Elevator, going up?

I don't know why they decided to take the elevator, but they did.  Probably for the same reason people climb mountains and write songs. The Spirit moved them in that direction and they went with it.  

I don't know why it jammed after moving upwards only a few feet.  Perhaps the elevator was faulty. Perhaps they were too "active" in the elevator car.  Perhaps it just happened out of dumb luck.  Perhaps God had some lessons to teach us, and used this elevator for that purpose.  

Let me start by saying that I am fully aware of how much my Harriett hates small enclosed spaces.  I know how she gets panicky when the walls appear to close in on her, and I can only imagine the horror in her soul when she realized that the elevator was no longer moving, and that she may, in fact, be trapped in that metal box with her sister and her best friends, for an indefinite period of time.  They started screaming immediately after the elevator stopped, and their friend and hero, Kathy, was on the other side of the door, immediately calling for back-up. 

Lesson #1: When you discover you're stuck, call for help!  

By the time I got there, it was almost a festive atmosphere. The girls were singing to pass the time and to control the anxiety.  Staff members, priests, and an assortment of supportive team members worked to keep the girls happy, requesting songs and joking with them to keep them calm while the fire department and building and grounds crew did their best to remedy the elevator situation.  

 Lesson #2: When you're trapped in a metal box (real or metaphoric) you get to choose your reaction.  You can panic and cry, or you can rally your troops and sing some 4 part harmony.  

When the second fire and rescue vehicle arrived, things got a little more scary.  Despite the best efforts of everyone involved, the fire department would have to use some rescue machinery known as the "Jaws of Life" to open the elevator door.  They made everyone leave the area.  I protested, "Those are MY kids!"  "I'm sorry Ma'am, but you have to go, too."  He was as sympathetic as he could be, given the circumstances.  When I saw the equipment he was about to use on the door that held my precious daughters (and their cousin and friend, who I also count as my beloved daughters) I freaked out a little.    

Lesson #3: When people you love are trapped in a metal box (real or metaphoric) DON'T 

LEAVE. 

I went upstairs,as directed, but I didn't go outside with the rest of the team.  I couldn't leave my kids! I stood at the elevator door, a floor above them and banged on the door so they could hear me.  I hope they could hear me.  I banged and yelled, "I'm right HERE!  Mom's right HERE! You'll be right out in a minute!  It's gonna get loud, but I'm right HERE!"  I heard them scream for me.  I heard them cry.  I listened to them cry, and I'd never felt so helpless.  I couldn't see what was happening, but I could hear metal grinding and the roar of the machines that must be deafening inside that metal box. I was having a "Mary Moment."  Is this how she felt while her son was being crucified?   

Lesson #4: What God taught me: 

As I banged on the door it occurred to me that I am not the first to feel this way.  Girls, every bit of my heart wants to be in that box with you.  I want to protect you, and calm you and wrap my arms around you, but you're trapped in a big metal box.  I would gladly trade places with you and be locked in that box FOR you, but all I can do right now is to stand above and tell you I'm here, and hope you keep listening for my voice, and that it brings you comfort. For a tiny moment, I felt connected to all of my ancestors who await my arrival in Heaven.  They call to me that they are right there, and they are hoping that I find comfort in their presence: in God's Holy Presence, which they are a part of.   This was certainly how Jesus felt, which inspired Him to be born of a woman so he could get on all of our elevators with us.  This is how the Creator felt in all of the Old Testament stories where the choices of his people landed them in their own forms of captivity again and again. 

This is the story of a parent loving her children, and wanting them to be free so they could be together. 

It's my story of an elevator.

It's the story of everyone who has ever been held captive by addiction, or poor choices, or PTSD, or just the circumstances of life. 

It's God's story of love. 

Lesson 5: Sometimes you have to use power tools to break free from your captivity.  

So this is what the door looked like after the girls were freed from the elevator.  It won't be functional again without a significant amount of help. Some metal boxes need to be broken to allow for a proper and timely escape. Their entire interment was a little over 2 hours.  We enjoyed the biggest hug of their young lives at the top of that stairwell! There was SO MUCH REJOICING that they were free.

Thank you, Lord, for the lessons.  Thank you CHWC Staff and Mike McDuffie. Thank you, camp coordinators, and the Groton Fire and Rescue, and Public Safety officers!  Thank you FC and KDubs.    

Why Bother Vaccinating Your Kids?

Wow!  That got your attention, didn't it?  It's kid of a hot spot for lots of parents of young kids. People feel very strongly one way or another on the issue.  To some folks, they're even fighting words.  So really, Why would you bother to vaccinate them?  What do you hope to accomplish?

