I am not SuperMom.
I mean...I am super and I am a mom, but I am not SuperMom. You know, the woman who flies around with a cape, does everything with a smile and has boundless energy.
Most days, I concentrate on what is the next thing I need to do and how I'm going to get there with the least amount of energy spent so that I can fall into bed at night, wondering how I got so little done. I do try to do it all with a smile and a kind word to all those around me, but ... well, sometimes I don't do so well with that. My buttons get pushed. I forget to be thankful. I have so many small interruptions that frequently I feel so scattered and discombobulated I can't even move the muscles on my face into anything other than a look of sheer frustration.
And while I am working on that and I'm learning to do things from a thankful heart rather than an overwhelmed-by-life attitude, I am still not SuperMom.
It doesn't happen as often as it used to now that we got rid of "the punisher" (subject for another post), but I have yelled at my kids. And interestingly enough, since we got rid of that same thing, my house has gotten messier.
But here's the deal, I hear a lot from other women: "I don't know how you do all that you do."
I don't either, but I do know that it's not because I am SuperMom. Truth be told, I don't know how you do all that you do either. Know why? Because I am not supposed to know. I'm only supposed to be able to do what God has told me to do, not what you are doing.
And there's this jealousy and comparison thing that is rampant among women, Christian or not, and it is eating our lunch. It keeps us from connecting deeply and keeps us in a constant state of self-examination/self-deprecation that's neither healthy nor godly.
You see, God says to each of us: "Who have I called you to be today?" but if we're so busy looking at others to try to figure out who/what/why about ourselves, we are going to miss out on the greatest, most glorious, most fulfilling adventure on this planet: bringing God the most glory by being fully alive, fully engaged, fully the individual that God has created each of us to be.
I've suffered from this. I still suffer from it, less than I used to, but it still crops it's ugly head up.
But I'm determined to fight this thing off. I've decided that when jealousy whispers in my ear I'm going to ask Papa God what is it I'm lacking confidence in that He's wanting to speak to me about. I've decided that when I see someone gifted and talented in something where I feel I lack I'm going to bless that image-of-God-shining-through moment in her and quit wondering why I can't be more like that.
It is good to have role models, and it is good to look up to people and desire to emulate virtuous traits we see. It is not ok, though, to feel less-than or less-gifted or less-talented or less-amazing when we see the glory of God shining in someone's life.
You know that's what it is, right? Those things you admire in other women are glimpses into who God is as revealed in each one's unique expression. So when we walk in jealousy and comparison, we are missing opportunities to worship God for His goodness, His beauty and creativity, displayed through His creation.
Yikes.
Next time you see another woman (or, if you're a man reading this, apply it to your own issues with other men or encourage your wife or girl friends in this) and feel the urge to criticize her or yourself for not being more like her ask God these questions: "God, how is Your glory being displayed in her life? What characteristic of Yourself are You revealing to me through her?" and then worship. Worship God for Who He is and how He's created her to display His glory in this moment and time. Then ask Him, "God, how do I display Your glory best? What characteristic of Yourself are you revealing to others through me?"
I can't wait to hear what He tells you.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Sunday, December 11, 2011
How am I going to make it in the busy days ahead?
That is, essentially, what I asked God this morning. And this was His reply:
Thanksgiving is going to be the key to staying in close connection with Me. Thanksgiving positions you to hear My voice and to receive My direction in every situation. Remembering past exploits and giving thanks bring your thoughts, that stray so easily, into alignment with Me.
Give thanks. And again I say, Give thanks!
For your light and momentary troubles are working for you a righteousness that outshines the s-u-n and releases in you the brilliance of the S-O-N.
Thanksgiving paves the way to a life continually lived out in My presence. Enter My gates with thanksgiving and My courts with praise. Thanksgiving gets you in the gate and helps you get in touch with the greater reality of Who I am in your situation.
