Category Archives: Thankfulness

The Happy Dance

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Because we don’t have a regular couch in our Michigan cottage, Jack has chosen the next best thing as his favorite place to get comfy, an old wing chair. Although I won’t let him climb on the beds (and used mouse traps to convince him), I do let him snuggle in the well-worn easy chair.

Despite loving a soft place to rest, however, Jack’s absolute favorite place to be is outdoors, and his most loved outdoor spot is the beach.

Whenever we arrive there, whether it’s 90 degrees or ten below zero, he initiates his visit with what we call his “happy dance.” He throws himself down on his back with vigor and rolls from side to side, all four legs punching the air. It’s an upside-down hula as he wiggles his hips from side to side like he’s hearing music the rest of us can’t.

He’s taught his cousin-dog Sydney to do the happy dance, and together they thrash around on their backs like a couple of canines-possessed. Mary and I laugh at their abandon, wondering what on earth could possibly be appealing about getting sand and snow up your nose and in your eyes.

But that’s dogs for you. When Jack is doing his happy dance and I’m thinking he looks like an idiot, that doesn’t stop him, nor does he mind my having that opinion. He’s so pleased to be at the beach that his glee just bursts out of him in that way. I wish I could let joy burst out of me like that, not necessarily by rolling around on my back but maybe by singing loudly or twirling in a clumsy dance… even in front of others.

Five of our seven kids have spent time in Youth With A Mission, and each has described the unique worship services they’ve been a part of, all far different than their conservative church background. Part of the lively nature of YWAM worship is due to the happy conglomeration of students from a variety of countries and cultures. But most of it is just a wholehearted response to a deep love of God that bursts out in animated joy.

There’s dancing in the aisles, clapping, tears, waving of arms and hands, running around, spontaneous praying and more. If I was there, my most enthusiastic participation might be a turning up of palms, but that would only happen after I stopped staring at everyone else doing what I wished I could.

I can’t help it if I’m a conservative Swede with a straight-laced upbringing. But my heart for the Lord makes me eager for heaven where I have a hunch inhibitions will fall away and we’ll all be able to happy-dance with abandon, just like the YWAMers…

…and just like Jack.

 “Young women will dance and be glad, young men and old as well. I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.” (Jeremiah 31:13)

Blessed by a Blizzard

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Before our Florida family left us for their southern home, they’d hoped for a heavy snowstorm. Although they loved our northern cold after a hot weather year, they were disappointed with the small accumulation they found at Christmas time.

Louisa also arrived home eager to get into a Michigan winter after a school semester in sweaty Kona, Hawaii. Hopeful for deep snow, in the short time she was here, she didn’t get it.

Our British family has been here long enough to have enjoyed a blizzard at the front end of their stay but were counting on just one more snowfall before they left (next week).

Tonight they hit the jackpot.

A narrow column of lake effect snow is crawling at 4 mph from north to south along Lake Michigan, dumping its load directly on us as it hits land. On the satellite map the storm looks like Mother Nature’s gloved finger moving along the water surface as if checking for dust on a mantle top. Tonight’s forecast is in feet rather than inches, although in nearby Chicago, skies are clear.

Looking out the window, I feel like we’re living in a glass snow globe someone has just shaken. The blizzard churns in every direction, and we can hardly see the end of the yard. But it’s strikingly beautiful, clean and bright-white, even through nighttime’s darkness.

The God of summer rain is also the God of winter snow. He has set the world in motion and in that sense the laws of nature obey his orders. But according to Scripture, he’s more directly involved with our storm than that. Consider this passage from Job 37 and its description of the Lord’s command over nature:

“He says to the snow, ‘Fall on the earth.’ So that everyone he has made may know his work, he stops all people from their labor. The tempest comes out from its chamber, the cold from the driving winds. The breath of God produces ice, and the broad waters become frozen. He loads the clouds with moisture. At his direction they swirl around over the face of the whole earth to do whatever he commands them.”

The Bible says it well. We’ve stopped what we’re doing to look out the windows, marveling at what’s going on out there. Massive Lake Michigan is being stilled as frozen winds freeze it, and the clouds are loaded with moisture as they swirl in obedience to God’s commands.

 

Although tonight’s storm is an excuse to get out and frolic, it’s also the perfect chance to be enveloped in one of God’s wonders, appreciating him in the snow and giving him credit for this display of power and impressive splendor.

“The Almighty is beyond our reach and exalted in power.” (Job 37:23)

When Healing Comes

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After the death of a husband, how long does it take to heal? When is grieving finished?

I’ve looked back over recent weeks of blog posts and was surprised to realize not every one of them has been about Nate. At first I was appalled to see this, but after thinking it through, I think it’s as a sign of God’s kind mending of a broken heart. That’s not to say I don’t think about Nate daily, sometimes hourly. But the wrenching sadness happens less and less.

C. S. Lewis published a small book of journal entries penned during deep sorrow over losing his wife to cancer. A Grief Observed was so personal, he wouldn’t allow his name on the cover but instead ghost-published as N. W. Clerk. After Lewis died several years later, his stepson republished it with his true identity.

Lewis went through raw grief, doubting God’s love and availability to him, wondering whether there was an afterlife at all. But by the end of the book, his relationship with the Lord had been restored, and his grief was beginning to heal. In my own progress toward healing, I can relate well to this quote from A Grief Observed:

“There was no sudden, striking emotion. Like the warming of a room or the coming of daylight when you first notice them, they have already been going on for a long time.”

Today I was strongly encouraged by realizing my healing has already been going on for a long time. It’s not that I’m “finished”. I’ll still experience sad moments and occasional breakdowns, but just as Lewis learned, raw emotion  mellows, and we connect with our spouses in a new way. Instead of labeling Nate as “missing”, as having left a big, empty hole in our family, I think of him as our larger-than-life husband and father, the lively, loyal head of our family who was full of personality and loved each of us wholeheartedly.

As one of our kids said somewhere during this last year, “Papa was a legend.” He wasn’t the kind of legend that made the cover of TIME, but a Nyman-legend to be sure. Grief has a way of wrapping what’s good with a negative shroud, but as time passes and we heal, the layers peel away, and the positives come shining through.

God has helped me see more and more of these positives as the months have passed, and I credit him with every bit of my healing. He’s been my constant companion, my shield from despair and, as the biblical David put it, “the lifter of my head.”

Had we known Nate would die at 64, leaving us after only 42 days of warning, we’d have still chosen him for our husband and father. Grieving may not be finished, but he will always be our main man, the one we wanted then, the one we still love now, and the one for whom we thank God.

“You, O Lord, are a shield about me, my glory, and the One who lifts my head. I was crying to the Lord with my voice, and he answered me.” (Psalm 3:3-4)