Yearly Archives: 2010

Waving Goodbye Again

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Ever since I had to say goodbye to my husband as he died (a trauma like no other), subsequent goodbyes have been difficult. Over four decades of time, Nate and I stood on front porches or in driveways waving our farewells literally hundreds of times, most always side-by-side. Maybe that’s the reason I struggle now. The goodbyes themselves are intensified because I’m waving solo.

Leaving Birgitta on her university campus was equally as poignant as leaving our first college-age child, but for different reasons. When Nate and I drove Nelson to LeTourneau University in Texas 20 years ago, we and he were two years into a parent-child drama we’d never anticipated. Nelson was acting-out big time, dragging us into the offices of high school deans and the courtrooms of impatient judges.

We’d made the excruciating parental decision not to soften life’s harsh natural consequences for him any longer, and as a result, his offenses multiplied, along with our frustrations.

When he chose a college 1000 miles from home, we agreed it was a good idea. The separation would do us all a world of good. But even though our relationship with Nelson had been a tug-of-war, it was still sad to say goodbye the day we drove away from his campus. I bawled during most of our drive home from Texas.

Now I’ve left our youngest at college, the last time I will participate in this very common and somewhat thorny parent-child ritual. Today it happened under completely different circumstances than with Nelson or even with any of the other kids; Birgitta is the only one who hasn’t had her father cheering her on to this new academic and life challenge. He told each of the others, just before we waved goodbye, “You’re taking the first step onto the bridge between childhood and adulthood.” Birgitta didn’t get to hear him say that to her.

 

She has worked hard, co-operated with her parents, budgeted her money, kept track of her things and been a good little sister to six siblings. As she begins her residence at the university, it’s a big deal for both of us, the end of life as we’ve known it. But the end of something usually means a new thing is beginning.

Louisa accompanied us on our journey to Iowa today, making our Walmart trip twice the fun it would have been without her. She successfully played the role of cheerleader for her sister and exuded enthusiasm for Birgitta’s choice of school, her dorm, her room and everyone we saw along the way.

This morning before we left the Michigan cottage, the three of us prayed over our day, acknowledging that God had already been to where we were going in order to get everything ready for us. And as Birgitta’s mom, it’s reassuring to know that as we left, he planned to stay. She carries the Lord in her heart, and because of that, he’s promised never to leave her.

And thankfully, because God is God, he went home with me, too.

“Be content with such things as you have, for he himself has said, ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you’.” (Hebrews 13:5)

Daft on Rafts

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Waves, rafts and kids… a formula for fun. Today the girls celebrated Birgitta’s last vacation day before college by romping in heady Lake Michigan surf. Their laughter rose above the crash of the waves, and I had as much fun watching them as they had playing.

Churning white water presents three options: over, under or through. Leaping to jump or dive over a wave is a delight, offering a smooth ride down. Ducking under to let the turmoil of a breaking wave roll above you is especially good if you open your eyes and watch it pass.

But choosing to go through a wave, experiencing the full power of underwater chaos, is spectacular. Knowing you’ll come out the other side lets you submit with abandon.

Lake Michigan waves, admittedly friendlier than their bigger ocean counterparts, develop in the same way as the giant cousins. A new weather system bringing wind begins to stir calm water into a chop, which is followed by larger breakers. Bigger winds? Bigger waves.

Because of weather’s ongoing changes, we’re never sure when to pack the rafts for a day at the beach. But the rustling of trees along with a distant roar lets us know.

Like the continual change on the water’s surface, our family is adjusting to changes, too. The biggest one has been getting used to Nate’s absence. Ten of us have been working hard to calm our emotional waters over the past nine months. In many day-to-day ways also, a measure of chaos similar to white water has risen up and overwhelmed, just as big waves break over a swimmer on a raft.

Since last November, the “weather” of grief has shifted often, sometimes leaving us to tread water without a raft at all, which is exhausting. We’ve all felt like the next storm might swamp us completely, should it arrive too soon. But here we are, still afloat, making gradual progress through the waves.

Now we’re beginning to experience fresh winds of family change. Birgitta will become a first time university student. Nelson will return after circling the globe since last January while leading a YWAM group. Louisa will begin an intensive nine month Bible school, and Jack and I will regroup in an empty nest. Waves may develop, or there may be calm water ahead. It’s too soon to get the weather report.

But we aren’t alone in this. Everyone experiences change, and much of it involves waves. Waves of grief, waves of pressure, waves of work, waves of obstacles, waves of decisions.

Forty years ago we sang along with a Top 40 hit whose chorus went like this:

  • Put your hand in the hand of the man who stilled the waters.
  • Put your hand in the hand of the man who calmed the sea.

It was good counsel then and is still good now. The mental picture of God’s big, sure grip on each of us as we toss about in the waves of change should remind us he’s pulling us through toward quieter waters.

As a matter of fact, God has plans to one day pull everybody out of the water completely. We’ll be done with going over, under or through any more waves of change. And when that happens, we can deflate our rafts for good.

“He leads me beside still waters.” (Psalm 23:2b)

King of Rock ‘n Roll

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There’s been a running debate in our family since 1977: is Elvis Presley in heaven?

Although none of us knew him personally, thankfully God knew him and knows him still. And in deciding who goes to heaven and who doesn’t, he never makes a mistake. He made the decision about Elvis 33 years ago today.

Whichever way it went, several family members do agree Elvis made heavenly music here on earth. Nate absolutely loved the music and owned every recording Elvis ever made, including the “rare” ones and the re-makes. He played them so much, they actually wore out and had to be repurchased again and again.

Nate, tone-deaf himself, used to ask me, “Does Elvis have a really good voice? I mean, by musical standards, is he a good singer?”

With the high expectations of his question and the raised eyebrows of hope, the only acceptable answer was, “He’s the best.”

Mom thought Elvis was a worldly influence devoid of Christian thinking, and Nate gently chided her about this, citing the many gospel recordings he’d made. They agreed to disagree, and Nate just laughed when she’d say, “I don’t know what you see in that guy.”

What Nate saw was a down-home person who recorded singable music and never lost his country charm. Elvis produced huge volumes of music and was, Nate claimed, the best-ever in many categories. Having a mind for numbers, he was always ready with statistics: Grammy nominations and awards, #1 recordings, earned income, posthumous income and anything else that set Elvis apart. He knew the biography of every person he ever employed and had a full repertoire of Elvis quotes. Although Nate knew the words to every Elvis song, his singing was only in-the-shower acceptable. He did do some fine speaking impressions, though.

Despite the fact that Elvis’ home, Graceland, is the second most visited house in the nation (after the White House), Nate had never been there. A couple of years ago our boys surprised him with a guys-only trip to the mansion and surrounding sites. Although Nate already owned quite a few pieces of Elvis memorabilia, he came home with even more, a copy of his driver’s license and death certificate included.

I remember the evening several years ago, long after Elvis had died, when Nate and I watched a TV special that tried to define Elvis’ spirituality. No one could confirm his beliefs one way or the other, but Nate knew of his childhood days in an Assembly of God church and was sure his heart was devoted to God. Nate also mentioned that Elvis had recorded most of his gospel songs after he’d said, “I never sing a song I don’t believe in.”

Nate had taken that statement at face value, saying, “Elvis sang ‘rock and soul’ music.”

After watching the TV special during which former band members and a hair dresser described Elvis’ continual search for spiritual truth, Nate felt sure the King of Rock and Roll was dwelling with the King of Kings.

Either way, Nate now knows the bottom line… unless of course Elvis is spotted tomorrow at the local Burger King.

“When the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy.” (Titus 3:4-5)