Conversations (Thoughts on love, humility, God, heart attacks and the I.C.U.)

The night of the heart attack...

I haven't cried like that in a long time. 

My heart ached. 

My cry was almost so deep that it sounded unfamiliar. 

I clutched his hand, stuck with I.V.'s.

I watched his vital signs on a black screen.

Daddy? 

It's gonna be okay, baby. It's gonna be okay.

Don't cry...

The next morning...

His eyes had more of their usual glow.

That green tint in his skin was gone.

He smiled. 

Hi Daddy...

.................

we had a moment when it was just him and I...

Daddy? 

Daddy... that house we're trying to sell... it's gonna sell... 

and everything is gonna be okay. And it doesn't matter anymore... nothing really matters... 

but we've got to get all of that stress out of your life Daddy...

And Daddy?

Yes, Honey?

Daddy? Me and God... we're gonna be okay. Tears.

I know it's been hard to see me go through this... where I questioned all that God is and all that I am for the past few years... 

But I'm gonna be okay... okay? 

And me and God.... we're gonna be okay... okay? 

I squeezed his hand.

I know, Baby. 

And Daddy... it's just so hard to talk to you about it Daddy...

I know, Baby. I know. Cause it's your journey... and only you know the aches in your heart. And only you know your questions.

Daddy? I'm sorry for any stress I've caused. 

Honey, it's okay. You didn't, Baby. 

I love you, Daddy. 

I love you, Honey.

I left his I.C.U. room thinking about his life. All the ways he's given himself so that we could have a beautiful life. He's practically built a home for us. Given so much so that we could adopt our boys. Drove to my house one morning at 6:00am to love on a crying and exasperated daughter who never knew being a Mommy would be so hard. He just gives. And gives. He doesn't want us to be rich. He just wants us to have time to be with each other. He doesn't want us to have a big house... just a place that we can love and be loved. And while I sat in the waiting room... overhearing the quiet sobs of the woman sitting next to me... I just wished he knew the love that I held in my heart. A love for him that mere words could not hold. 

Driving back from the hospital...

I can't help but think that God was in this... I could feel something sacred in the midst of this... but...

But if you say that God was in this... That your Dad is still alive because of God...then where is God when the heart attack is fatal? Or the car crash? Or the cancer? 

I know... that's just it. To say that Dad lived through a heart attack because "of God" sounds arrogant, or at least, ignorant, of the suffering and death of others. But I can't help but feel thankful. 

I know. Me too.

Do you think that there is an energy... an energy that runs throughout the earth calling us all to a realm that is beyond what we see and hear and feel? And that, instead of "God" sitting high up in the universe somewhere controlling all things, that the current and energy of God runs through this earth... and we have to wake up to see it? And hear it? And feel it? It's a gentle current, loving and inviting. But it does not control? 

I like those words... Reverend Peter uses those words...

Babe... just think about Reverend Peter. He just lost his daughter-in-law to a fatal car crash last week. And he stood up in front of the church that very next Sunday and said... "I have to believe... that God's heart was the first to break." 

So much better than words such as, "It's just God's will..." 

And in that way... I do think that the energy of God was there with my Dad. It was there when he ran into his friend a week ago who told him about taking aspirin when he had had a heart attack. It was there when the birthday party was scheduled for Monday, and caused my Mom to stay home from a trip up north. It was there in the speed of the Doctor's hands and minds. It was there when my Dad knew it was time to stop working. It was there when he had clarity of mind that this was serious. There were so many things that could have happened but didn't. And I really believe that many people and places and things all were aligned with this "energy of God." 

But sometimes it doesn't happen like that. Sometimes life is taken too soon. 

I know. Reminds me of the scene in the movie "Avatar" when they bring the woman to the tree of souls... and everyone gathers around in prayer. And she is wounded badly. And the "energy" of "Ewa" couldn't heal her. It was too late. The way things "are" ... in the physical world... couldn't be reversed. 

And God's heart breaks. 

Yeah...

And God's heart breaks. 

There was a breeze that filled the car as we drove. And a vivid feeling of thanks filled my mind. And it made my heart beat. 

And my Dad's too.  

