Category Archives: Love

Remember the Details

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Yesterday was my little sister’s birthday. Gaynelle would have been 47 if she were still with us. It has been 42 years since she died. Such a long period of time has passed-almost half a century! Time is meaningless. For when a person is gone who was dearly loved, the love doesn’t go away with time. The pain from missing them fades but love and longing remain.

I don’t think of Gaynelle everyday as I did right after the accident but little things will remind me of her. Another child will have a blanket or scarf as she used to carry. A very blond little girl will bring back memories of her. Sometimes she just pops in my head out of nowhere and I will feel the familiar dull ache for her. I wish I could remember more of the everyday details. I don’t think I paid enough attention to all that she did when she was around. I was busy with high school and my part-time job at my dad’s airport. I never really imagined that there wouldn’t be another day to watch her and play with her. The expectation was that she would always be there, a little sister forever. But then suddenly, she was gone.

If this experience, has taught me anything, it is that life is fleeting. In one split second, my world was totally changed with all of my family. What was 5 was now 4. I don’t want  fear to turn me into one who worries at every turn what’s to happen next. Will there be other tragedies and suffering? The answer is yes. Absolutely. None of us is immune. Jesus pretty much assured it when he said, “In the world you will have trouble”. But he added, “Take heart, for I have overcome the world.”

When something bad does happen, I don’t want that experience to transform me into a worrier who doesn’t enjoy life. Instead, I want to pay attention more to the details, to take in every wonderful part of those I love and store them in my heart. Even if they are separated from me by distance or by death, they are still deep within me. Their every moment is a cherished memory to be brought out of storage and held again in joy.

I have these cherished memories with Gaynelle but I wish there were more. She was with us less than 5 years. So little time to fill me up with memories. But some people have their loved ones for a much briefer time. I think of a friend who lost her granddaughter shortly after birth. Her daughter and son-in-law only had their baby girl for a few days, not years. But they made memories in the short time they had together.

In remembering Gaynelle, I am reminded of how brief our time really is in this life. Even 70-80 years go by in a blink of an eye. Remember, remember to not take any moment for granted. Enjoy the little details-the smiles, the laughter, even the tears. I don’t know what tomorrow brings. I hope it brings many more cherished moments. But if it doesn’t, I will store all of them I have been given joyfully in my heart.

Love Never Fails

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imageYesterday the news was full of the violence in Dallas. Five police officers and 2 others in the crowd of demonstrators are dead and many others injured. The crowd was peacefully demonstrating against the shooting of 2 black men in Minnesota and Baton Rouge when the violence began. The shooter took aim above them all, particularly picking out white police officers to target. Later he was killed by a robotic bomb to stop his tirade.

Violence always begets violence. Violence never leads to peace-not real peace. Real peace is only achieved through forgiveness and reconciliation. When we seek to understand people who are different from ourselves rather than fear or hate them, this is the first step to peaceful existence.

I guess I am just strange because I have always enjoyed meeting people who were different from myself. I have learned so much from conversations with them. My private practice before starting with IU Health was very diverse. I had patients of every race, numerous faiths and people from all over the world: Black, White, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Chinese, Korean, Vietnamese, Filipino, Cambodian, Russian, Romanian, Nigerian, Liberian, Polish, French, English, Colombian, Haitian.  The list goes on and on. I had a number of patients from the LGTB community too. I wanted everyone to feel welcome and cared for regardless of color, culture or lifestyle.

Early in my practice, I mourned the death of 2 of these patients from HIV/AIDS. We didn’t know much in the late 80’s of how to control this disease. At that time, it was a death sentence for anyone who acquired it . Thank goodness, research has helped millions to live with the HIV virus now. I will never forget one of these patients, Roger, a gay, Black man, as he was dying from the complications of AIDS. He had such a kind, gentle spirit throughout tremendous suffering. At one time, he had sores over his whole body from the disease. His sister was his caregiver but he had never told her that he was gay or that he was HIV positive. I encouraged him to confide in her and he finally did shortly before he passed away. She told me one day outside of his hospital room that she had already sensed the truth. She said Roger always made her wear gloves and took great precautions when she changed the dressings on his wounds. He was always protective of her. Knowing the truth did not change how she felt for her brother. Love does not change, no matter the circumstance. My eyes tear up as I write this because it was beautiful to witness such love and courage.