Thank Me for the air you breath. Thank Me for the song you sing. Thank Me for the clothes you wear and the shoes on your feet and the food on your table and the abundance of My blessing that you have not seen yet.
Don't turn your gaze from Me. Keep words of thanksgiving in your heart. And on your lips...thanksgiving. When you focus on your lack or on what I have not done yet, you throw up a wall around your heart that keeps you from receiving the strength I have for you in trying times and severely limits your ability to see the truth of Who I am in your life.
Knowing who I am will give you renewed perspective on the wind and waves in your life. You will no longer fear them or shrink into self-pity and victimization. No - through the discipline of a lifestyle of thanksgiving, you will rise above every circumstance in your life.
You will stand on top of every wall of defeat and despair and discouragement and depression, and you will see My hope rising on you, and you will know the hope to which I have called you. You will bask in the light of My glorious presence, of My Son, and you will rest, and you will know that I am God and that your problems are nothing compared to the Solution that you already carry within you: My precious and powerful Holy Spirit.
That same power that raised Jesus from the dead is alive and active in you to bring you to a place of hope where there is no hope, a place of peace where there is no peace, a place of dwelling continually in My Presence through a life lived in perpetual thanksgiving which keeps you always aware of Who I am, what I have done, what I am doing and builds strength and faith in you to wait patiently and expectantly for the things I have yet to do.
Thanksgiving is going to be the key to staying in close connection with Me. Thanksgiving positions you to hear My voice and to receive My direction in every situation. Remembering past exploits and giving thanks bring your thoughts, that stray so easily, into alignment with Me.
Give thanks. And again I say, Give thanks!
For your light and momentary troubles are working for you a righteousness that outshines the s-u-n and releases in you the brilliance of the S-O-N.
Thanksgiving paves the way to a life continually lived out in My presence. Enter My gates with thanksgiving and My courts with praise. Thanksgiving gets you in the gate and helps you get in touch with the greater reality of Who I am in your situation.
Thank Me for the air you breath. Thank Me for the song you sing. Thank Me for the clothes you wear and the shoes on your feet and the food on your table and the abundance of My blessing that you have not seen yet.
Don't turn your gaze from Me. Keep words of thanksgiving in your heart. And on your lips...thanksgiving. When you focus on your lack or on what I have not done yet, you throw up a wall around your heart that keeps you from receiving the strength I have for you in trying times and severely limits your ability to see the truth of Who I am in your life.
Knowing who I am will give you renewed perspective on the wind and waves in your life. You will no longer fear them or shrink into self-pity and victimization. No - through the discipline of a lifestyle of thanksgiving, you will rise above every circumstance in your life.
You will stand on top of every wall of defeat and despair and discouragement and depression, and you will see My hope rising on you, and you will know the hope to which I have called you. You will bask in the light of My glorious presence, of My Son, and you will rest, and you will know that I am God and that your problems are nothing compared to the Solution that you already carry within you: My precious and powerful Holy Spirit.
That same power that raised Jesus from the dead is alive and active in you to bring you to a place of hope where there is no hope, a place of peace where there is no peace, a place of dwelling continually in My Presence through a life lived in perpetual thanksgiving which keeps you always aware of Who I am, what I have done, what I am doing and builds strength and faith in you to wait patiently and expectantly for the things I have yet to do.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Labyrinth
Cold. Windy. Leaves dance over lawn of stately, majestic, academic stone buildings. Aged window panes reflect retreating light.
I enter the prayer labyrinth, my hands tucked deep into pockets, and I begin to pray, to center myself as I walk to find The Center.
Others join me in silence, spaced out along the path, each one entering his/her own secret place with God. We crunch leaves beneath our feet.
I glance around, wondering if I'm doing this right. I remind myself that maybe there is no "right" way and continue on. Clumps of leaves obscure the path boundaries, so I kick at them, looking for embedded bricks that shape the way.
