Promises

"Because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace." Luke 1:78-79 (NIV)

I saw this and immediately thought of papa.  His ninety-one and a half years on this earth has been lengthy.  I have no idea how long he has remaining, as there isn't a diagnosis that we have to go off of, but I know he's tired.  His body aches and the only thing that probably brings any type of joy to his confined life is the hope of heaven.  And what a promise he has in his heart.  

I don't see fear when I look into his eyes. There's a peace about him because he knows what awaits.  He knows there will be a grand reception and his soul will be set free from the body that is failing him in his old age.   He is ready.  He wants to be called home.  He wants God to usher him into the promised land.  He doesn't mind leaving behind the legacy he was a part of creating because his physical work here is done.

From bed, he prays diligently.  He prays with a steadfastness and conviction that only comes from knowing and believing in God.  He doesn't fear his death.  He welcomes it.  And that brings me comfort. . .knowing what a tender and loving God we have, that he would guide papa to the ultimate peace.  The peace we have all looked for our entire lives, but could not find until our final moment.  It will be a beautiful thing: his homecoming.  Until then, we will love him well.

Life in Your Years

"It's not the years of your life that count, but the life in your years."

We lost a great Aunt this weekend.  It wasn't a death I saw coming so soon.  Doctors initially said we had more time, but God had other plans.  Like it or not, it got me thinking about had we more time with her, would it really have been for her, or for us?  The answer is evident: us, of course.  

We are never prepared to say good bye to someone we love.  Could my Aunt Lupe have lived any better in extra days before the inevitable end?  I don't think so. There had already been so much life in her years.

"It's not the years of your life that count, but the life in your years."

I can still hear her voice.  Perhaps that is what I will miss most.  No, her laugh.  Her laugh is like her signature: unique.  She had this way of story telling that made you lean in to not miss a beat.  Her facial expressions and that voice were mesmerizing as a child, but their effects remained into adulthood.  She embodied a joyful spirit that I admired.  She dealt with tragedy: losing her brother, her niece, her daughter, and eventually her husband, yet none dulled her spirit. Or if they did, she never let on to me.  

And that meant the world to me:  someone who was so close to my Nana, only to have my mind boggled by her deep bouts of depression.  Our time together was often marred by her inability to get out of her bed, locked in her room for me to wonder what was wrong.  

My Aunt Lupe was at the kitchen table, loud, jovial, pan dulce, coffee, and cigarette in hand.  My Aunt was out and about, put together and doing life despite the hard hands she had been dealt.  My Aunt Lupe was present after I lost my Nana, a part of my wedding planning and china ordering.  

I'll never forget the way she threw my grandpa's blanket over her shoulder as she pranced down the aisle, laughing all the way.  

I'll never forget dancing with her and my Aunt Carmen on my wedding day.  The entire dance they poured into Ernie and I, telling us how proud my Nana was of me and how I deserved all the happiness in the world. And I believed them.  

I believed with everything in me how much I was loved by these two women.  

These two women were the closest thing to my Nana I would have on one of the biggest, most important days of my life.  

They stood in the gap and they were completely enough.

Aunt Lupe Sarinana, Aunt Carmen Morales, and Grandpa Shelby Gaul 4/6/2002

When I look at this picture, I can clearly see my Nana . My Aunts stood in the gap and made sure I knew she was there.

Saturday night I got to say thank you.
I got to tell her what her presence at our wedding meant to me.
I got to remind her that one of Anjalene's greatest memories was going to China Town with her great-great aunts and cousin Sandra. She did something  that I was a scaredy cat to do on my own!
I got to remind her in a whisper that my confirmation name was Sandra, after her daughter who left this world too soon. My aunt will always be a part of that story of my name.
I got the honor of praying over her a couple hours before she transitioned into our promised life of eternity.

What a privilege it was to be a part of her life, no matter how often I did or didn't see her.  She was my great aunt. She loved me and I loved her.  That is enough. Love will always be enough.

Death's Door

I remember one particularly trying year, hearing something about things coming in threes.  It was a season where funerals were one after another.  That was a long time ago, but recently three women I know of have succumbed to some kind of cancer or complications from the devastating disease.  Two of these younger than me.  Talk about pausing you in your tracks; taking stock of your life; and just plain questioning why bad things happen to good people!  It hurts my heart that each woman has left behind two kids.  Young kids.  Some of whom aren't even old enough to talk.  That breaks my heart because every child should know their mama's love. It should be tangible.  It should be readily available.  It should be on earth until they are old enough to know how to grieve, shouldn't it?