People, love crosses all boundaries. When we take the time to look beyond externals, beyond skin color and labels, we see real people who are much like ourselves. We may not agree with each other on many issues but we can enjoy each other on our common ground, if we are willing. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. Love never fails. Love wins.

Be willing to reach out to someone who is different from yourself. Listen to them. Try to understand who they are. Agree to disagree in areas that can’t be reconciled. If each of us did this with even one or two people in our part of the world, the effect would be staggering.

None of us directly caused the shootings in Dallas, Minnesota or Baton Rouge. But each of us is accountable for the present culture of violence we live in. When we stay in our own comfortable group of people who are just like us, we promote division. This holds true for everyone: Black, White, Hispanic, every culture, creed and lifestyle. We all tend to stay in our own groups. We must purposefully cross racial and cultural lines. We must get to know each other in personal ways. This is the way love spreads, one person at a time, one relationship at a time.

This is my challenge and your challenge. This is my hope.

Fighting the Good Fight

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imageIt’s the day after the Central Indiana Komen Race for the Cure. I’m a bit sore. It didn’t help that my daughter Rozie, wanted to show me her office in the One America building before the race. The elevator would not let us off at the 22nd floor but took us up to the top. We tried to walk down from there but her ID badge didn’t work to let us out of the stairwell. Let me tell you, walking down 36 flights of stairs is a killer quad exercise-literally. After this we walked the 5K. My 57 year old body was not up for this. But we had great fun and I’m glad I did it.

I know that not everyone agrees with the mission of the Susan B Komen foundation. Believe me, I heard it as I tried to get donations for the race. But regardless of the fact that more money is spent fundraising than what is actually spent on cancer research, I would like to suggest that the Race for the Cure is about a much greater cause.

Most people see cancer as a physical fight for life. But it is even more, a spiritual battle of the mind and will. I’ve spend more than 30 years in the medical field and I’ve witnessed the warfare and walked beside those fighting the good fight more times than I can remember. It’s an honor to be allowed in this confidential space. I have listened to the fear and worry that couldn’t be expressed to family members. Most times, these were not concerns about themselves but for those they were leaving behind. The questions were out of love. “How will my granddaughter take my passing?” or “Who will care for my dogs when I am gone?” Even though they were suffering, their thoughts were always on how their loved ones were coping. Often they would agree to more treatment because their family wanted it, even when they knew in their heart that the fight was done. Over the years, I have learned more about how to live by walking with those who were dying.

So as I see it, the Komen Race for the Cure, is not really about raising money to fight cancer. It is an act of solidarity. There were many cancer survivors there yesterday but there were many more people who participated to simply to show their support. In essence, it was a statement to all those with cancer, “I will walk with you.” This is the strongest promise ever made to someone fighting the good fight. You are not alone, we are standing with you. When you are too weak to go on, we will hold you in our arms. This is an act of love.

For all my cancer patients, those who are survivors and those who have passed on to the next life free of sickness forever, this is for you.

 

 

Flight into Glory

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imageLast week was my Uncle Chuck’s birthday and my cousin, Mona posted an old photo of her dad on Facebook. He’s been gone now for several years and is greatly missed.  Chuck Scales was a man of strong character with a powerful presence.  He and my dad were classmates at Purdue University in Air Transportation Engineering.  I believe that it was my dad who introduced him to his younger sister, Gaynelle who was also attending Purdue.  They were married shortly after graduation, moved down to his hometown of Huntingburg Indiana and started their family. My 3 cousins, Brad, Mona and Sheryl, are the same age as my sister and I . Tragedy struck for our families when my Aunt Gaynelle died at the age of 32.  Chuck suddenly became a single father with 3 small children.  Fortunately, a wonderful, caring women came into his life to love him and his children.  Chuck and Diane were married and she helped him raise them as her own.

Chuck’s passion was flying. Both he and my dad became accomplished pilots and both of them managed airports as their careers.  I remember many flights down to the Huntingburg airport for their annual airshow every summer.  We had great times with our cousins during our visits exploring the woods behind their house, creating plays from books we had read and playing marathon Monopoly games for days. During one such visit,  Aunt Diane and Uncle Chuck were brave enough to take all five of us kids for a drive-in movie.  We all loaded into their station wagon with pillows and blankets piled in the back. Upon arriving the girls immediately needed to go to the restroom.  Uncle Chuck used to tell us that we were members of the TWBC: the Teeny Weeny Bladder Club.  I’m still a member of that organization to this day. At the time, however, I think we just wanted an excuse to go to the concession stand to view all the candy and snacks offered there. When we were back to the car and settled in for the movie to start, it didn’t take long for us to fall asleep cuddled up in the back together.  I imagine this was the whole point of going to the movie so we would wear ourselves out.  The adults had some quiet time to enjoy the movie in peace. These are good memories indeed!