Pausing, I attempt to empty thoughts except to remember, to thank. Continuing on, the path turns outwards instead of inwards as I am expecting. A sliver of doubt pierces the peace within. I turn around, thinking perhaps I've missed the path somehow. But, no, there the bricks that shape the way mark the path, an outward turn.
A deep breath.
Another pause.
Steps to continue on this path that is taking me to The Center in unexpected turns in then out.
Each time the turn goes inward, I breath an inward sigh of relief. I know the point is to go deeper in, and assurance that I'm led aright strengthens in my heart. With each outward turn, the doubt returns. This feels somehow incorrect. It's deeper in, not farther out, I need to go to find The Center.
Insecurities rise.
I look around at others on the path, hoping to gain some insight into how to do this right.
And then a whispered word to me, "Why do you doubt the path before you?"
"I doubt because it's not right. I'm supposed to be going further in, not further out. I must've done something wrong. I think I missed a turn back there or crossed a boundary line obscured by leaves and grass," I reason.
"Who says going out is not also going in?" the gentle reply comes.
And then I see the doubt and worry, energy squandered when trust was required.
The revelation of the labyrinth of life that wanders in and wanders out and each inward pass I perceive as "right" and each outward one is perhaps erroneously marked as "wrong."
I start to smile; this analogy of life comes unexpected. All this time the outward turns have brought fear and doubt of something wrong. I've turned back, retraced steps to find the place where I belong. And usually, with time and toil, another inward turn arrives.
I think, "Ah, I've found the way again" but maybe, just maybe the path was beneath my feet all along. I just thought out was bad and in was good.
A shift in thinking now occurs.
The inward times are equipping times, new tools released and strategies defined for coming seasons in my life.
The outward times are for walking out, for one must pass outward again to use and strengthen new tools in hands.
And then my feet reach the center of prayer labyrinth and I smile to find The Center. I breathe a sigh of relief. Unexpected lesson in this short journey brings words of praise and thanksgiving to my lips.
I stand and marvel, now freer, now bursting, now more peace, now more resting.
How thankful am I to have this story, a rock of remembrance in my heart. This spiritual journey of mine mirrored in this ancient design. I hope to remember in this life-long journey to The Center to trust the steps leading out are bringing me inward just like the ones leading in.
Scarritt Bennet Labyrinth
I enter the prayer labyrinth, my hands tucked deep into pockets, and I begin to pray, to center myself as I walk to find The Center.
Others join me in silence, spaced out along the path, each one entering his/her own secret place with God. We crunch leaves beneath our feet.
I glance around, wondering if I'm doing this right. I remind myself that maybe there is no "right" way and continue on. Clumps of leaves obscure the path boundaries, so I kick at them, looking for embedded bricks that shape the way.
Pausing, I attempt to empty thoughts except to remember, to thank. Continuing on, the path turns outwards instead of inwards as I am expecting. A sliver of doubt pierces the peace within. I turn around, thinking perhaps I've missed the path somehow. But, no, there the bricks that shape the way mark the path, an outward turn.
A deep breath.
Another pause.
Steps to continue on this path that is taking me to The Center in unexpected turns in then out.
Each time the turn goes inward, I breath an inward sigh of relief. I know the point is to go deeper in, and assurance that I'm led aright strengthens in my heart. With each outward turn, the doubt returns. This feels somehow incorrect. It's deeper in, not farther out, I need to go to find The Center.
Insecurities rise.
I look around at others on the path, hoping to gain some insight into how to do this right.
And then a whispered word to me, "Why do you doubt the path before you?"
"I doubt because it's not right. I'm supposed to be going further in, not further out. I must've done something wrong. I think I missed a turn back there or crossed a boundary line obscured by leaves and grass," I reason.
"Who says going out is not also going in?" the gentle reply comes.
And then I see the doubt and worry, energy squandered when trust was required.
The revelation of the labyrinth of life that wanders in and wanders out and each inward pass I perceive as "right" and each outward one is perhaps erroneously marked as "wrong."
