Monthly Archives: January 2011

The Happy Dance

Posted on by

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)

A Fresh Look

Posted on by

This afternoon the slanted sunshine of winter spilled through our windows. While the rest of the country gathered chips and dips in preparation for the Bears-Packers game, I decided to do something different: paint a couple of stools in the bright sunlight. They’d been primed for six months awaiting their finishing coat, and today was as good a day as any.

Though I don’t have TV, I could have listened to the game on the radio but chose worship music instead. Following football might have been a better idea, however, because when Nate’s favorite hymn, “Blessed Assurance,” came on, I got weepy. Even bright sunlight doesn’t help watery eyes see brush strokes very well.

Bagging the brush and picking up a hymnal, I decided to follow the words as the familiar song played. “Visions of rapture now burst on my sight. I in my Savior am happy and blest. Jesus is mine! O what a foretaste of glory divine!”

Although these words had run through Nate’s mind hundreds of times, their meaning for him now is completely different, more authentic, tangible. Something about that struck me. He was far away experiencing a life radically different than mine. We had much in common until 15 months ago, but now we share very little. Today I’m painting stools. What is he doing?

Sitting in front of me on the coffee table was the book my kids gave me in September, the story of Nate’s life in pictures and words. As precious old hymns played, I read through the book again, feeling intense sadness that Nate was gone. It’s been quite a while since I cried hard, but as I carefully studied his face, especially in the most recent pictures, holding back sobs was impossible.  

Oh to go back! I really miss him. Did I love him enough? Had I put him first? Could I have done more?

I… I… I.

It was self-pity for sure, which doesn’t do much for healing. If anything, it produces inertia. My crying was a good reason to ask God, “What would you like me to think right now?”

He answered with something he’d already told me. “Rejoice always. Pray continually. Give thanks in all circumstances.” (1 Thessalonians 5) I was thankful he brought that up again and gave me something positive to do immediately. Focusing back on the book, I continued weeping but this time found myself rejoicing in the picture-memories and being thankful for all Nate did as a husband and father.

When I came to the photo of Nate sitting in a wheelchair with severe pain on his face, I cried hard remembering his suffering but was enormously thankful for how courageously he bore his pain, a great accomplishment.

As the Bears and the Packers battled it out on the other side of Lake Michigan, the Lord and I sat together for two hours, listening to hymns, rejoicing, talking in prayer and remembering Nate with thankfulness.

Tomorrow, as the Bears nurse their wounds, I’ll finish painting the stools.

“My heart rejoices in the Lord! The Lord has made me strong. There is no Rock like our God.” (1 Samuel 2:1a,2b)

It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

Posted on by

God knew what he was doing when he led Nate and I to our Michigan cottage. Unbeknownst to us, the couple right next door would rescue us again and again. Bob and Linda have taken it upon themselves to help widows and others who need… well… just about anything.

Linda cooked monster-sized meals for our whole family throughout Nate’s days of illness. Then after he died, she lovingly coaxed me back into the world of people by repeatedly inviting me to her Bible study.

Bob is a jack of all trades and cheerfully tackles any problem with gusto. He often partners with his friend Gunnar, and the two of them make work look much like play. I’ll never forget the day they came to help when our power went out, the only house in the neighborhood to go dark. After trying all the usual tricks with our old fuse box, they discovered the power line from the house to the street had been strangled by tree bark. Thanks to their creative thinking, my power was restored that same hour.

 

Yesterday afternoon Bob and Gunnar brought my kitchen into the 21st century by installing a dishwasher. After five weeks of dishes-by-hand virtually around the clock while the 15 of us were together, I determined before the relatives returned, I’d have a dishwasher. It’s also possible the endless sickness we passed back and forth during those weeks would have been wiped out by sterilized dishes. At least that was a good excuse to go appliance shopping.

As they worked, I learned that installing a dishwasher requires creative plumbing and electrical skills, as well as a rib cage strong enough to lean on the sharp edge of an under-sink cabinet for a long, long time.

Occasionally I heard them say, “Oh oh,” or “What about this?” as they worked half-in and half-out of the cabinet. But when I asked if there was a problem, they laughed and said, “It’ll all be fine.” And it was.

The first time Bob and Gunnar fixed something for us years ago, I remember saying, “Thanks for the help. I’m sure you’d rather do other things with your afternoon.”

“This is what we like to do,” Bob said, an interesting answer.

Because they’ve solved problems for me again and again, I know it’s true. These men are retired, but not really. They’ve just shifted their work focus. Both love the Lord wholeheartedly and spend a great deal of time volunteering at the church and on outreach projects near and far.

They’ve been first responders to disaster scenes all over the world during their “retirement”, doing whatever needed doing when they got there. Although they’re happy to help the widow next door, they keep their passports handy, too. 

I see them as the hands and feet of Jesus, putting the interests of their neighbors ahead of their own. And best of all, they view the entire world as their neighborhood.

Lucky for me, today they chose to make it a beautiful day in my neighborhood.

“Jesus replied: ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself’.” (Matthew 22:37-38)