The last time I saw my Uncle Chuck, he was at Indiana University Hospital in Indianapolis.  He had been diagnosed previously with prostate cancer and it had unfortunately spread to many sites. His doctor’s were suggesting another surgery to remove some of the cancer from his abdomen.  He knew that the surgery was not going to cure him and the doctors couldn’t guarantee that it would even prolong his life.  I remember sitting by his side on a foot stool and discussing the decision he had to make.  Many family members were in the room supporting him as much as they were able.  It was Independence Day and they all watched the fireworks together that night over the city.   He eventually made the decision not to have the surgery and went home to Huntingburg with my aunt Diane to care for him. It wasn’t long until he passed away. I was glad to have the opportunity to sit quietly with him that day by his bedside. It was a special moment that I will never forget.

Later my nephew, Nick gave my Aunt Diane a painting in honor of my uncle. It depicted an airplane, like the one he often flew, climbing up through the clouds.  The color of the sky was that of a sunrise with beautiful shades of oranges and purples.  It’s was an image of Chuck’s flight into glory. I’m sure my uncle would have seen this as a fitting tribute to a life well lived. <3

 

Going Through the Motions

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imageYesterday was a very good day at the Women of Faith Conference in Indianapolis:  good speakers and good music. Since I left there, I have Matthew West stuck in my head singing…”I don’t want to go through the motions, I don’t want to go one more day, without your all consuming passion inside of me. I don’t want to go through my life, asking what if  I had given everything, instead of going through the motions…” 

We often do go through the motions on a day to day basis: going to church on Sundays, Bible Study on Wednesdays, pot luck dinners, and committee meetings. None of these activities are bad in themselves but where is our passion for Jesus?  I was conversing with a friend of mine about this very topic this last week. My comment to him was “if only people would truly read the gospels, it would make such a difference.  If only they just read the gospel of Luke, they couldn’t help but fall in love with Jesus!”

This is passion:  when there is a fire burning within that cannot be put out.  It’s like our first love; we can’t help but talk about it with everyone.  They can see it on our face.  It overflows into everything we do.  And then our love becomes like Jesus’ love.  As the apostle Paul wrote in 1st Corinthians 13, “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”  This is not romantic love. It is sacrificial love lived out because of our deep passion for Jesus.  Paul didn’t write this in the middle of his letter to the early church in Corinth, Greece as an exhortation on love.  He wrote in response to those Christians “going through the motions” without love. They had numerous spiritual gifts and talents but Paul wanted to show them “a more excellent way” to live.  He basically was saying that we can speak, we can serve and we can move mountains for God but if we don’t do it with the intention of love, it is all worthless.  Going through religious motions without a passionate love for Jesus and each other is all for naught. And it gives us no joy.  This leads to burnt out Christians.  Service is done out of duty or to look good to the rest of the world.  We don’t fool anyone. The world knows authenticity when it sees it. 

Passion is contagious. It attracts others to it like insects are attracted to light.  When a person is passionate about their love of Jesus and lives this out by loving everyone around them, this gets people’s attention.  If this passion doesn’t burn out in a moment but lasts throughout a lifetime, they want to know this person’s secret. 

So what is the secret to sustained passion?  Matthew West tells us in his song.  It’s giving everything we are and everything we have to God.  Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind and all your strength. Everything. If Jesus is our first love then our passion for him will persist and everything else of importance in life will fall into place. I don’t want to go through the motions and wish at the end of my life that I had not held back but had given my everything to Jesus.

Lord, today revive my heart with a deep, fiery passion for you. Let me speak and write out of an overflow of love for you.  Otherwise I am like the resounding gong or clanging cymbal Paul wrote of in his letter to the Corinthians. Without your love burning in me, I am nothing at all.

