Thursday, August 20, 2015

I am not afraid to die.

In May of 2002 John and I went on a cruise to the Bahamas and Key West.  Everything was running smoothly until I ate a conch fritter during dinner and ended up in anaphylactic shock.  It was severe.  In fact, I almost died.  

In the belly of the gigantic ship, I was attended to by the cruise doctor and nurses and they were able to stop the reaction, but it was close.  Very close.  

I learned a lot about myself in those few minutes hovering between life and death.  Standing on the cliff of death, I could see the vastness just beyond the edge.  Confident I was struggling to take in my final breaths, I made a startling realization. I am not afraid to die.  In fact, death seemed a respite from the struggle to receive air.  

I was afraid for John and my boys.  In 2002 my boys were just 7 and 11.  John traveled a great deal for his job as a commercial network engineer.  My ability to work from home had kept our lives grounded while John was away.  All I could think was, "How in the world will John make this work when I die?  What will happen to John and the boys?"  

The quick thinking doctor was able to stop the reaction and I was soon able to breathe again.  I was on antihistamines for quite a while and the rest of the trip was spent in a Benadryl haze with an extremely swollen face and neck.  

Strangely, it was one of the most spiritually rewarding experiences of my life.  I never really knew what I thought about dying until that night in the belly of the ship.  I am not afraid to die, although I will admit I am not so crazy about the pain that is associated with dying.  

In my novel series "Echo in the Veil", I explore death and grief. These are subjects most people don't want to talk about out loud, but do ponder deep within.  Pondering is a lovely way to search out what is in the heart.  Luke 2:19 says,  "But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart."  

Because of the assurance of my salvation, I did not and do not dread death.  Jesus took away the sting of death for those dying in Him.  However I do dread the grief that comes from losing someone I deeply love.  That side of the sting of death remains and causes a reaction far worse than any anaphylaxis.  

If you knew you were dying today, within the next few minutes, what would you do?  What would you think?  What would you pray? 

Take some time today to ponder your mortality. 

Monday, August 17, 2015

A life well lived

Last weekend a beloved friend of our family passed away at the grand age of 94.  He was tall, lean and gave great hugs.  A Colonel in the United States Army, he lived a life full of success, but also tragedy.  He outlived his first wife and his only son, but found love again later in life with one of my mother-in-law's best friends.  Since neither had any living family, our Smith family adopted them, you might say.  All major holidays and family celebrations have been spent with Dot and Ed right beside us. 

Ed was one of the "Greatest Generation," rare jewels in the nation's crown.  As this generation of men and women pass on, we are losing national treasures.  My Grandmother Nettie once said to me, "We don't grow them like that anymore."  She was right.  We don't. 

Last Wednesday we said a final goodbye to Ed's exhausted body.  He lived every ounce of life available in his soul's shell.  As we drove through Maple Hill Cemetery to Ed's burial plot, we read the grave markers.  John said, "Look at all the different last names."  I watched as the gray stones slowly passed by my window and thought, "Look at all the different lives, stories and families." 

The late morning sun shone warm on the mid-August day.  It was blazing hot the previous week, but on this day God smiled on us with cooler temperatures and a slight summer breeze.  One by one Ed's elderly friends made their way to the graveside tent.  Some came with canes and some with walkers, even one with a little chair on wheels, but they came.  

TAPS drifted through the air as a military musician gave tribute to our friend.  Soldiers quietly and with dignity folded the American flag that had been draped on Ed's casket. One soldier bowed on one knee in front of Dot, gently placing the perfectly folded fag in her frail, pale hands.  Looking into her eyes he said, "On behalf of the President, the United States Army, and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a token of appreciation for your loved one's honorable and faithful service." 

The lump in my throat grew large and the fat, juicy tears in my eyes balanced on my eyelashes making little prisms of colorful lights as as I tried to focus on Ed's gray metal casket.  

I had to keep my emotions under control because I was asked to sing solo and acapella  "God of our Fathers", our national hymn. The Pastor with his army haircut and black horned rimmed glasses said a few fitting words from the "Book of Common Worship".  He spoke of Ed's service and love of life.  We laughed a bit, cried a bit and felt a peaceful comfort settle all around the graveside.  The peace that passes all understanding is softer than any baby's blanket.    

At the end of the short service, I sang "Amazing Grace" and the Pastor said a prayer.  

Ed's life is over here on this earth. I am reminded of the statement my angel spoke to me in a dream after Angie slipped away from us.  "A life well lived is a sacred echo."  

Rest in peace, my friend.  We will enjoy your echo for many years to come.  