When I remembered her... (For Melissa Bell)

So yesterday... after my selfish, complaining post... I opened up my email. And there was an email in there from a friend. And she reminded me quite beautifully (simply telling me that she was thinking of me on such a day) that it was the anniversary of a dear, dear friend's death. Melissa. It broke my heart. I hadn't even remembered! I didn't know what day it was... I was too stuck in my own world to open my eyes to see the Life that is really, REAL. So later that night... I drove off to that damn house we are trying to sell. It was late. I was all alone with my memories. And the rose bush.

My husband (boyfriend at the time) got a call 6 years ago from my mom. I was at a local college taking some summer classes and she knew that after class...I would drive to his house first. And I did. I was excited to show him my new hair cut. It was light and fluffy and so was I.

I should have known. The air in the room was tender and quiet. And when the time was right...

"Melissa passed away..."

Her fight with cancer was over.

I had seen her just 4 days before. She was beautiful. But her cough was relentless. We went to church and lunch together. And as we left each other that day...we made a plan to get together for a sleepover. She wrote, "sleepover with Melissa" on her little sticky note and handed it to me. She knew that her time was short. She loved much. She wanted to spend every waking moment with someone she loved. Her family, her friends. I still have it. That little sticky note.

He handed me a small rose bush that night... the night he told me she was gone. It had small, precious, yellow rose buds. And I drove off in my car to the beach ( I seem to do that quite often). I sat there as the waves crashed. And I looked up at the endless expanse above my head, holding the stars, holding the moon.

God???

 Last night, I sat again, under that great expanse, only this time next to the now larger-than-life rose bush.  I could see her beautiful face, I heard her laughing, ... I remembered her walk. Her voice. Her life. And that damn house we can't sell was transformed from the bane of my existence into a place of rest, joy and grace that night. Her rose bush is nestled among it's gardens.

http://www.melissameisenhelder.com/

Love and loss do that for the soul. They are our teachers. They tear down walls and break apart our stone cold selves. They destroy our ego. And send us running to God. All becomes trite in their presence. My yesterdays gloom jumped off that cliff. The sweetness of life came bellowing in. When I remembered her...

A most deepest apology...

For those of you reading this... to understand my apology... you need to read this. It's my friend's love story. She married a widower. And he was quite a bit older than she was. And he was a professor... at the college she (and I) went to. And now she's a mom of four.

This is them:  

And here is my apology:

Dear Friend,

We have become very close. You are a precious, kindred spirit… that I would consider to be one of my dearest. But I have to tell you something. Every time we talk about your love story… there is a pain in my heart. And I will tell you why.

I was one of those “nay-sayers”. I was one of those people who watched from the outside and kept my distance. I had my thoughts: that your love “wasn’t right”. You see… my god was very small. My world was black and white. And I had all the right answers. Your love didn’t line up. It didn’t fit into my box.   

We shared the same circle of friends at that college we both went to. And even though they had welcomed you into their hearts, I sat a far and judged. Oh sure, I’d smile. Oh sure… I’d say that you were “alright by me”. But the truth be told… I watched you through a cloud of judgement. A cloud of fear.

You see, if your love and your story were “good and right”, then my world wasn’t so easily figured out. My god wouldn’t have been so nice and neat. My faith wouldn’t have been so clear cut and strong.

What I found out over the past 3 years was that I couldn’t have been more wrong. When I opened up my heart just a bit to Love… it came in like a rushing wind. But it had so much to destroy in order to survive in there. It had to destroy judgement. Selfishness and ego. Fear. Small dreams. Easy answers.  Man-made boxes, locks and keys.

And for the past three years Love has been tearing at my heart. And it’s brought me to my knees. At times I was so afraid of all that I was loosing. I was afraid I was loosing my “rock solid faith”. But in the end… all I was loosing was a list. It was a set of beliefs. Something that kept me separate and "other" from so many. So much of what was inside was a counterfit for the real thing. But the real thing wouldn't let me go... and the real truth has been setting me free. 

And what do you know. I was given a second chance. To be your friend.

And let me tell you what I see.

I see Love.

It’s so real and right that it radiates from your home. And it follows you into the grocery store.