Sanctuary

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The wildflowers I picked for our Open House this week-end are wilted this morning. They were so beautiful when I placed them in the vase on our dining room table.  They are bold and colorful yet delicate. Here today, gone tomorrow, fleeting beauty…

It was my son Garrett who convinced me to plant large patches of wildflowers in our yard to attract the bees and butterflies. I now have a small patch of milkweed to offer food for the  Monarchs but I haven’t seen any for years.  They have all but been driven away by the overuse of herbicides and pesticides on our farm fields. I understand why the farmers have used these chemicals to increase crop yields but if we destroy our pollinators, there will be no crops.  We must find ways to use less harmful chemicals and provide places of respite for the bees and butterflies.

Lady Bird Johnson understood the importance of the wildflower when she and actress, Helen Hayes founded the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center in Austin Texas in 1982.  It is a veritable sanctuary of native plants and natural landscapes, a place of respite for the pollinators and other wildlife.  We had the opportunity to visit there when my daughter, Rozie lived in Austin.  I would highly recommend a visit there to any lover of nature.  It is a paradise indeed.

Isn’t it interesting that the word “sanctuary” is used both as a name for a place of refuge for wildlife and also the name for a holy place of worship? Shouldn’t our churches be a place of refuge and respite, a safe place for seekers?  Yet in many instances, this is not the case. We pick and choose who can enter our “sanctuary” as if it is reserved for a few select people.  Jesus said, “Come all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”  The emphasis on all is mine but I think you get the picture.

We offer sanctuary to those we believe to be worthy.  If a person’s lifestyle doesn’t fit our definition, then they are excluded.  I am divorced and it has not been that long ago that I would have been excluded because of this.  Even today in many Catholic congregations, those who are divorced are excluded from taking Holy Communion.  Who are we to withhold the Body and Blood of Christ to those who seek to embrace Him?  Would my divorce be the path that God would choose for me to take? No.  It has brought much pain and suffering to all those involved.  However, through it there has been forgiveness and change of hearts that probably wouldn’t have happened otherwise.

As a divorcee, I am now accepted in the church but I see my friends who are gay being excluded from many congregations.  Why am I accepted and they are not?  Can we not see them for the beautiful children of God that they are?  Not one of us stands before God pure and holy.  Then how can we judge the behavior of one and not another?  It is hypocritical.

Our churches should be sanctuaries dedicated to be places of refuge and respite for everyone.  Many of our churches are but it’s difficult to see them.  We must purposefully plant patches of wildflowers, so to speak, to attract seekers from every walk of life to join us.  Otherwise we will find ourselves alone, inwardly focused only. Jesus, who we claim to be our refuge and savior, was never meant to be withheld for a select few, but offered to everyone.

 

Becoming Real

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When I was just a young girl, I remember going to visit my great, great grandmother, Anna Peterson.  She had just turned 103 years old and many family members gathered to celebrate at my great Aunt Mena and Uncle Augie’s home in Marion, Indiana. She was very frail. As she sat in her wheel chair, she reached out to touch my face.  Her vision and hearing were both very poor.  She recognized me by touch, not sight and she called me by name.  Her senses were impaired but her mind was still sharp. I’ve often pondered after seeing Grandma Peterson through my child’s eyes, whether I would want to live to be 103 as she had.  But the impression she left on me was great.  She knew who I was without the benefit of her senses.  I was her oldest great, great grandchild and she valued me. I could feel it in her touch, gentle and kind.

When we are valued and we know it, we are changed forever. The late writer, Maya Angelou once said, “I have learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Oh, how true!  What a difference it makes when a person makes you feel valued. It’s not what the other person said or did but the way in which they did it.  It’s the warm smile, the attentive look, the light touch of their hand that convey that they care deeply. Their authenticity is not contrived but real. Unfortunately in the world we live in, this type of authentic caring is a rare commodity.  In a self-oriented culture, it actually is surprising to see selfless acts any more.  How have we wandered so far from real, genuine caring for each other?

One of my absolute favorite children’s books is, “The Velveteen Rabbit.”  I don’t think I have ever finished reading that book aloud without getting teary eyed. The little stuffed rabbit loved the boy so much that his fur was rubbed off and the shine of his eyes was dulled.  When the boy recovered from his illness, the dear rabbit was thrown in the fire with other items from his room.  As all appeared lost, suddenly the toy rabbit was turned into a living rabbit with soft fur and a wiggly nose.  His deep love, though it made him ragged, also made him “real”.