I start to smile; this analogy of life comes unexpected. All this time the outward turns have brought fear and doubt of something wrong. I've turned back, retraced steps to find the place where I belong. And usually, with time and toil, another inward turn arrives.
I think, "Ah, I've found the way again" but maybe, just maybe the path was beneath my feet all along. I just thought out was bad and in was good.
A shift in thinking now occurs.
The inward times are equipping times, new tools released and strategies defined for coming seasons in my life.
The outward times are for walking out, for one must pass outward again to use and strengthen new tools in hands.
And then my feet reach the center of prayer labyrinth and I smile to find The Center. I breathe a sigh of relief. Unexpected lesson in this short journey brings words of praise and thanksgiving to my lips.
I stand and marvel, now freer, now bursting, now more peace, now more resting.
How thankful am I to have this story, a rock of remembrance in my heart. This spiritual journey of mine mirrored in this ancient design. I hope to remember in this life-long journey to The Center to trust the steps leading out are bringing me inward just like the ones leading in.
Scarritt Bennet Labyrinth
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Saturday, October 1, 2011
for 17 years: the big day...i-10
August 6th dawned bright and clear, preceded by a fun night with family and friends at our rehearsal dinner, preceded by all manner of showers and parties to equip us with tools to build a home and a life together.
We had premarital counseling with our pastor and an elder couple in our church. We went to an Engaged Encounter weekend through the Catholic Diocese of Dallas. We're actually not Catholic but had heard really good things about the marriage preparation weekend offered by the Catholic Church. I recommend it to every engaged couple I meet. So, so good.
We made it through the planning and the preparation and now were at the moment of execution.
Yep, that's right --- execution. The death of our old lives, our singleness, our selfish ways of living...
We had family and friends from out of town. I even had friends from my heartland of Spain attend, so we had a bi-lingual service, incorporating the help of my Puerto Rican friends.
The service itself was beautiful...so many people cooperating to make our day special - from the music to the flowers to the food...each part was a personal reflection of our lives and the people who loved us.
The best part of the service was when Lee sat down at the piano to play our song. Reminding the crowd that we were now married and that this was now a party (!), he played out the melody and sang to me as I stood by his side.
Then he rose, took my hand, and off we went down the aisle, now husband and wife.
After a flurry of pictures, we were off to the reception where we were greeted and loved on by our many guests. The food was good, the cake magnificent, and I was married to the best man in the whole world. It couldn't get much better than that.
Then finally the time came for us to depart in our blue Chevy pick up, decorated in typical fashion w/ shoe polish and streamers. Rice was thrown, more pictures taken, and with a wave, we were off to begin our new life together.
Next: married life
[i-1] [i-2] [i-3][i-4] [i-5] [i-6] [i-7] [i-8] [i-9]
We had premarital counseling with our pastor and an elder couple in our church. We went to an Engaged Encounter weekend through the Catholic Diocese of Dallas. We're actually not Catholic but had heard really good things about the marriage preparation weekend offered by the Catholic Church. I recommend it to every engaged couple I meet. So, so good.
We made it through the planning and the preparation and now were at the moment of execution.
Yep, that's right --- execution. The death of our old lives, our singleness, our selfish ways of living...
We had family and friends from out of town. I even had friends from my heartland of Spain attend, so we had a bi-lingual service, incorporating the help of my Puerto Rican friends.
The service itself was beautiful...so many people cooperating to make our day special - from the music to the flowers to the food...each part was a personal reflection of our lives and the people who loved us.
The best part of the service was when Lee sat down at the piano to play our song. Reminding the crowd that we were now married and that this was now a party (!), he played out the melody and sang to me as I stood by his side.
Then he rose, took my hand, and off we went down the aisle, now husband and wife.
After a flurry of pictures, we were off to the reception where we were greeted and loved on by our many guests. The food was good, the cake magnificent, and I was married to the best man in the whole world. It couldn't get much better than that.