I watch as you pick up the phone and talk to him… and light beams. I watch as he stands on the outskirts at a wedding and smiles as you dance with your friends. I see not two… but “one”.

Oh, I know your love is not easy. And you have even let me in to see some of those hard places.

But your love mends them. And it’s even more wonderful and true and pure.

Gosh, I hope and pray that all of “us” come out of the cracks and carry to you our humble hearts and deepest apologies. I hope we say, “I’m sorry” for I am sure at times our unspoken and spoken words cut like a knife.

I thank God for a second chance. I thank God that I am able to witness the way you have come under Love’s shelter… and you used those keys that many of us used to lock you out… and you locked yourself in.

 Love.

So, my precious friend… I am so sorry. From the bottom of the bottom of my heart. And I love you.

And  I’m overwhelmed with thanks…

When I think…

I got a second chance.

Love, Jenny

Dear God... love, "missing you"

I've been missing you. I used to see you everywhere and in everything. I used to say, "You lead me to this." "You helped me do this." "You opened this door for me." "You had a plan in that." And now... I'm not so sure.

Don't you love the people in Africa? Wouldn't you want to give them water? And food? And a cure for their sickness?  They pray. But they die. And their children are left with no home. And how about the people here? How about the ones that pray and pray and their sickness is not healed? And they loose the one they love?

So I've stopped asking you to "give me this", "and lead me here". And I've stopped proclaiming, "You are so good... look what you've done in my life." Cause why should you give me a silly thing like a job, or provide someone to buy our home... when others die of hunger? And children raise children? And water is nowhere to be found? Or how about when one cries out for you... and they never feel your presence? It seems pretty "lofty" for me to think that you give me all these good things and yet withhold them from others. So I've stopped with all that "God-talk". All the, "God did this and God did that in my life". But something inside me yearns to fill that place... the place where all that talk took place... with something else. Something more. More depth. More faith. More humble talk. But I'm in the "in-between".

God, I want to be like my Grandmother. The woman is filled with so much love and joy... and most of all she trusts that You are still good.  And while she trusts that You are good... she aches when things go wrong. She doesn't just chalk it up to, "Oh... God must have a plan in this. He works all things together for the good." But her trust is more than that. It's more than easy answers. It's more than simply quoting Bible verses. It's something living-breathing. I think it's Love. No wonder her favorite words are: "Faith, Hope and Love. But the greatest of these is Love." 1 Cor. 13

And God...if the "Greatest of these is Love"... what does that mean about "being saved?" My "saved talk" has broken into bits too. But I think something else is slowly forming. Something with a kind of hope that you are REALLY into saving this whole world... from evil, from pride, hatred, injustice, sickness, poverty, and pain.  

I want a faith that can see the suffering of the world as a reality and a must for a world thats really free. Free to become. We aren't puppets on a string. We are free. The mountains are free. Plate tectonics are free. The winds are free. Matter is free.

God... was C.S. Lewis right when he said, "I sometimes wonder if we have ever begun to understand what is involved in the very concept of creation. If God will create, He will make something to be, and yet to be not himself. To be created is, in some sense, to be ejected or separated."? That makes sense to me. It makes sense of this crazy world. You actually LET IT BE. Let it become. Cause a free world was worth the risk to you. Love was worth the risk.

Yet, even though you let us "be" and let us "become" ... I have this deeper than gut feeling that you don't leave us alone. I think you are over us, above us, in us and through us. And you want us to ask you. And you want us to seek. And you want us to find. And most of all... you want to Love us. Love us into "being".

You are in the pain. In the hunger. But above it. But God... I can't see you right now the way I used to see you. I can't feel you right now the way I used to feel you. I can't hear you right now the way I used to hear you. And I miss you.

I miss driving off in my car and singing to the top of my lungs how I love you.

I have hope that I will again.
 Could it be soon?

And even though...

"I took off petal after petal, as if you were a rose,

In order to see your soul, and I didn’t see it.

However- everything around-

Horizons of fields and oceans-

Everything, even what was infinite,

Was filled with a perfume,

Immense and living."

-Juan Ramon Jimenez

I miss you.

Love, me.