I believe the Velveteen Rabbit was real long before he became a living rabbit.  We become real when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable. Authenticity forces us to let down our facade and stop worrying about our rights.  “We” becomes more important than “me”. Time is spent connecting with others and in relationship.  We put down our smart phones and really communicate with each other. Success is not measured by power, prestige or possessions but by the depth of our commitment and faithfulness to others.

The greatest example of what it means to be “real” was Jesus.  He valued people over everything else and those he touched knew it.  He had no power, prestige or possessions that would give Him worldly success.  The devil tempted Him with these earthly valuables in the wilderness but He turned him away.  Jesus’ eyes saw true value in people, not things.  He had compassion for the widows. He loved on babies.  He touched people that everyone else shunned.  These were His treasures.

After Jesus’ death, Mary Magdalene and some other women came to the tomb the day after Passover to anoint His body. The stone was rolled away and His body was not there. Jesus appeared to Mary by the tomb but through her tears, she did not recognize Him but thought He was the gardener.  Only when He spoke her name, did she recognize Him.  I can only imagine the loving way Jesus spoke her name. The gentleness of His voice was music to her ears. Her Lord and Master had returned!

We become real by imitating Christ.  As we value people as He valued them, little by little, we come to resemble Him. It can be a long process and sometimes painful. The skin horse explains how it happens to the Velveteen Rabbit.

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes.”  For he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.:

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up, or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once. You become.  It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or who have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.”

“But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

 

“The Velveteen Rabbit” by Margery Williams (1880-1944)

 

Leaving Room in My Garden

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One of the things I love best about spring is the opportunity to eat breakfast out in my back flower garden.  It’s still cool early in the morning before my day starts but the days are longer so the sun is up.  The birds are back and their singing is music to my ears . They love this time of day!

My garden is wild and rambling.  It’s often difficult to keep it under control. I have wildflowers planted within the same beds as the perennials. Many of the plants I have would like to takeover and push out the others. I have one big leafed plant given to me by my uncle Richard that I believe is hyssop.  I fight with it constantly. Every year now I cut the tops off before these plants bloom to prevent them from spreading further. The roots are too deep to dig out completely.

Anymore, I find that rather than pulling out weeds, I am thinning out these  invasive perennials. Some like the Hyssop, I wish I had never allowed in my garden in the first place. If left alone, this one plant would dominate my whole flower bed and I would have nothing else to enjoy. This would be very boring indeed.  So I pull out what some would call “good” so I can have a beautiful, varied garden that has different blooming plants all summer. It’s a constant job but well worth the effort.

I could apply this same principle to my life. Often I’m pulling up what appears to be “good” to have “better.”  What does it take to not let one good thing invade my whole being?  It takes partially uprooting my old life to move on to better.

On May 1st it was the one year anniversary of my new job with IU Health and it’s been a satisfying year.  I was literally pushed out of my old job by an intolerable situation and extreme stress.  The harder I worked to make it right, the worse it became.  God opened a door, giving me the opportunity to leave for a position still practicing medicine but for fewer hours and at a much more relaxed pace.

A year ago, I walked through that door and had to decide what to do with the extra time I suddenly had before me.  I had been so overwhelmed with medical work that I literally had to force other activities into my schedule. I was exhausted all the time and not worth much to myself or others.  It was painful to leave my old patients since many of them had become like family to me. I know they must have felt the loss as much as I did.  But I had come to a time that it was necessary to pull up the good to have a better life. Nothing was inherently bad about what I was doing previously. I don’t regret my past work but it became too much of the same thing. It crowded out other parts of me that needed to bloom.

Since that time, I have been able to read more and develop my passion for writing.  I’ve had more time to spend with others and deepen those relationships.  I have space to add activities that would have been impossible to fit in before. I can be tempted to fill in this extra space with one activity after another and end up in the same place I was a year ago. If I say yes to everything, then I will be on the go all the time and not have space for quiet.

Everyone needs quiet space away from the noise and busyness of everyday life.  Even Jesus did.  He often retreated to a quiet place to pray.  My garden is that quiet place.  But even here, it can be difficult to quiet the mind.  I need to just listen for a while without thinking of everything else that needs to be done.  I need to leave space for Jesus. He desires a relationship much more than works.  I can go, go , go, doing and saying the right things but it I don’t spend time building a relationship with Jesus then I have missed the whole point.

