Cemetery Sentiments

As always, our family assembled at Chicago’s Rosehill Cemetery today to talk about the 7 loved ones buried there: two grandparents, a great uncle and an uncle, mom, dad, and the most recent, Nate.

Each Memorial Day before we gather, Mary urges us to recall memories or bring readings to share with the group. This year I brought one of Nate’s journals, wanting to read-aloud something he wrote. Most of his diaries were work-related, but this one was very personal, written while on a getaway weekend in 2005.

During those years his life had required him to accept some demanding changes, and he was struggling in several areas. Wanting to get back to the basics, he separated himself from all of us and eliminated everything but Scripture and prayer. He also subtracted food, though in his notes he did mention having coffee.

After Nate died, I found this journal in one of his drawers and recognized him in the words. Many of the pages had numbered lists on them. One was titled, “I thank the Lord for…” Another said, “Hebrews” (his favorite biblical book). A third was headed, “Questions for the Lord.” On that weekend he was doing the hard work of self-examination, calling out to God for an ordering of his thoughts.

Today at the cemetery I read from the prayer he wrote at the end of the weekend. Several lines jumped off the page, and they seemed appropriate for our moments at his grave. The prayer was 15 handwritten lines in which he detailed his personal weaknesses, asking for God’s help with them. “Connect me directly with you so that… Give me the relationship with Christ that… Focus me first on you and then on…”

But the lines that really tugged at my heart were the last ones: “Let me breathe the sweet, clean, pure air of life that you want for me. What do I need to do?”

It was heartening to know that after all those hours of painful soul-searching, Nate had landed on the truth that God wanted to give him the “sweet, clean, pure air of life,” at least symbolically. Though the perplexing circumstances of his life hadn’t changed, his spirits had been lifted.

As for his question “What do I need to do?”, God’s answer (revealed later) was, “Endure a miserable six weeks of cancer and go through earthly death.” Today, while looking at his tombstone, I cried with emotion to realize the Lord hadn’t just symbolically given him what he’d asked for but had literally provided “the sweet, clean, pure air” of a new, carefree life… in paradise.

Nate seemed to be present with our group at the cemetery today, at least through his words. And there were two very important ones at the end of his prayer:

“Love, Nate.”

“The earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results.” (James 5:16)

Anticipating Perfection

Decades ago when I was pregnant, I looked forward to each monthly doctor’s appointment with high expectations, longing to come away with a new tidbit or two about my unborn baby.

These appointments didn’t give me much to go on, but I did get to hear the rapid heartbeat each month and always learned I’d gained a few pounds, which meant the baby was getting bigger. Tummy measurements confirmed that, and I left with greater knowledge of my child than I’d had going in.

Today’s mothers-to-be are privy to sophisticated ultrasound equipment that gives all kinds of info. Three-D photos show facial features with such accuracy parents can even tell which side of the family their little one resembles.

Four days from now we will get to “see” Birgitta’s baby via scheduled ultrasound, and though we may not be able to view defined facial features, we’ll learn if she’s carrying a boy or girl.

Craving information about this little mini-human surely pleases the One who’s working on creating him/her. We’re excited to meet the child God is preparing, but October 21st seems very far away! Thursday’s ultrasound will be thrilling as we get to know our baby just a little bit more.

Doctors insist the main goal of the procedure is to check for abnormalities, to verify the due date, and to be sure baby is growing well. Our main focus is, should we think pink or do blue?

But what if the ultrasound discovers something irregular? What if we learn baby will have a defective heart or malformed spine? Or any imperfection at all? What then?

Delivering a perfect baby on D-day is the goal of every mommy, but of course logic tells us there’s no such thing. Even if some babies appear perfect, we know all human beings have imperfections built into them, and all children eventually bring problems to their parents.

Birgitta has wisely turned down her opportunities to be invasively tested for some of the more serious troubles babies can have, knowing beyond doubt she would never terminate her pregnancy regardless. “So why worry about test results that might be inaccurate anyway?” she said.

I’m with her.

If we truly believe God is the creator of all life and of this child in particular, then isn’t it best to trust him to deliver the specific baby that’s right for Birgitta? And won’t he make sure we’re prepared to receive the one he sends?

All of us are rife with flaws, and to expect anything different from this baby is unrealistic. There’s only one way any of us can ever reach perfection, and that’s through Christ. We hope our little one will one day realize this, and I’m praying about that now. But in the mean time, we’re expecting God to do a perfect job of putting together this new little family in exactly the way he wants.

[Jesus Christ] “offered himself to God as a single sacrifice for sins. By that one offering he forever made perfect those who are being made holy. (Hebrews 10:12,14)

Distracted

Our 1993 trip to London, England, was full of happy surprises, including our encounter with the dynamic Diana. But our stop-over in this famous city also included one miserable experience.

While we were abroad I enjoyed buying trinket-souvenirs for the 6 children I’d left at home, things like toffee candy in a double-decker bus tin. As for Nate, I was planning a special purchase.

Our family was in the throes of a financial stranglehold back then and had eliminated all unnecessary spending. (The only reason I went to England was that Mom was treating.) I’d spent months setting aside small bits of money in anticipation of the trip, wanting to buy Nate a new pen. He loved pens, especially fountain pens, and used them all. Owning one from the UK would be unique.

By the day of our departure I’d saved $430 toward the pen and looked forward to choosing it. The morning our group of 6 decided to shop at the world famous department store Harrods, I knew my moment had come.

As we approached the 160 year old store, a commotion across the street grabbed our attention. We found a man hawking what he said was 24 karat gold jewelry displayed on the lid of a suitcase. “These necklaces are worth 10 times what I’m charging! If you took them into Harrods, their appraisal would bear that out. Hurry and make your purchases before security makes me leave!”

As he talked he laid out new pieces, each one glittering more than the previous one. Mom purchased a necklace and said, “I’m going to Harrods for an appraisal. If it isn’t as he says, I’m getting my money back.”

We crossed the street and went into Harrods, but when I reached down to check my purse, the zipper was open! I dug inside, but my wallet was gone.

“I’ve been robbed!” I shouted. “My money’s gone!”

We concluded that the jewelry guy hadn’t been working alone. A second man must have been moving through the crowd picking pockets and purses as we gawked over gold necklaces.

God wants us to hold everything lightly, every possession, opportunity, relationship, title, and every dollar bill. There’s not one thing on this earth that can’t be somehow taken from us, including our lives. It’s better to view “our” things as on-loan rather than owned, because if they vanish, our adjustment isn’t difficult. Everything we have, including each next breath, has its ultimate source in God.

Although 19 years have passed since I lost my $430, I still haven’t figured out why God let it happen. Nate never got his fancy pen, and nothing positive came from the loss. There is one consolation, though: when Mom got her money back for bogus gold, the hawker got a tart lecture from an American oldster for being so dishonest.

“All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had.” (Acts 4:32)