Just Let Me Grieve

So many deaths. Again. Children this time and their teachers. Adults recently just shopping. Worshippers in church killed. Hatred expressed. Life gone. Hopes dashed. Futures snuffed out.

Black friends teaching their sons and daughters how to talk to people so they can come home that night, and the next, and not be murdered. It's smart to teach them I know because of the world around us...but it brings tears to my eyes that it has to be done to save their children's lives. I never had to tell my children those instructions just so they might come home.

Latino parents sending their children to school, only a few days of school left before summer vacation. Summer! Yes, as any child is happy for a break. Summer break. And now there is no summer break for them. There is death. Death. Heartache. The death of hope. The teachers murdered too who were spending their lives to make a difference in their community and for these children and their families.

People of various faiths worshipping in a variety of places that used to be safe places but now violence enters so often. Death.

Rambling I know. But the violence just goes on and on. I am sad. Let me just be sad a while. I don't want to just turn to the next story, like how quickly war has left the front and center of our attention, except for those in Ukraine who still face death every day.

And don't tell me about how many people die or are murdered in other ways and we should care about them more. Don't tell me that...right now. I know you are right. I care about them too. But don't tell me that right now. Let me grieve for this classroom. Let me grieve for this grocery store. Let me grieve for this church and these faith communities.

We all have our own problems, I get that. I do too. But just let me grieve for someone else this time.

Sorrow. Pain. Sadness. When will it end? Stop it people.

I know it will go on, I know that. But let me never stop crying out for it to stop. Wishing for it to end. Praying for it to just stop.

Trust

A dozen years ago I finished reading "Prayer: Does it Make Any Difference?" by Philip Yancey. I wrote these thoughts then and as I came across them now I find that they still resonate within me.

Near the end of the book, he quotes Helmut Thielicke speaking to his German congregation near the end of World War 2.

"One day, perhaps, when we look back from God's throne on the last day we shall say with amazement and surprise, 'If I had ever dreamed when I stood at the graves of my loved ones and everything seemed to be ended; if I had ever dreamed when I saw the specter of atomic war creeping upon us, if I had ever dreamed when I faced the meaningless fate of an endless imprisonment or a malignant disease; if I had ever dreamed that God was only carrying out his design and plan through all these woes, that in the midst of my cares and troubles and despair his harvest was ripening, and that everything was pressing on toward his last kingly day--if I had known this I would have been more calm and confident; yes, then I would have been more cheerful and far more tranquil and composed.'"

Now back to my thoughts. God has a plan and I don't see it all. But I want to trust...to trust God more. We don't need to be in the middle of a World War to experience sadness, weakness, fear, and doubt. Every day we wonder why all of this is happening around us and in us and the ones we care about. Still, God has everything under control. I choose to believe that. Someday I will see God face to face but now I see dim reflections. But the reflection shows me Jesus more and more. I will follow the light I have and know that the light is Jesus.

A Rich Life: What has made my faith stronger?

I think my faith has become stronger as I live through the best and worst moments of life. The best moments have made me stronger as I saw God at work and how he worked in the situations for my good. What seemed like the worst moments taught me to hold on to God tightly which made my faith stronger.

The best moments of my life include discovering and marrying my wonderful wife Diane for sure. Only God could have brought such different people together and kept us together for so many years. Trusting in God through this has definitely made my faith stronger. I am not always easy to live with and seeing Diane not give up on me is truly a gift from God. In marriage, I got to see a different aspect of God that I had not seen before. Some would call it the “female” part that can only be seen in a close relationship with a woman. Diane is so godly and so Christ-like and seeing it helps me discover God in new ways. My faith continues to be enriched by her daily life, her witness to me, of what a good mother truly is, of what our heavenly Parent fully is with all of the characteristics of One who is father and mother to us all. I knew God as Father before I met Diane, even though I am growing in that knowledge as well, but being with her lets me see how God cares for us as a hen cares for her chicks. Diane is such a good Momma and that shows me that side of God.