It’s much like the situation of Mary and Martha in the Bible.  Both of them were deeply loved by Jesus and they each loved Him too.  But Martha was caught up in “doing.”  Mary knew how to just “be” with Jesus. She chose the better thing.  I need to cultivate “being” with Him in my garden. My life is much more conducive to quiet time now.  But I have to learn how to shut off my mind from having a constant banter of thoughts.  I pray for Jesus to help me learn the art of quietness of spirit so I can know Him intimately as He desires to be known.

 

Love Never Fails

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We recently returned from a fun-filled, busy week-end celebration of the marriage of my daughter, Rozie and her husband, Marcus in Las Vegas. The actual ceremony was held in the historic Graceland Chapel in the old section of town and included an appearance by “Elvis.”  Amongst the laughter and fun, I was thankful that the minister officiating the vows discussed the seriousness of making the choice to love day in and day out and included a reading from 1st Corinthians 13: The Love Chapter.  From personal experience, I know that it is difficult to keep love alive over the long haul. But if God is placed at the forefront of a marriage right from the beginning, the marriage will be stronger and have a better chance of survival. King Solomon wrote in the book of Ecclesiastes that a cord of 3 strands is not easily broken.  When God is intertwined in the relationship of 2 people, their love becomes a mighty cord that will stand the test of time. I pray for Rozie and Marcus, as they move forward together in their lives, that they recognize the Holy in their midst and depend on Him to guide them every day. I know my prayers will be joined with those of other family members and friends to lift them up daily to the Lord.

Las Vegas was quite a backdrop for the events of the week-end behind me.  I am struck by the contrasts in this city of glitter.  The sparkling lights can be intoxicating.  Everything in Vegas is “over the top.”  I loved the beauty of the botanical gardens and the fountains at the Belaggio.  The beaming light from the pyramid at the Luxor is claimed to be able to be seen up in space! The grace of the nimble acrobats of Cirque de Soleil was a sight to see.  Wow!

I met so many wonderful people during our stay. People have settled in Vegas from all over the world, serving those that come here to vacation. Our photographer was from Poland.  Her energy and enthusiasm were amazing. The sweet lady at the front desk of our hotel had lived in Kokomo Indiana at one time when her dad was based at Grissom Air Force Base. I was thankful for the sense of welcome they gave to each one of us.

But it’s sad to see the shear number of people trying their luck in the casinos in every hotel. You can’t go anywhere without passing through them. There are even slot machines at the airport. A group of young men on our plane played cards the whole flight to Vegas practicing their skills for the tables. It doesn’t take much insight to realize that the house wins the great majority of the time or Las Vegas would not exist. Hopefully they did not lose more than they could afford but unfortunately many people do.

My heart went out to the middle aged Latino women handing out cards on the street for “escort” services to whomever would take one. I wondered if they even were aware of what the cards said. Were they that desperate for money to promote prostitution in this way or were they forced into this lifestyle by circumstances beyond their control? Interspersed with them on the sidewalks were costumed characters vying for customers to take their pictures for cash. Darth Vader, Wonder Woman and numerous Minions worked the crowds giving the streets a carnival like atmosphere.

On a busy street corner, a man with a megaphone shouted out warnings of judgement to anyone who would listen as people rushed by.  Yes, Jesus did come to save us from our sin but I have yet to see someone respond to this Good News by words of condemnation. Where are the acts of kindness? Where is love that bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things? This is the love of Jesus that never fails. I have heard it said before that Christians are the best case for and against Christianity. We often are the noisy megaphone that everyone ignores because we don’t live out His unfailing love in our day to day lives. But I admit, I don’t know this man’s life. I hope with all my heart that he witnesses with a life of love, not just his megaphone.

I can speak of love with my newlyweds but If I don’t live it then I too am nothing but worthless noise. The best encouragement I can give to Rozie and Marcus is to be loving to them and to everyone around me. I can’t talk to them about marriage unless I am an example of compassion and forgiveness myself. Respecting my husband and cherishing him as my very best friend and companion, is the best wedding gift I can present to them this day and all the rest of my life. A strong strand of 3 cords in a marriage is an everlasting witness of the Grace and power of Jesus now and forever.