Exhale.  Recently my little health scare was enough to shake me up to really take stock of this life that I am blessed to be living.  I'm a bit of a pessimist, I must admit because in my head I thought to myself, why not me?  I've been privileged enough to live the life of my dreams, married to my best friend, with kids who are just amazing. . .so maybe my time here will be brief.  God has given me the best, spared my mom, and I will be the one we say good bye to early.  Not exactly joyful thoughts one should spend time dwelling on, so luckily I've moved on to more positive ones and counting my joys.  Thirty-three a day to be exact, which means by the end of this month, I will have a thousand.  A thousand gifts to reflect on His goodness in my life.  A thousand gifts to symbolize so much ordinary activity that is extraordinary only because of the way I choose to live it.

And that right there is what living is all about.  We all are living to die. And in dying because we believe, we know the story doesn't end in our death.  We believe in life after death with our Father who loves us most BUT it's how we live in the meantime that matters most.  It's the choices for how to live we make today that influence our tomorrows.  And while life here on earth with our families is what matters most, we sure don't always show it in our actions or through our words.  Let me say it again, how we live today is a choice that influences our tomorrows.  We don't want to live in regret, having wasted too long carrying burdens that weighted us down. We don't want to live with  anxiety breathing down our necks, or fear clouding our views.  We want to live today, while we still  have the chance.

Run if you can, don't just walk.  Feel the wind through your hair, the sun kissing your skin.  Breathe in deep gulps of gratitude, fresh, crisp November air because your lungs work, and it's lung cancer awareness month-and Jennifer can't anymore.  Notice the rise and fall of your chest.  The natural rhythm of what He created.  Stretch arms and eyes wide to the sky, paying attention to the leaves of trees changing colors in that moment.  When your little one talks, get down to their level, look deeply into their eyes so you can really get to see their heart.  Hug longer.  Linger over the ordinary moments and make them extraordinary--whatever that means to you because life is fragile.  And this is the only one you're given here on this earth, so live it.  Run the race of each day strong and finish well because only God knows when your race is over.  So, better to be ready, to love well  and well lived.  The choice is yours.

Gone

It should come as no surprise when people pass away.  I know it's all part of the circle of life.  I know God has a plan for each of us that includes our being born and our dying.  How we live in the meantime is just a part of our journey.  For those of us who believe, we know where we are going to end up and that is comforting if not exciting at the same time.  Heaven is a place we have only read about in the bible and imagined in our dreams.  It is our final destination after what we hope is a long life lived well.

Today I heard that a secretary I had used to work with passed away.  I haven't been on that particular campus in close to six years.  There's something about me and visiting my former schools. . .I don't tend to do so.  I think in the six years I had been gone, I took my dad a Starbucks once, causing me to walk the familiar campus with many unfamiliar faces.  And I visited when my daughter performed with the drama department, but that was generally after hours and on a drop off or drop in to the theater basis only.  I just wasn't one to visit and reflect on what I had left.  It was always good while I was there, until it wasn't and then I moved on.

But today when I tucked my oldest in and we prayed for Ofie's family, I could see her clearly sitting at her desk.  She was always so darn stylish and put together; cute hair, and great laugh and smile.  I loved passing through her office area when going to the guidance office. She always asked me about my kids. Always. She saw me through my first two pregnancies and she always asked about my babies.  Even when they weren't really babies, she called them that.  And she always listened and believed in my dream of wanting to be home with them.  Always.  She  encouraged me.  She smiled.  She laughed.  She asked about who was most important in my life and when we talked, she made me feel like they were that important to her too.  Oh, how she wanted to be a grandma!  She was so excited when her daughter was getting married because that meant she was one step closer to those grandbabies. . .and I'm not sure if that ever became a reality.  I sure hope so because that woman had so much love to give.  It makes me sad that she is no longer here.

I ache for her sister, who I randomly met a few years back through a mutual friend.  I knew they were sisters before I really even knew.  I could just tell.  They both had that look, that spark, that laugh.  Her family will not be the same without her, but I know where she is now.  She believed.  She loved God greatly and she lived a life that I'm happy I was able to be a part of for a little while.  And I just wanted to write down in my little book of memories and life lessons for my babies that Ofie was one of my original cheerleaders at the high school who encouraged me to be with you.  She supported me working if that's what I needed to do and she supported me at home if that's what we decided we could afford to do.  She would look at your little faces and say she saw so much of your dad. . .and she would laugh and smile and talk about how much she wanted to be a grandma. That's the Ofie I will always remember and I'll always be grateful to have known her for the time I did.  If only she could see you now. . .oh wait, she can: )  Heaven gained another angel today.