Like most pro-vaccine types, you probably believe that this injection will give your child the power to overcome a variety of the more crippling and infectious childhood diseases. By giving your child this series of vaccines, you are empowering them with the strength to fight off that which seeks to destroy and weaken them. Before that threat is anywhere NEAR your baby, you want them to be prepared to fight it off.  Of course you want your child to have that power!  You want to fill their arsenal with the weaponry necessary to grow strong and confident, knowing that Whooping Cough will not take their lungs, and that the Polio will not cripple their legs.  You probably agree that it would be irresponsible of you to send your child out into the world of other children without being protected from the 'pickers and lickers' of the playground, grocery store, or day care!

Or maybe you don't believe there's any benefit in vaccinations.  You don't think there really are diseases that want to damage your baby, or you feel that you personally can keep him or her "safe enough".  Or maybe you don't want your child to be uncomfortable.  It hurts for a little bit.  Sometimes it makes kids cranky for a few days.  (To some kids with febrile seizures, it's life threatening, but not to most kids.)  Maybe you think to yourself, "I didn't like vaccinations, so I'm not going to make my kids go through that. It was horrible and I hated it. If they ask me about it, we'll talk."

Ridiculous, right?    

Has he or she in any way asked you protect them from Tetanus or the Measles?  Of course not!  They don't know there IS any such thing. As parents, we make decisions for our children to protect them and build their strength. We want to empower them to fight off ALL of the things that set out to weaken and destroy them.  ALL the choices we make for our children are because we love them and want them to be safe, and empowered to survive and thrive in a hostile, booger-infested world that wants to crush them and tell them they don't matter.  That may mean that you will force your beliefs about bio-hazards on them.  You will drag them, kicking and screaming if necessary, to the doctor's office because you know they will need what they are receiving.  Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but one day they will.

Just like they need God.

I baptized my children when they were not yet old enough to know what was happening.  I wanted to "vaccinate" them against evil by filling them God. They had no idea they were born with a separation between them and God, just like they didn't know they were susceptible to the Human Papilloma Virus that could render them infertile. I made the choice to fill them with God's Love as a protective serum for their souls. I wanted to empower them so that when the things of this world try to destroy and weaken them, they are prepared.  I hoped to instill in them that they are loved beyond measure, so that when the very real sicknesses of depression and addiction come near, they have God's Love to keep them sober and healthy, even if their physical strength fails.

I admit that I have forced my beliefs about biohazards on my children. I have also taken them to church, even under the occasional protest,  If they didn't like it, that's okay with me. I hoped to accomplish ALL the things that a vaccinator hopes to do. Protect, Strengthen, and Empower.
 

  

The Loose Tooth

There it was. Hanging out the front of this Kindergartener's mouth was the loosest, most non-connected tooth you've ever seen that wasn't already under a pillow. It had been bothering her all morning, and had just reached the point of no return. 

We all remember that moment, right? We've wiggled that tooth front to back and side to side, we can even see under it when we tip it far enough. She has finagled and twisted this tooth to where it is no longer in its proper place and can't go back to where it was earlier, but it's not out either.  Now she's asking me for help. 

Now being the mother of seven, I have almost 140 instances of experience with loose teeth and have no problem removing the loose teeth of my own kids. This is different. She's my school kid. I'm not her mother, and I feel the true nature of her dilemma.

How many times have we battled with the things that have outlived their place in our lives and we just can't give them up? We poke at them and twist them, even tip them from side to side, but when it comes time to remove it, we just...can't. 

Even when we can see two shiny new adult teeth behind this little obsolete baby tooth, she still held tight to the tooth she had always known, that had served her so well all these long five years of her life.  I just couldn't yank her old friend away from her. However, lunch time was coming soon, and the tooth wasn't going back! The best thing to do in this situation was to look to the future without that hangy little tooth. 

I ended up holding her tooth in a baggie (ziploc hazmat) while she leaned in to let me see the new teeth behind it, and darned if that tooth didn't fall right out! Right into the baggie!

Turns out it wasn't really connected any more. Kind of like the old hurt feelings and grudges I've been holding onto. Perhaps I could just put them in a baggie and finally let them go.

Maybe there's something shiny and new waiting to take their place.

The Newly Adopted Baby

I saw a video of a family.  I don't know the Mom, never met the Dad.  They may be a family member of a facebook friend's facebook friend.  Still, I cried.  I watched as the man and woman were handed their newly ADOPTED infant son for the first time.  He was a fresh little newborn, and in that moment, a MOTHER was born and a FATHER was born, and a FAMILY was created.  It was an amazing transformation to watch.  

I watched as these two new parents looked at their son with SO MUCH love and hope.  This little fella could do no wrong, and he carries on his little baby shoulders all of their hopes and dreams to carry on the family name, and show the world what it means to be a (fill in the family name of the kid here, I don't know it.) They have hopes to raise this child in a home filled with love and respect and for that child to grow to be the kind of person that makes the world a better place.  They have offered their love to a child that, for whatever reason, was given to be raised in a family other than the one it was born into.  What a gift those birth parents gave.