In Las Vegas, all that glitters is not gold. What appears beautiful, can sometimes be ugly inside. What words would I offer to the people of Las Vegas if I was handed a megaphone?  I would tell them that our God is a God of second chances. First and foremost, He loves and forgives us. Yet, there is sin and it touches us all.  But Jesus offers us a life with Him where there is no more sin, no more tears and no more death.  Human love is imperfect and will disappoint us always but Jesus gives us love that never fails.

Mary Did You Know?

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Easter is coming but first comes the cross.  The celebration of Jesus’ resurrection brings joy and hope that is only significant in view of the crucifixion. I can’t imagine the rollercoaster of emotions experienced by the followers of Jesus the short week between Palm Sunday and Easter morning: joy, fear, devastation, disbelief, and back to joy mixed with wonder after the resurrection.  My heart goes out to Jesus’ mother, Mary and what she must have felt during this horrific time. When she said yes to the  message delivered by the angel Gabriel as a young girl of only 14, I’m sure she had no idea what lay ahead. The gossip had to be biting when she was found to be pregnant and unmarried.  Thank goodness Joseph listened to the angel in his dream who told him that the baby Mary carried was God’s son. He took Mary as his wife and thus took on the role of earthly father to Jesus.  Joseph protected Jesus and Mary by leaving for Egypt when they were threatened by King Herod.  When they settled back in Nazareth after Herod’s death, perhaps Mary thought things would then be peaceful.  Maybe they were for a time as Jesus grew into a man.  But Mary had been warned of times ahead by Simeon as he held the 8 day old Jesus in his arms at the Temple in Jerusalem when he was consecrated.  In Simeon’s prophesy he told Mary, “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.” I wonder if his words came back to Mary as she watched her son beaten and bloody carrying his cross through Jerusalem.  According to biblical accounts, when they nailed Jesus to the cross, Mary was there with the disciple John and Mary Magdalene.  Did she reach up to touch his feet as he hung there?  Did she hold his limp body when he was taken down from the cross?  These were the same feet she had washed, the same body she had held in her arms hundreds of times.  Her heart was certainly pierced that day. She would not understand why this had to happen for 3 long days until the light of Easter morning when the risen Jesus appeared. The hearts of the disciples would have ached for Jesus but the bond between a mother and her child is much deeper.

This bond begins long before a baby’s actual birth.  Most mom’s would attest to this.  For 9 months, this growing life resides within us.  I remember thinking it odd once each of my children was born, not feeling their movement inside me any longer.  It was uncomfortable at times when I would have kicks into my ribs but it was something I grew to love. Birth was like an unveiling of the little person I already held in my heart.  When I was pregnant with my oldest child, Anna, I spent the last 3 months at the VA in Indianapolis as a 3rd year medical student.  I had visions that I would be able to schedule easy rotations at the end of my pregnancy, but this was not to be.  Anna spent every 3rd night with me at the hospital on call. It was pretty crazy but I made it through.  When Anna decided to come a little early, she surprised all of us. My med school friends had planned a baby shower the day she delivered and we had to postpone it. That night Anna and I were alone together for the first time since she was born. Her eyes were open and alert. I drew my knees up as I sat on the bed and placed her there so we could see each other.  I pondered the beauty of this blue eyed, ash blond miracle looking up at me.  I knew then that I would do anything to protect her and would love her no matter what.  Even though each one of my three children is different, the feelings I have for them are the same. By her actions, Mary showed that she also held these same, deep feelings for her son.

The maternal instinct in Mary would have wanted to protect and save Jesus from the suffering he endured.  She suffered in agony with him as he hung on the cross.  She knew as no one else that Jesus was the Son of God but neither she nor his disciples grasped the magnitude of his true mission. Mary couldn’t keep him from the cross because he chose to be there. She couldn’t save him from suffering but he came to save her for eternity.  No one would have felt the joy Mary felt as she beheld her son alive that first Easter morn.  She was the mother of the Savior of the World. What greater responsibility or joy could there be? How could Mary have known the consequences of her choice to accept Gabriel’s words and say yes to God?  She was just an ordinary small town girl singled out for this special role.  She suffered greatly for her choice.  In the long run, making the choice to love deeply, necessitates risking everything. Oftentimes pain is the price paid.  Anyone who has lost someone they loved dearly, knows this pain.  But remember, on the cross, Jesus showed us what it means to risk it all for love. In his eyes, it was worth the price paid to save us all for eternity.