Other best moments of my life include the births and lives of my delightful daughters. Watching them be born and then grow as infants, children, teens, and into womanhood has been such a wonder to me. My faith has grown stronger trying to teach them, love them, and model for them a good father. They both have made the job easy because of their respect and love for me. I hold onto God tightly as I want God to be at the center of their lives as well yet know it is a decision and lifestyle that only they can choose for themselves. I pray for them daily and am so glad for the times we are together and the memories we have made over the years and continue to make. They strengthen my faith as I hold onto God and let them fly on their own yet let them know that I am here for them always.

Then there are the worst moments in life. The times that I have failed God and felt so terrible that I did. The times that I have hurt the ones I love and the times that I have been hurt so badly by others. In these times my faith has been strengthened as I was driven closer to God because there was nowhere else to go. 

In my times of failure, I have to admit that I didn’t feel right away that my faith got stronger. Usually, I felt like I was fighting through my failure and then realizing that I needed to trust God more. God was there for me but I was trying to deal with things on my own. Then when I wised up I asked God to forgive me for not calling on him for help right away and I told him that I needed him to see me through whatever it was. All of that took a while. There was no instant fix. Often I have been a slow learner. I still am but I want God more than anything and I’m holding on to him for dear life. Fortunately, God is and has been holding on to me as well. I am so grateful that he didn’t give up on me in my times of failure or in the times that I acted like I was sailing high on my own. All of this has made my faith stronger. I am definitely a work in progress.

Rococo. Coco to her friends.

Sweeping down the hill filled with light yellow daisies and pastel green grass she bends the wind almost as the breeze moves her along. Casting aside any encumbrance Rococo, Coco to her friends,  runs through the fields and picks a few daisies with a lowering of herself onto her knees and pulling up the daisies and then bounding back onto her feet and down the hillside.

Every movement smooth, masterful as she glides along weaving her way through the trees that begin at the end of the open field. Looking up and dancing with the branches surrounding her as she continues to move forward until she seems to disappear behind one huge tree with low-hanging branches.

Then the tree itself begins to dance and as the wind moves through those branches it makes a sound that is not a howling but instead a beautiful flute-like sound with an enchanting melody. It’s as if Coco and the tree are one and in that unity, the solidness of the trunk and the fluidity of Coco’s movements along with the branches have produced a creation that is alive like no other.

Then, seemingly from nowhere, a pounding drum is heard as from the middle of the tree trunk over and over a rhythm intensifies and rises and falls with the sound of the flute, the melody and the rhythm of the drum dancing inside the tree and the branches and in Coco, still unseen.

As this music continues the branches scroll upwards into the sky, dancing and painting with their leaves and the arms of Coco and her long flowing hair. That hair moves back and forth in the sky making a vision in the clouds that is beyond what mere humans can create and more than the look of any tree living.

Then, as the sculpted heavens show forth such beauty, Coco walks down from the sky down the stairway that is wound among the colors and the wisps of life. She makes her way down ever so slowly still holding daisies from the field and leaves from the branches of the trees and the colors of the clouds in her eyes. 

She smiles and then quietly walks through the trees to another forest and to another field. The earth rustles between her feet as she goes through the fallen leaves and she hums the tune that the flute played as she claps her hands to the rhythm that had come from within the tree. She doesn’t look back but the masterpiece she sculpted with the help of the trees is still there, reaching up and up and up. 

And then she is gone. But the beauty remains. Of Rococo, Coco to her friends.

A Rich Life: Where did I go on vacation as a child?

From my youngest days, we went to visit family in the summer for two weeks then again just after Christmas through just after New Year’s.

Usually, we would first go and visit my Mom’s parents in the hills of West Virginia, Bomont, up a mountain with a creek running through the property. My Uncle Leo and Aunt Nina lived in the house by the road and then there was a short wooden bridge across the creek to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. 

The house was old, like them, and we loved it, and them more. There was a front porch with chairs and an outhouse behind the house. It was quite a good fortune for us all when they got an indoor bathroom and bathtub put in during probably my late childhood/early teen years.

The house inside was a delight, like a cottage really with a great kitchen where Grandma would make the best food, especially breakfast. I can still picture Grandpa at night sitting in the living room peeling potatoes for the next morning’s breakfast and I remember he had on white socks. Then in the morning, Grandma would fry up those potatoes and also fry eggs and bacon and sausage, and I’m pretty sure there were grits as well or some kind of rice. All I know is it was white. Breakfast was wonderful! We ate and ate and ate. Talk about a country breakfast!