Then finally the time came for us to depart in our blue Chevy pick up, decorated in typical fashion w/ shoe polish and streamers. Rice was thrown, more pictures taken, and with a wave, we were off to begin our new life together.
Next: married life
[i-1] [i-2] [i-3][i-4] [i-5] [i-6] [i-7] [i-8] [i-9]
Friday, September 30, 2011
for 17 years: wedding details...i-9
So, we set the wedding date for August 6th and began to get down to details.
Groomsmen and bridesmaids to notify. Colors to choose. A dress to find. Food. Cake. Photographer. Invitations. Guest list. Music. Musicians. Other participants.
I also needed to finish school and graduate. Funny how all of my classes suddenly lost priority and I got my first B in Spanish. Sheesh. The things love will do to a girl. ;-)
Our parents were great. My mom helped me endlessly, making phone calls, tracking down reception food, setting up appointments, helping me make decisions, etc. Lee's mom made our pew bows - huge, beautiful bows that took lots of time and patience to make. Our dads did the dad thing and handed us the checkbook. Ha!
[Interestingly, both sets of parents celebrated 25 years of marriage the year we got married. That seemed like such a long time back then. Now it is within sight which also means one of our children could have a wedding going on in not too many years...Help!]
Lee decided to compose the bulk of the music for our wedding - processional, recessional, etc. His buddies from trombone choir played the song for me to walk down the aisle to and other musically talented friends played a piece for woodwind quartet. Lee opted to play the song he wrote for me himself (the highlight of the wedding, to be sure!).
I don't remember too many stressful moments leading up to our big day. There was some tension when we went to register...Lee thought we should register for a computer and be done with it...forget the china and towels and bedding and household items. I adamantly vetoed that idea.
Next: the big day
[i-1] [i-2] [i-3][i-4] [i-5] [i-6] [i-7] [i-8]
Groomsmen and bridesmaids to notify. Colors to choose. A dress to find. Food. Cake. Photographer. Invitations. Guest list. Music. Musicians. Other participants.
I also needed to finish school and graduate. Funny how all of my classes suddenly lost priority and I got my first B in Spanish. Sheesh. The things love will do to a girl. ;-)
Our parents were great. My mom helped me endlessly, making phone calls, tracking down reception food, setting up appointments, helping me make decisions, etc. Lee's mom made our pew bows - huge, beautiful bows that took lots of time and patience to make. Our dads did the dad thing and handed us the checkbook. Ha!
[Interestingly, both sets of parents celebrated 25 years of marriage the year we got married. That seemed like such a long time back then. Now it is within sight which also means one of our children could have a wedding going on in not too many years...Help!]
Lee decided to compose the bulk of the music for our wedding - processional, recessional, etc. His buddies from trombone choir played the song for me to walk down the aisle to and other musically talented friends played a piece for woodwind quartet. Lee opted to play the song he wrote for me himself (the highlight of the wedding, to be sure!).
I don't remember too many stressful moments leading up to our big day. There was some tension when we went to register...Lee thought we should register for a computer and be done with it...forget the china and towels and bedding and household items. I adamantly vetoed that idea.
Next: the big day
[i-1] [i-2] [i-3][i-4] [i-5] [i-6] [i-7] [i-8]
Thursday, September 29, 2011
...we resume your regularly scheduled program
Wow. I did not expect blogging to get derailed for so long. My apologies to those of you waiting with baited breath for the next installment of the Lee-Heather story ([i-1] [i-2] [i-3][i-4] [i-5] [i-6] [i-7]). I'll get right back to that.
We had a delightful 17th anniversary celebration in Austin - dinner at Zocalos followed by dessert on the roof of the flagship Whole Foods store ending with a walk down 6th street where we were stopped and asked to please dance "the Bernie" for a video scavenger hunt...
