Good Things Come in Threes Too.

Good Things Come in Threes Too.

I was talking with some friends last night over dinner. We were discussing some crazy luck of a mutual friend the week before. It was one of those days where it goes from bad to comical and you either laugh or cry. You know, you spill a drink at dinner and ruin your clothes, then go buy a new dress to change into but get out your car and realize it will not start, and in investigating it, you ruin the new dress you just put on. All true for this friend and thankfully she laughed. One of my friends said as he was remembering the events, “Bad things come in threes!” It does seem that way often.

I was thinking about that this morning while talking to a colleague, Kim, about what an awful week she has had. I mean the work she does is hard even when it is good, but this week has been HARD. She has been on the front-lines, she is battle-worn, and she is weary and when I looked at her today, I could see it in her eyes. She is hurting for all those she has tried to help this week and asking herself, “Why couldn’t I do more? Why couldn’t AGAPE do more? Why is life so hard for so many?”

In her week, there was certainly three ‘bad things’ to list and more. There were mishaps in the systems causing delays and pains for her regular tasks. There were court appearances where the ruling went against our prayers (and we fear for the future for the kids). There was unexpected death leading to much sorrow, heartache and uncertainty for the child left behind.

She just left my office with tears in her eyes ‘cause it keeps getting worse. As I watched her walk away, I said a prayer of thanks. Not for all the hard things, but for the good things that are in the midst of the hard. I said a prayer of appreciation because God brought my new friend and colleague to AGAPE to work with us. Kim brings laughter in the door with her every morning and she brings joy to her calling of helping children and their parents. She is wise like a mentor, but giggles like a girl when she is having fun. Kim is a good thing.  

There was a foster family prepared to step-in immediately and help a young child during the most devastating time in his life-the death of a parent. He is without family, but a temporary family will care for him until he is reunited with his extended family. Foster Parents are a good thing. 

Kim has a job in Nashville where she can be near her grand kids, and Christians serve our community as foster parents because of an organization like AGAPE that exists to help families and children in the worst of circumstances and fills in the gap for many when there is no one else. There is hope, help, and healing because for 50+ years AGAPE has been doing this HARD-WORK. 

AGAPE is a good thing.

Good things come in threes too. 

#justwrite #thisisagape #goodthings

Things Change

It seems I always come back from a vacation with thoughts that will not leave me alone until I sort them out. I must organize them, label them, and leave them in order so I can reference them from time to time. That’s the way it is today…as I upload pictures from our beach trip, two words keep repeating themselves “Things change.” I’ve both said and heard said hundreds of times…”Things change.” Travel down a stretch of road you’ve not visited in a year or two – Things change. bump into a friend you remember from college – Things change. Compare photos of your kids from one beach trip to the next – Things change. Our attention is diverted with tasks and obligations until getting through the day turns into years. We are reminded by the obvious of our negligence to be in the moment, and all we can offer in defense is…”Things change.”

But really that is natural-those changes we confront because time passes and progress happens. But whats washing up like waves competing for my attention against my stacks of laundry tonight are the changes I don’t make allowances for-the ones that really catch me looking the other way.

This week while on vacation, I received a phone call from a dear friend about a tragic death in her family. I also recently received other email telling of a cancer diagnosis. Both of them were a shock to me. Have I not learned my lesson yet? Guess not. Things Change. Yes, they do – but not in years or months, sometimes daily. Not in manageable doses, but in unimagined pronouncements. Its not always on the calendar what the next day will bring-we should all know this by now.

So I have to ask myself should I just live in dread? Always expecting bad news? The answer can’t believe I asked the question.

Do not live in anticipation of the next crisis – Just Live! Just Live!

But really live. I mean don’t just live hoping to survive the next unexpected phone call…Live expecting to Thrive, to Bless, to Inhale Deeply, to Love Hard, to Move Forward, to Forgive everyone, to Cherish today. Because really what is the alternative “Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life?” (not me, not you).

I choose what to do with this day, this wild and fragile moment. Whatever I choose I can say for certain It will pass…Things change.

(Summer 2009)

#vacation #justwrite #thingschange

Lunch with Dementia

Mom paused, laying her fork in the middle of her potato salad otherwise untouched, and folded her napkin. She seemed to be looking at something out the window; maybe it was the white puppy playing at Beth’s, Mom’s neighbor and friend. Maybe it was the lilies in bloom along the property line, she planted years earlier when she and Dad first bought the place for their retirement. I looked in the direction of her stare to share in her sudden distraction but only saw the adjacent field. What was she seeing? Where was she? “Mom? You’re not hungry?” “Nothing seems to have any taste anymore,” she sighed.

Looking back, I know Mom was referring to more than the Chicken and Potato Salad. Life itself had become tasteless. Taking with it the recollections of precious, past details and recent conversations with friends and loved ones, the cruelties of dementia had stolen Mom’s joy for the day as well.

I saw across the table, a woman I’d known my whole life, and a woman I no longer knew. The expression she wore was one dimensional, much like the life-sized cutout of Dolly Parton we saw at the Tennessee State Line on our trip home from the mountains a few years ago. I feared the future for Mom and for us all at that moment. I knew there was no escaping from this fog, but yet I drove forward desperately hoping for the sun. The end would come slowly as the effects of dementia clawed its way through, shredding the essence of what used to be My Mother.

Me and Mom on her 75th Birthday Surprise Party
(She died unexpectedly 3 months later)

“What do you think I should do?” she asked, waking me from my own temporary departure from our lunch-talk. “I am sorry Mom, what were you asking?” She repeated her question about getting her dishwasher repaired or buying a new one. Suddenly we were back to Thursday on Hillside Drive at her kitchen table where we ate in familiarity as we had for years, and for the moment I am having lunch with my dear Mom. There would only be a few of those moments, I thought we would have more.

#dementia #aging #missingmom #justwrite