 



Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Expanding Soul Theory

When the sisters at Sacred Heart began teaching me the discipline of silence, I came to realize the process was simple, but the discipline was AWFUL! 

After months and moths of practice, I received an unexpected blessing from my discipline. Breathing in the silence allowed me to breath out my soul's noise.

Until that release, I had not realized how restricted my soul had become. Accustomed to the roar of my internal thoughts, I filtered everything else out. I heard, but did not hear.

Psalms 46:10 is a transformation scripture!  "Be still and know that I am God." has always been a favorite of mine, even before exploring what it actually meant.  Just reading the verse always brings a sense of calm to my mind.  
 
 "Be still" is pretty straight forward, but my soul had no clue what "and know" meant.
God never asks us to do something that will not benefit us.  He is a loving, caring God, therefore all His commands bring blessings to us. 

I call this post the "Expanding Soul Theory" because of what the silence has done for me. With the guidance of my Sisters, I looked at the call to be still as a pathway toward the blessings of knowing Him more fully.  With each deliberate attempt at silence, a blessing bubbles to the top of the silence.  With each new blessing, my soul's capacity to love, forgive, and extend grace expands!  God be praised! 

In the past, I have often found myself unable to forgive sins against me.  God will only extend me the amount of mercy that I extend to others, but this knowledge did not seem to get me where I needed to be.  I tend to be a difficult student. 

After months and months of intentionally being silent before the Lord, one day I realized I no longer held a grudge that I once held.  The internal noise of resentment gave way to the blessings of love, mercy, and forgiveness.  It was a miraculous revelation due to the amount of resentment I held.

I had not learned some new forgiveness trick.  No!  I became obedient to the call of being still and willingly allowed the silence to begin transforming me. 

Understand that He is not just asking you to be still for the sake of non-movement.  He is calling you to be still so that you can begin an internal release, allowing you to know Him more fully.  Breathing in silence ultimately grows you into a more Christ-like child of the King!  Your soul expands! 

Try going on a silent journey today.  Take just 5 minutes to be completely silent before the Lord.  Still your body and relax your mind, leaning in toward Him.  How?  Try this. 

Give God your intention to be still and silent by praying, "Lord I give you this 5 minutes to discipline my mind for silence." 

For 5 short minutes be still and silent.   Thoughts will come to you.  In the beginning of this journey, your mind may even fight this discipline.  Satan will say things to you such as, "You can't do this!  This is crazy!"  Our minds are noisy places and noisy places breed unGodly thoughts. 

Today, as a thought comes, acknowledge the thought and then let the thought pass through your mind, like the summer wind through an open window screen. 

Just breathe in the silence.  Let thoughts pass through your spiritual window screen.  Breathe. Relax. Repeat for at least five minutes. 

Again, the process is simple, but that does not make it easy.  Being still and quiet before the Lord is difficult, but the rewards are many. 

Give God 5 minutes a day for the rest of this week.  Don't give up, even though it is hard.   You will be rewarded. 



Tuesday, August 4, 2015

The Prayer Dominator

The Nunnery on the Island of Iona, Scotland


As a child, I received the blessing of a prayer habit.  It’s a gift I open often.   



I am an evangelical, church of Christ, daughter of the King, who is also an oblate* with the Catholic Sisters of Sacred Heart Monastery. 



Why is a girl like me hanging out at a monastery? 


The answer is quite simple. 



I’m listening. 



Up until a few years ago, I did not fully pray.  I talked, thanked, and on occasion begged.  In my prayer life, I was the person most people hate. I never shut up so someone else could speak.  I was The Prayer Dominator.  

While that might sound like a super hero of sorts, it is instead a serious spiritual flaw.  
For many years I didn’t even know I should listen.  I was ignorantly fulfilled with my chatty prayers. 


As a life-long believer in Jehovah God, I was spiritually illiterate conversing with the Creator I claim devotion. 



I was missing out on the divine when I chatted with my God, said, “Amen” and then quickly moved on with my day.



I have a beloved friend who wins the "Most Difficult to Communicate With" award.  All of our circle of friends know this.  If it were not so sad,  it would be almost comical.  When we converse, he never looks me in the eyes, he is always thinking about what he is going to say next, and even worse, he is prone to walk off in the middle of the so called conversation. 



Watching the back of his head as he saunters off, I feel frustration, irritation, and worst of all, I feel disrespected. 


A few years ago, I realized I had spent my entire life disrespecting God in the same way.  

We will dig deeper into prayer in the next few posts.  I hope you'll come back and join me.  

* An oblate is a person who joins hands with a particular monastery to become a faithful prayer warrior with them and a lifelong student of prayer.  Quite simply, an oblate offers themselves as a prayer sacrifice.