Then a week at Laity Lodge Family Camp where we relaxed and reconnected as a family while enjoying the Frio River Canyon and all the fun that family camp just is. (Red-Neck Games? Heck, yeah!)
Upon our return from camp, Lee's mom took a real downturn. We knew that her health was deteriorating rapidly and that we might even get a call during camp. But she held out until we got back. Suzanne got to watch a few Shirley Temple clips with her. We sang hymns to her, prayed over her, and said our good-byes...not sure which day would be our last with her.
Finally on Wednesday, August 17th, she peacefully stepped out of here and into the arms of Jesus. The kids and I had stopped by earlier that morning as the hospice nurse had alerted Lee to a change in breathing that indicated the time of her passing was most likely hours away. We cried as we prayed one last time with her, holding her hand and reeassuring her once again of our love for her.
Then we went swimming.
It's strange, but that is indeed where we went. Heavy hearts, wondering if maybe we should have stayed, but kids have a way of helping life to keep moving, so live we did.
On our way home, Lee called. Said it was over. Lee, his brother, his sister, and his dad were all with her as she slipped away. She was surrounded by those she loved most.
Thus began the next stage of grief. We had all been grieving for quite some time as she gradually lost mobility and memory. But there's just something about the finality of death. Lee and I both remarked that while we knew intellectually, short of a miracle, she was not ever going to recover to her former self, it wasn't until she died that we realized that we had held a bit of hope that she just might.
We had lots of family time together...telling stories, laughing, planning her service, remembering, connecting and reconnecting.
We miss her.
So, next post will be the continuation of our story, but to close I leave you with the eulogy I had the honor of giving at my mother-in-law's memorial service:
Bonnie Sue Stulken Harbaugh, or GeeMa as the grandkids affectionately call her, was one of the kindest, most loving people I have ever known and I am so blessed to have had her as my mother-in-law.
I know that there are many mother-in-law horror stories, but I have none of those to tell. You see, if Bonnie was anything, she was gracious and hospitable to all who had occasion to cross her doorstep. Whether it was Sunday dinner or a Thanksgiving meal or Christmas Day, she had a knack for making you feel welcomed, loved and part of the family. She wanted everyone to feel included and that most often happened in her kitchen and around her table.
I remember one of the first times I went over for Sunday dinner. She fixed a roast with potatoes and carrots, probably green beans with dill, maybe a jello salad, and some sort of delicious dessert coupled with Blue Bell ice cream…funny, when we were sitting around this week talking about our memories of Bonnie, many of them revolved around the food she would serve: buckeyes, More, Bagel Bites, Pizza, trash, popovers, cornbread dressing…
She loved to have people over. She loved to celebrate birthdays, holidays, and normal days. Even when she worked 12 hour days, she still delighted to host gatherings and knew which foods were must haves and was sure to carve out time to make them from scratch. She always had a yellow notepad with her list of things to do and the timeline carefully noted in her neat handwriting, so that each detail would be taken care of.
Time and time again she demonstrated a life of selfless giving. I watched first as she loved her sons, encouraging them in their interests (well, mostly – I think bull riding as a career stretched her a bit), embracing their friends and welcoming all of us into her home with open arms, welcoming me into her heart as she realized I was the special someone in her son’s life.
I watched her as she made 40+ bows, loop after loop formed by hands already tired from a day of wrapping gifts and making bows for customer’s packages. These bows beautifully adorned the pews on our wedding day.
I watched her as she cared for her sister, quick to be by her side no matter what. I watched her love her father, inviting him to live with them as it became necessary for him to not live alone anymore.
I watched her love her husband, working side-by-side with him for countless hours, miming turning the volume knob when he was getting a little loud (although the Harbaughs really only know one volume), always respecting, always loving, always kind, always gracious, nary a contrary word between the two.
