Check the numbers.

Posted on May 23, 2011 by Margaret

Tonight my mind and heart are still at yesterday’s memorial service for Jim Rabb, the 32 year old son of good friends. Though hundreds assembled to honor his memory and encourage his brokenhearted family, the event was sorrowful.

As we waited for the service to begin, I studied the program and noticed we’d be hearing from both of Jim’s parents. His mom and I grew up together at Moody Church, and once we’d married and had families of our own, we spent summers in Michigan cottages a block apart.

Jim’s father, John, shared valiantly and effectively about the strong relationship he had with his son, but because I’m a mother like my friend Lois, I longed to know what she was thinking. Speaking at this emotionally-packed occasion would be a burdensome task, and I admired her willingness to stand in front of a microphone at all.

Lois did a beautiful job, and her words held power. She talked warmly about her son, describing daily phone chats and frequent affirmation of their love for each other, from the time he was a little boy.

Then she told a story about her favorite Scripture verse, Romans 8:28. “We know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” Through the years, the Lord has sent what she called “little hugs” through those biblical reference numbers, again and again.

For example, on New Year’s Day this year, she was luxuriating in a morning when she didn’t have to set her alarm or get up early. As she lay in bed talking to the Lord in the first moments of a new year, she turned to see what time it was. Her bedside clock said, “8:28”, a little hug from God to start off well.

Five months later, after having just heard the devastating news of her only son’s sudden death, she looked again at a clock. At that critical moment, it said, “8:28”. As her heart was racing double-time and her head pounding with an impossible reality, God gave her a firm hug and said, “Lois, you can’t see it now, but my purposes in all this are positive and far-reaching. Everything is going to turn out well.”

A mother who’s able to stand and speak to hundreds at her own child’s memorial service could only do it because God was already making good on his 8:28 promise to her.

Tonight, just before I sat down to write this post, I went to the kitchen for some iced tea. As my mind flooded with thoughts of Jim and his family, I glanced at my oven clock.

It said 8:28.

“When times are good, be happy; but when times are bad, consider this: God has made the one as well as the other.” (Ecclesiastes 7:14)

Taking the Lead

Posted on May 9, 2011 by Margaret

Last week I enjoyed writing about my mom and her mom, thankful for the upright heritage they (and others) left. Judging by worldly standards, Mom was an old lady of 92 who never worked outside her home or accomplished anything of note. Strangers might have said, “Hers was a wasted life.”

But those of us who knew her, know otherwise. Before Mom died, we used to joke she’d have a big funeral, and we were right. The crowds came in droves, filling the large room where her body lay, spilling out into the halls and out the front door.

The funeral director came running to us just before the service began with alarm on his face. Distressed that not everyone had a seat or had even gotten into the room he said, “Why didn’t you tell me!”

What he meant was, “Why didn’t you tell me this woman was popular? We don’t usually see this for old ladies like her!”

As we greeted guests, Mary and I noticed how most were from the generations behind Mom, people our age and younger. These were the “children” she’d loved and influenced throughout her life, loving all of them as her own. Rather than wasting her life, she’d used it for lofty purposes, leaving footprints that led them all to Jesus.

Here’s an important question for each of us still marching along on this side of our funerals: “Where will my footprints lead?”

Steve Green’s song “Find Us Faithful” says,

“As those who’ve gone before us,
Let us leave to those behind us
The heritage of faithfulness passed on through godly lives.”

God gives us a simple but effective way to leave footprints others will find it worthwhile to follow: just track the steps of Jesus.

In Mom’s last year of life, she continually had her nose in a Bible. One day I asked if she’d looked at the biography of Julia Child I’d just given her, or her new book about hymn authors. She said, “Honey, I don’t have any time for those. I’m studying for my finals.”

Despite not owning a trophy case or being written up in periodicals, Mom finished well.

“After all our hopes and dreams have come and gone
And our children sift through all we’ve left behind,
May the clues that they discover and the memories they uncover
Become the light that leads them to the road we each must find.” (Steve Green)

“God called you to do good, even if it means suffering, just as Christ suffered for you. He is your example, and you must follow in his steps.” (1 Peter 2:21)

Ya don’t say….

Posted on May 4, 2011 by Margaret

After being with Dad, Mom and Nate as their lives wound down, I’ve learned people on pain meds are not themselves. Trying to have a conversation with a heavily drugged person gives meaning to the word “hallucinogen.”

All of us wonder what we’ll say in our final days. Dad remained dignified, and Nate, who always had much to say, was accurate and gracious to the end.

But Mom? Absolutely goofy. Her colorful statements were so entertaining, we kept a log. She’d been a one-woman-show during her non-medicated life, and her words while drugged (for pain) stayed in line with her character.

Get ready to laugh.

Chewing on the hem of her hospital gown she said, “This tastes good, and I like the color. It’s also very nourishing.”
To a grandson: “Let’s play funeral. I’ll be the corpse. You be the soloist.”
To a sweet visitor: “I can’t wait to get rid of you.”
“The most important thing is my conversation with God. He talks out of the Bible, and I talk back.”
To me: “Let’s both get in the same bed and start a riot about same sex marriage.”
It’d be nice to see my apartment again, but I guess I’d rather go to heaven. I’ll wave down at you.”
Looking at our wrinkles: “Do I have strings all up and down my face? Because both Mary and Margaret do.”
To a nurse removing her dinner: “Save that food tray. When I’m in heaven, if the Lord decides not to return to Earth, I’ll have something to feed him.”
“Maybe I’ll go to bed now.” We said, “You’re already in bed.” Then she said, “Boy, that was easy.”
Son Tom asked: “How do you feel?” She said, “With my hands. How do you feel?”
After restlessly working both legs out from under the sheets, she began laughing hysterically. We said, “What’s so funny?” She sputtered, “My beautiful legs!”
To me: “I wish you a Happy New Year and that you’ll get prettier.”
“If I can do anything for you, let me know. I can only do things in my miserable way, but I am the way, the truth and the life.”
“It’s nice when parents are just starting out and know that ‘Jesus loves their little children.’ That helps when they don’t know anything.”
“Maybe I should change my mind about going to heaven tonight. There’s lots of happy people here, too.”
“I served 10 salmon. Put the rest over there. It’s brain food. It’s ok, but not great.”
“When I die, just drown the [pet] bird and throw him in the toilet.”
Pushing an invisible item around the end of the bed with her foot: “I’m trying to get that muffin over into the corner.”
A friend called and said, “Who’s there with you?” She said, “Just Mary and Margaret, if you call them visitors. It’s more like a zoo.”
“Today I’m better. I have happiness running out of my lips.”
To a visitor: “I’m going to throw up any minute…on you.”
Fingering her hospital gown: “I’m going to send this to Joyce. She likes blue and can wallpaper a room with it.”
“If I ever wrote a book, it would be about the magnificent mercy of God.”

These are just a few from 26 pages of Mom’s colorful statements. She spoke often of her approaching death but never with uncertainty or fear. One of her last statements while “under the influence” was, “Some stumble, some fall, but if we love Jesus Christ, we all eventually get home.”

She got home 19 days later… but forgot to take her salmon.

“We would rather be away from these earthly bodies, for then we will be at home with the Lord.” (2 Corinthians 5:8)