As the Mother handed her son to the Father, I watched his face.  This man accepted this child as his son, and accepted him into his arms and his heart.  You could feel so much more than "acceptance" in his expression.  He held his new son protectively, and he will be called on to protect this little man from the hurtful things of this world..  He supported his head, as he will support him emotionally and financially, spiritually and if necessary, physically.  He wrapped his arms around this tiny little baby and TOOK HIM IN.

I couldn't stop crying.  The moment was touching, and the family was sweet, but it was more. The Father looked at his newly adopted son the way I felt GOD looking at me when I was without a pulse.  No words were heard, no vision was experienced, but I came back with the knowledge within every cell of my being that I was (and AM) loved just like that.  Perfectly accepted.  Perfectly anticipated, expected, hoped for, and pursued, and loved beyond all comprehension. Not some random child, but HIS child.

"But when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to ransom those that are under the law, so that we might receive ADOPTION. As proof that you are children, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying out, "Abba, Father!"  So you are no longer a slave but a child, and if a child then also an heir, through God. (Galatians 4:7)  

 I am called to be HIS beloved child that carries HIS family name.  I am called to show the world what it means to be a CHRISTIAN (I KNOW that family name!)  I will help create a culture of love and respect, and do all I can to make the world a more loving place. My parents gave me the gift of being part of this Christian family. I love them for it!

My heart cries "Abba, Father!" and he wraps his loving arms around me and TAKES ME IN.


That's what I saw.

The Sixth Month

"...and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren;for nothing will be impossible for God.”

These words are written about Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist, in the story of the Annunciation. That's just a fancy word to mean "the announcement that Mary was going to give birth to the Savior of the World".  I like it.  

This part of the passage really jumped out at me when I heard it read aloud.  

I distinctly recall being in my sixth month.  It's some of the best part of pregnancy.  I was far enough along that I was done vomiting all day, and I had a little poof of belly.  I wasn't yet a planet with my own zip code, and I could still see my shoes from a standing position. I also had the benefit of being chock full of reproductive energy!  I was knocking out projects and getting things done.  I had a nest to feather, and it wasn't going to feather itself!  

So when I heard this passage, I was thinking of it in another context.  

I was thinking about the "sixth month" of life.  It is that time of life when you are most productive, and joyfully going about the business of making the world a better, more comfortable, more loving place.  It REALLY IS the good part!  

Elizabeth was thought to be barren.  Some friends and I hate that word.  It brings an image of the guy in rags dragging himself through the desert begging for water as the scorching sun bleaches the life out of everything. Below are some  definitions of "barren".        

1. 
   
2. 1.  (Of a woman) unable to have children.  Synonyms:Infertile, sterile, childless.

1. 2.  empty of meaning or value.  Synonyms:  pointless, worthless, profitless, valueless, unrewarding, purposeless, useless, aimless, hollow, etc....
2. 
   
3. 
   

It is crucial that we ALL agree that only the first definition applied to Elizabeth, and that one was only temporary. Only the first one is meant to describe a person.  

1. 
   

Sometimes, the second one has been used to describe me.  

1. 
   

I've been called each of these at one point or another, either with actual words, or by the actions of others.  I have been encouraged to feel useless and a waste of effort.  I have been defined by others as unnecessary, and not worth the flesh I was made of.  I have had someone tell me, "No court in the land would ever convict me of killing you, you are so ridiculous."  

1. 
   

I believed it.  I lived a very barren life inside myself for a very long time. I believed all the horrible lies I was told about myself, but not now. I am in the "sixth month" of my life.

I don't know when it happened exactly, that I started to see myself differently, but it was solidified when I was held in the arms of my Creator when my heart stopped.  There was nothing to get in the way of His Love.  No kids to take care of, no house to clean, no heart beat, no breathing.  

Just Me and LOVE.  

Perfect, eternal, beyond words and description.  I saw nothing, and experienced Pure Love.  God loves me like a newborn baby.  It's appropriate that He came to Earth that way.  He was Mary's perfect little boy.  Joseph would have looked at him with hopes and dreams and perfect Daddy love, even if this child wasn't the Savior of the World. It's how God sees us.  It's not that He doesn't know what mean things we are capable of, it's that He knows the Love we are capable of, and that we are made for.  

So here I am.  

The sickness and discomfort of my first trimester is done (I hope).  Now I'm on to being productive, helpful, fruitful.  With God's help, I will spread kindness and goodness that will last beyond my years.  I will give my strength and energy to share the love that God made me for.  

It will indeed be the sixth month for THIS woman who was once called all kinds of "barren". 

...For NOTHING will be impossible for God!       

1.   