I watched her faithfully, graciously serve the customers at the mail store, wrapping each gift with great care and artistic flare, carefully typing documents, patiently explaining cost of shipping and time til delivery. I watched her serve the kind ones and the not so kind ones (the ones that came in at closing and wanted their packages wrapped and shipped yesterday) without so much of a complaint or negative word about them.
I watched her fall in love with each grandchild that came into her world. With each pregnancy of mine, she would exclaim her joy at adding another grandchild and told me she would always welcome more. I never felt criticized or judged, though oftentimes the choices for our family were different from what she knew or grew up with. She embraced me the same way she embraced her own, always treating me as a daughter…not just a daughter-in-law.
She loved carrying on the Friday night pizza tradition with her grandkids. She encouraged each one with words and actions, always seeming to know which little toy from her run to the grocery store would be successful with the grandkids. She understood the importance of every child having a gift to open at birthday parties – not just the birthday child. She would get down on the floor and play with the kids or read to them. She let them take turns spending the night, serving fun snacks like cheezits with marshmallows, putting a little bell by the bed so that she could be summoned if something was needed during the night.
I watched as her health began to decline and she needed more and more assistance with everyday tasks. I watched as care givers would perform the most private of tasks and she would thank each one for their ministrations. Even when speaking became more difficult, it was rare for her to not express her appreciation for the care given her.
And as I watched, I have learned. I have learned that in the end, a life lived in selfless service to those around me is indeed a life well-lived. I am confident that as Bonnie stepped from this world into the arms of Jesus, He said to her: Well done, my good and faithful servant. You did nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. In humility you valued others above yourself and looked to the interests of others rather than your own. Well done. Well done.
We miss her. We miss her laugh, her “whoohoo”, her songs and her stories…the meals around the table. But I know that she now is healed and whole in the presence of the One she served so faithfully with her whole life. And I encourage each us of to carry on her legacy of loving, giving and serving that we might honor her memory until the day we meet again in Heaven.
We had a delightful 17th anniversary celebration in Austin - dinner at Zocalos followed by dessert on the roof of the flagship Whole Foods store ending with a walk down 6th street where we were stopped and asked to please dance "the Bernie" for a video scavenger hunt...
Then a week at Laity Lodge Family Camp where we relaxed and reconnected as a family while enjoying the Frio River Canyon and all the fun that family camp just is. (Red-Neck Games? Heck, yeah!)
Upon our return from camp, Lee's mom took a real downturn. We knew that her health was deteriorating rapidly and that we might even get a call during camp. But she held out until we got back. Suzanne got to watch a few Shirley Temple clips with her. We sang hymns to her, prayed over her, and said our good-byes...not sure which day would be our last with her.
Finally on Wednesday, August 17th, she peacefully stepped out of here and into the arms of Jesus. The kids and I had stopped by earlier that morning as the hospice nurse had alerted Lee to a change in breathing that indicated the time of her passing was most likely hours away. We cried as we prayed one last time with her, holding her hand and reeassuring her once again of our love for her.
Then we went swimming.
It's strange, but that is indeed where we went. Heavy hearts, wondering if maybe we should have stayed, but kids have a way of helping life to keep moving, so live we did.
On our way home, Lee called. Said it was over. Lee, his brother, his sister, and his dad were all with her as she slipped away. She was surrounded by those she loved most.
Thus began the next stage of grief. We had all been grieving for quite some time as she gradually lost mobility and memory. But there's just something about the finality of death. Lee and I both remarked that while we knew intellectually, short of a miracle, she was not ever going to recover to her former self, it wasn't until she died that we realized that we had held a bit of hope that she just might.
We had lots of family time together...telling stories, laughing, planning her service, remembering, connecting and reconnecting.
We miss her.
So, next post will be the continuation of our story, but to close I leave you with the eulogy I had the honor of giving at my mother-in-law's memorial service:
Bonnie Sue Stulken Harbaugh, or GeeMa as the grandkids affectionately call her, was one of the kindest, most loving people I have ever known and I am so blessed to have had her as my mother-in-law.