My brother and I would play outside all day long, sometimes in the creek and even swim in it, and pretty often we would walk down with my sister to Opal’s Store. Opal was the local Post Mistress and she sold goodies besides and I think had a gas pump too. I remember always enjoying Honey Buns, a sweet treat that I can still almost taste and enjoy from time to time. But then they were such a treat for my childhood snack at Opal’s. Seeing a Honey Bun now in a store, a kind of cinnamon roll with icing still takes me back.

My grandparents had chickens in a chicken coop behind their house from which they got fresh eggs for breakfast and of course, fresh chicken when we had fried chicken, which I especially remember my Aunt Nina making. The chickens were clucking and making noise and I didn’t want to go in there. I’m not sure if I ever did but they were a sight for sure.

The beds were so good to sleep in. Probably the only time in my life that I got to sink into a real feather bed. It was so soft and I would sink down into it and sleep the night away. 

Lots of adventures at Grandma and Grandpa’s place but after about a week we would get anxious to go to my Dad’s family because there were cousins there about our age to play with.  

So we would say goodbye to Mom’s family in the hills and go into the city of St. Albans and see Dad’s Mom and Stepdad who we called Mamaw and Papaw.  Mamaw had a big boarding house and she would serve them breakfast as well. So we got to stay in it and eat there for breakfast. She ran a diner for a while also. She was fun to be around and was also quite the businesswoman, though I didn’t realize that when I was a child. Papaw was always old it seemed and was very kind and tall and thin and quiet.

When we went to St. Albans we also got to see my Uncle Ivan and Aunt Lillie. They were a great couple and we enjoyed seeing them and they always made us feel special.

The big thing as a child was that we got to play with our cousins, Greg, Connie, and Sherry. They were pretty much the same age as me, David, and Rosalyn and we had lots of good times. They were the children of Aunt Ruby and Uncle Jack who were very fun to be around. Aunt Ruby was so fun-loving and liked to trick people. She made great fried chicken too and always made us treats.

When we grew up together as cousins we would do shows for our parents and grandparents in St. Albans at Aunt Ruby and Uncle Jack’s house. We would dress up, sing, perform, and laugh and there was always much appreciation from the audience who loved to see us having such fun and performing for them. So many good times putting our shows together.

Christmas vacation was a lot the same except shorter. We would head to the mountains and then to the city. The big thing in the city was New Year’s Eve when we had a big party that lasted into the new year and we ate shrimp. Aunt Ruby and Uncle Jack hosted everyone and always had shrimp and lots of it. More shows of course by the cousins and we had lots of fun.

Our summer and Christmas vacations as a child were great times with family. I am so glad for those memories and those people.

A Rich Life: What's the first major news story you can remember living through as a child?

I was in my classroom at school on November 22, 1963. We had just come back to the room after lunch. The teacher got our attention. I don’t remember how she did it any differently than any other time. But the words she said were different than any I had ever heard or felt in my life. She said President Kennedy has been killed. I’m not sure if she said anything right there about his having been shot or if she used the word assassinated, but she made it clear that our President was dead. He had been killed. 

It was shocking to hear. I remember that one boy in our class cheered. Looking back he probably didn’t think it was real or he, and his family, perhaps didn’t like Kennedy. Or he was just being funny or trying to be.  But I still remember that he cheered. But there was no more of that. Not from him or anyone else.

I don’t remember the rest of the day at school. Since he was shot on a Friday shortly after noon, we had the weekend at home to find out more. We watched on TV and read what came out in the newspaper. Big bold letters of headlines saying President Kennedy Assassinated and pictures and descriptions. 

We were numb. How could this happen to our President? I was only 13 and our family was Republican but he was our President, still, even though he was a Democrat. That’s the way that it was in those days. He was our President. And he was dead. By an assassin’s bullet.