Do You Love Me Enough?

I was listening to NPR and this fella was telling the story of his sister being in hospice.  He told of how he sat in her room, holding his beloved sister's hand, telling her how much he loved her. As he proclaimed his love for his dying sister, she asked him, "Do you love me enough to trade places with me?"

That stopped me in my tracks and made the rest of the story a blur. He felt very awkward about his answer, so he made a joke about her having to be married to his wife, but what a truly deep question.

"Do you love me enough to trade places with me?"

I remember when my granddaughter Evelyn was born.  She had a difficult time breathing at first, and she required some special care.  Her father (my son, Jordan) is a professional tuba player.  His lung capacity is beyond that of normal humans, yet his baby girl struggled to fully inflate her lungs.  His desire to take her place was palpable.  It was also beautiful.  It's what real love looks like.

"Do you love me enough to trade places with me?"

I think of my own sweet kids, and the times when they had stitches or fevers, or the chicken pox.  I would have gladly taken on that discomfort to ease their pain. I think of poor Luke, when I was in labor all those times.  I'm sure he would have taken my pain, if it was in his power to do so. (Well, once, anyway.)    

At so many points in my life, without saying these exact words, I have had this conversation with Jesus.  

When the baby we created out of love died inside my body, the devastation was crushing my very soul. I may have asked him,"Do you love me enough to trade places with me?"

When I was lost in my brokenness, and couldn't find a friend.  When I couldn't feel loved enough and couldn't feel whole enough, I may have asked him, "Do you love me enough to trade places with me?"

Too stubborn to change, and insisting on doing things my way instead of his, I have broken his heart and his promises too many times to count. Yet, I STILL have the audacity to ask him, "Do you love me enough to trade places with me?"

Nearly 2,000 years ago, he knew me already.  (He's God.  He can do that.) He knew what I would ask, and he said, "Yes, Amy.  As a matter of fact, I do."  Then he took flesh and suffered loneliness and frustration and sadness.  He mourned and felt his soul crushing as his friends turned away and the ones he came to save rejected him.  He took to the cross and died, Because He loves me enough to trade places with me.

It could have ended there, but it didn't. Now, He asks the question.

"Do I love Him enough to trade places with him?"

Look to the manger and answer that one.

Look to the cross and answer it again.

Now look to the Resurrection.

"Do you love me enough to trade places with me?"

 He does.  He did.  He has.  He always will.



        




 

Martyr Making

There's been SO much talk lately about some things happening around the world that are truly scary and unsettling.  If we're not careful, we can find ourselves in the middle of a full-blown hate-fest.  While I can't speak to the intentions of those people who opened fire on people in crowded public places, I suspect it was not the outcome I've noticed.  

Some would say that their purpose was to promote fear.  Lots of people are afraid, and living in fear.  Luke 12:4 tells us to look at it differently. 

 "I tell you, my friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body but after that can do no more.  I shall show you whom to fear. Be afraid of the one who after killing has the power to cast into Gehenna;  yes, I tell you, be afraid of that one."  

I can't live my life like that.  Each moment is too precious.  Besides, Luke 12:25 says 

"Can any of you by worrying add a moment to your life-span?"

There is no terrorist group, no enemy that can steal the love of Christ from me.  I can lay it down,but no power on Earth, above or below it can take it from me.  I will not fear, but I will be vigilant. I need to be aware that my life can be required of me at any time.  Luke 12:39 tells us:  

 "Be sure of this: if the master of the house had known the hour when the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into.  You also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.”

Having survived my cardiac arrest, I am acutely aware of the FACT that this day could be my last, and that I need to hold Christ close.  I should honor Him in all I do. When I fail, I need to admit it, and reconcile myself to Him quickly.  I need to look at my life and decide if someone would have to ASK me if I'm a Christian, or if they would just KNOW.   

There are two good things that have come from these terrible actions.  

1. There have been hundreds of new Christian martyrs created.  Because they would not deny Christ in this life, they can now be joined to Him in his death and resurrection.  We Catholic types believe this to mean that they are now one with God through Christ, and can intercede on our behalf.  Which brings us to number 2. 

2.  Many people are asking God to intercede.  They're talking to God.  They're thinking about God.  They're considering God.  I believe others are asking themselves the same questions I am pondering.  Would I swear an oath to save my life? An oath I don't believe?  Would I willingly walk over to the Christian side of the room knowing I would die a martyr's death? I hope I never find out, but I have great respect and admiration for those Syrian and Kenyan (and plenty of other) brothers and sisters in Christ who did just that.  

I choose Christ.  He chose me first. He loves me enough that He died for me, and I give my life to Him every day.  Leaving this life would only be loss to those who would miss me.  For me, it is gaining Heaven, and unity with my beloved Savior. 

I choose Love over hate every single time.     

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