the many small blessings in the midst of this very big trial, several of Lori's relatives and friends, as well as her pastor, declared their confidence that God was present and at work throughout.  From Shelley's ability to quit her job and come three or four days every week to care for her sister, to the timing of Lori's last breath - just days after her husband took a leave of absence from work, and with every member of her family plus friends able to be present - to myriads of little circumstances, they could see the Lord's love and grace in the midst of trouble.

The parallel to a loving parent training a child came to my mind.  There are many "big trials" we have to put our children through - from weaning to walking to driving to leaving the nest, and dozens more.  Sometimes they want to go through the troubles to get to the prize, but often they don't and we have to use some measure of discipline, force or discomfort to get the job done.  When we're good parents, we reassure the children that we are with them - physically and/or emotionally - as they go through the necessary hardships.  But they have to go through them.   These thoughts comfort me when I think about my mother's death; perhaps they comfort others too.

Lessons from Frankenpastor

The dinner theater has come and gone.  Frankenpastor was a great success; as usual, the Body of Christ at Svea worked together with precision and style to bless the audience for three stellar performances.  In the plot of the musical, the frustrated Loon County Lutheran call committee asks the mad scientist who's renting their basement to build a pastor for them (a la Frankenstein).  When the synod sends investigators to figure out why the church pays its benevolences without a pastor "to guilt them into it," they request a bride for Frankenpastor in an attempt to display "a more complete domestic lifestyle."  Mayhem, romance and the message of God's grace as an agent for change ensue.

Half the cast came down with the flu during the last week of rehearsals and the performances.  "The show must go on!" we declared, and they rose to the challenge.  One of the leading senior guys felt horrible for the last two days, but delivered flawless performances and fantastic energy.

I wondered what the ladies would come up with for decorations - monsters?  Instead, they called upon members who work at a clinic and a research facility, set up test tubes and beakers everywhere, and turned our church basement into a mad scientist's lab.  The servers wore lab coats and had mad scientist hair.  So cool!  It goes without saying that Lois excelled at the set, costumes and props, and that the parents cooked and served a delicious meal.

Every year the second-to-the-last week of rehearsals elicits groans, misery and despair.  The cast thinks the play stinks; they hate the director(s), and they're sick of each other.  Every year the director wonders if this will be the year that marks the end of the Svea dinner theaters.  Then the set goes up, usually the Sunday before Opening Night.  A burst of energy surges forth; people feverishly finish memorizing; we stop picking at every little detail and go through the entire play at each rehearsal; and everyone loves each other once more.   I'm happy to report this happened again this year.  Remember that for next time!

An Easter Blessing

We're hosting my sister's six kids for a couple of days while she and her husband are at a wedding in South Carolina (90 degrees there yesterday). To celebrate Easter and serve, Pete wanted us to go caroling in a nursing home - the residents get so much traffic and attention at Christmas time, but very little, we were guessing, for Easter. When he called, the gal suggested we come on Saturday instead, and sing in a gathering room where they have coffee from 2-3. Pete figured we could pick up the Jones kids at my brother's at 1:15, then head to the nursing home - perfect timing.

I was not too excited for several reasons: I still have no voice; we had two services, a church Easter breakfast and a family Easter dinner to prepare for; we didn't know what, if any, of "our" songs the Jones kids also know. But since I can't talk, I had time to think it over, and decided not to "say" anything. I figured I could do the necessary shopping while they were in the nursing home (since I couldn't really help), so I wouldn't lose any time.

When we got there, Pete wanted me to come in, possibly to play the piano or generally be another adult presence. The residents thoroughly enjoyed the six or eight songs they sang, especially "Amazing Grace", which they knew, and "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," requested by Abigail, age 3, who sang it enthusiastically. Pete & the 3 older boys sang "Beneath the Cross of Jesus," beautifully, as they had done Good Friday at church. Afterward, Pete had prepared the children to go around, shake hands and introduce themselves. Here, Abigail was the star of the show. I held her hand and we went around to each lady there (there were no men). As they cooed over her cuteness, she shook each hand, smiled and announced, "My name is Abi and I'm 3 and I play with REAL toys." We were the last ones out, waving and calling, "Bye!"

Despite my negative attitude beforehand, that event blessed me as well as everyone there. Thank You, Lord!