It was a crazy weekend. A new President was sworn in, Lyndon Johnson, and leadership of the country continued. But we had lost our President. He was so young and so positive. People had called his time in the White House the days of Camelot. Only later would I see some of the tragedies of Camelot itself, but for now while he was alive it was a new day. A hopeful time. Working to put a man on the moon and take care of the needy in our country and help in the world. Such ideals and such hope. 

Then he was shot down. Murdered. Assassinated. 

Two days later, Sunday, November 24, Lee Harvey Oswald, the man who killed Kennedy, was being moved from one place to another and out of the crowd Jack Ruby pulled a gun and killed Oswald. It was unreal. We were still learning about Oswald, it had only been a few days, and he was murdered. 

One more shocking detail added to it all. Later there were investigations of all of it but for that weekend it was just simple details. Our President had been assassinated and then the assassin had been killed.

It was all so big and so horrible. Our President had been killed. The blood-stained dress of his wife, Jackie. The way she stood by the new President, Lyndon Johnson, as he was sworn in as President. The mourning and the grief and the funeral and the processions. 

Sometime later in my teens, our family visited Arlington National Cemetery and saw the Eternal Flame that was at President Kennedy’s grave. The flame was a sign of hope. Yes, he was shot down and died way too young. But his vision of hope would continue. We could be better than all of this. America could be a place of hope for the world.

I still remember. I still hope. And the first song at our wedding that we danced to was from Camelot. 

A Rich Life: What advice would I give my 20-year-old self?

At 70+ the advice that I would give my 20-year-old self is to enjoy life. Lots of things are going to happen along the way that will try to take your joy but don’t let them. People will question your motives but if you believe that what you are doing is right then keep doing it. Be kind to others but in your kindness don’t let them hold you back from the life that you were made for.

Of course, that means that you will have to discover that life. You will have to become the one that God created you to be and that becoming is a lifetime adventure. Seeking it out will bring you lots of happiness and just enjoy that when it comes. You don’t have to always be looking for the next thing. Take joy in what you have and appreciate the family and friends that you have. They won’t always be there so love them while you can.

Especially your mom. Hug her as often as you can. Don’t be so busy with school and work and friends that you don’t go home and see her. She loves you. She gave you life. Hold on to her as much as you can as you look for how you will be an independent adult on your own. Though you will be independent you will always need your Mom. When she is gone you will wish you had written her more, called her more, visited her more. But then when she is gone don’t beat yourself up. Take those memories, those regrets, and use them as a reminder to care for your Dad and your sister and your brother and your friends, and don’t take them for granted either. 

You will discover whether it is for a short time or a long time there will never be enough time to be with your parents and siblings. Love them, love them, love them. And when you have a family of your own, which you doubt now that you will ever have, hold tightly onto them. Not in a way that strangles them but in a way that lets them know you are aware that the moments together are far too short and that the years go way too fast. So enjoy them. Love them. Bring your best to them and bring out the best in them.

You care deeply about justice and peace and you will discover that the two collide at times. Still, don’t give up on either of them. That passion for them is deep in you and your life will be better for working towards them in your unique way. The passion you have for what is good and right needs to be extended to others as well, that how they see the good and the right could be the way. Don’t be afraid to change, to admit you were wrong. It’s hard to believe now when you are 20 but everything you think isn’t the only way to see things, isn’t the only correct way. Give others some slack.

I know what is in your head, that you can back off from a difficult discussion because you are OK with them being wrong because you think you are so right. That will work for you but someday you will see that more often than you thought, they were the ones who were right and you were the one who was wrong, or at least might be wrong. 

Hang on to hope and in times when it seems to be gone, grab for it anyway. You will feel hopeless at points but you don’t need to stay that way. Others won’t know how you are feeling inside but reach out to those you trust and love and let them remind you of the hope that exists even if you can’t seem to see it yourself.

Reflect hope to others. Don’t keep it to yourself. Just as you need it the world desperately needs it also. Your family will need it. Your friends will need it. Strangers will need it. They will see you as a hope-filled person and you need to share it with them. You will do that. You will reflect hope.

And that, my 20-year-old self, is how you will enjoy life. That’s what I want for you. That’s the advice I have for you. Enjoy life as you reflect hope to others and experience it for yourself.