I know that there are many mother-in-law horror stories, but I have none of those to tell. You see, if Bonnie was anything, she was gracious and hospitable to all who had occasion to cross her doorstep. Whether it was Sunday dinner or a Thanksgiving meal or Christmas Day, she had a knack for making you feel welcomed, loved and part of the family. She wanted everyone to feel included and that most often happened in her kitchen and around her table.
I remember one of the first times I went over for Sunday dinner. She fixed a roast with potatoes and carrots, probably green beans with dill, maybe a jello salad, and some sort of delicious dessert coupled with Blue Bell ice cream…funny, when we were sitting around this week talking about our memories of Bonnie, many of them revolved around the food she would serve: buckeyes, More, Bagel Bites, Pizza, trash, popovers, cornbread dressing…
She loved to have people over. She loved to celebrate birthdays, holidays, and normal days. Even when she worked 12 hour days, she still delighted to host gatherings and knew which foods were must haves and was sure to carve out time to make them from scratch. She always had a yellow notepad with her list of things to do and the timeline carefully noted in her neat handwriting, so that each detail would be taken care of.
Time and time again she demonstrated a life of selfless giving. I watched first as she loved her sons, encouraging them in their interests (well, mostly – I think bull riding as a career stretched her a bit), embracing their friends and welcoming all of us into her home with open arms, welcoming me into her heart as she realized I was the special someone in her son’s life.
I watched her as she made 40+ bows, loop after loop formed by hands already tired from a day of wrapping gifts and making bows for customer’s packages. These bows beautifully adorned the pews on our wedding day.
I watched her as she cared for her sister, quick to be by her side no matter what. I watched her love her father, inviting him to live with them as it became necessary for him to not live alone anymore.
I watched her love her husband, working side-by-side with him for countless hours, miming turning the volume knob when he was getting a little loud (although the Harbaughs really only know one volume), always respecting, always loving, always kind, always gracious, nary a contrary word between the two.
I watched her faithfully, graciously serve the customers at the mail store, wrapping each gift with great care and artistic flare, carefully typing documents, patiently explaining cost of shipping and time til delivery. I watched her serve the kind ones and the not so kind ones (the ones that came in at closing and wanted their packages wrapped and shipped yesterday) without so much of a complaint or negative word about them.
I watched her fall in love with each grandchild that came into her world. With each pregnancy of mine, she would exclaim her joy at adding another grandchild and told me she would always welcome more. I never felt criticized or judged, though oftentimes the choices for our family were different from what she knew or grew up with. She embraced me the same way she embraced her own, always treating me as a daughter…not just a daughter-in-law.
She loved carrying on the Friday night pizza tradition with her grandkids. She encouraged each one with words and actions, always seeming to know which little toy from her run to the grocery store would be successful with the grandkids. She understood the importance of every child having a gift to open at birthday parties – not just the birthday child. She would get down on the floor and play with the kids or read to them. She let them take turns spending the night, serving fun snacks like cheezits with marshmallows, putting a little bell by the bed so that she could be summoned if something was needed during the night.
I watched as her health began to decline and she needed more and more assistance with everyday tasks. I watched as care givers would perform the most private of tasks and she would thank each one for their ministrations. Even when speaking became more difficult, it was rare for her to not express her appreciation for the care given her.
And as I watched, I have learned. I have learned that in the end, a life lived in selfless service to those around me is indeed a life well-lived. I am confident that as Bonnie stepped from this world into the arms of Jesus, He said to her: Well done, my good and faithful servant. You did nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. In humility you valued others above yourself and looked to the interests of others rather than your own. Well done. Well done.
We miss her. We miss her laugh, her “whoohoo”, her songs and her stories…the meals around the table. But I know that she now is healed and whole in the presence of the One she served so faithfully with her whole life. And I encourage each us of to carry on her legacy of loving, giving and serving that we might honor her memory until the day we meet again in Heaven.
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