I came across the notes I had written down about Gram as I prepared to say a few words at her funeral this past January. It was tough to know exactly what to say, because she had been my lifelong mother, and we had shared so much through the years...
"Gram often relayed that she had wanted to be a teacher when she grew up, but God had called her to be a pastor's wife instead. What impressed me most about Gram was that she truly was the teacher she had always wanted to be, though not in a classroom.
She took me in when I was only eight months old. She taught me how to read and write, and how to tie my shoes. She even taught us girls at Boylston Home that we could learn to like our vegetables. More than the things she sat down to teach us, were the ways that her life helped us to learn lessons. By her life, she taught us things like courage, loyalty, trust, joy, and contentment. The most important lesson she taught us by her way of life was what it meant to love the Lord with all of one's life, heart and soul. She also taught us verses. She knew that the verses she quoted to us would remain in our hearts, even when she could no longer be with us. She taught us to pray, just as she taught us who Jesus was.
Even as she turned 98, she taught me that our spirits are not confined to our earthly bodies. Gram's spirit would soar to lofty heights in prayer, looking forward to the day when she would see Jesus face to face, even as she was confined to sit in her chair day after day.
Finally, Gram taught me how to let go toward the end as she would often speak with her eyes closed and her heart open. She spoke often of heaven. She talked of reunions. She taught me to hope for the day when we would be together again.
Though Gram was a very dear pastor's wife, she was the best teacher I ever had, and I will miss her terribly. May her lessons stay with us all as we continue forward in our own journeys."
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
In Loving Memory of Gram
Nearly a year ago, the first seeds for this blog were planted in my heart by Gram. As I wrote in my first post, Gram told me, "We must get the word out about God's love and share Him with others. That's why we're here!"
So much has changed since I first sat down to type at this same computer, praying that God would somehow work through Gram and myself as vessels for His use. The house, room, computer, chair, and probably even my wardrobe is unchanged, but Gram has gone on to her Eternal Home as is now praising the Lord face to face. I have grown as the experiences of love and loss have molded me into a more thoughtful and appreciative person. There have been nights when I have awakened, not knowing whether the noise I heard was Gram needing my help and then realized in the next instant that she is in Glory. I still love her. I continue to miss her. And yet, I realize the baton has been passed. It is my turn to run the race that is set before me, keeping my eyes on Jesus, the Author and Finisher of my faith. I am humbled that God chose me, among others, to be the ones who would take the baton from her.
Though time marches forward and days turn to memories quicker than we may want them to, Gram's theme remains central to my heart. She knew, at ninety-seven years old, that she and I were here to generously share God's love with others. It was her purpose, and it set my soul on fire. As I go through the rest of my life, it is my prayer that God will work in me and through me to continue on the path He chose for me the day Gram shared the joy of her existence. "That's why we're here!"
As a result of Gram's blog, I am also writing others, which are listed in the "about me" section. We all know Who these blogs are really about, though, don't we? I will continue to share thoughts and memories here, as well as some of Gram's own writing.
My newest blog is:
www.healingthelocustyears.blogspot.com
Though so much has changed in just a year's time, one promise remains steadfast:
Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and forever!
Thank you so much for letting me share my "Little Gram" with you!
So much has changed since I first sat down to type at this same computer, praying that God would somehow work through Gram and myself as vessels for His use. The house, room, computer, chair, and probably even my wardrobe is unchanged, but Gram has gone on to her Eternal Home as is now praising the Lord face to face. I have grown as the experiences of love and loss have molded me into a more thoughtful and appreciative person. There have been nights when I have awakened, not knowing whether the noise I heard was Gram needing my help and then realized in the next instant that she is in Glory. I still love her. I continue to miss her. And yet, I realize the baton has been passed. It is my turn to run the race that is set before me, keeping my eyes on Jesus, the Author and Finisher of my faith. I am humbled that God chose me, among others, to be the ones who would take the baton from her.
Though time marches forward and days turn to memories quicker than we may want them to, Gram's theme remains central to my heart. She knew, at ninety-seven years old, that she and I were here to generously share God's love with others. It was her purpose, and it set my soul on fire. As I go through the rest of my life, it is my prayer that God will work in me and through me to continue on the path He chose for me the day Gram shared the joy of her existence. "That's why we're here!"
As a result of Gram's blog, I am also writing others, which are listed in the "about me" section. We all know Who these blogs are really about, though, don't we? I will continue to share thoughts and memories here, as well as some of Gram's own writing.
My newest blog is:
www.healingthelocustyears.blogspot.com
Though so much has changed in just a year's time, one promise remains steadfast:
Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and forever!
Thank you so much for letting me share my "Little Gram" with you!
God Can Use That!
I just love my friend, Kathie. She and I get together for a weekly "prayer and share". Panicking, I told her when Guideposts called to let me know a photographer was coming for the photo shoot for my story. It seemed like the worst possible time for this!
I was in the middle of a physical battle that I seemed to be losing. Last summer, I received radiation to destroy my thyroid in an effort to put an end to a 15-plus year battle with Graves Disease. The thyroid affects the metabolism, along with virtually everything else in a person's body. Half my hair fell out. I packed on 40 pounds, even though the doctors kept adjusting my synthetic thyroid medicine, trying to find just the right dose. I had lost my job because I had what was called a Thyroid Storm, had to be put on heart pills to fend off a heart attack, and was rushed to the hospital three times, with a resting heart rate of nearly 200 beats per minute.
Though I came home to care for Gram, I was literally broke. I came home with the clothes on my back, and found that the meager belongings I had left here in NH were ruined in a basement flood.
After my radiation treatment, I began losing strength in the right side of my body. There were some days I could barely walk. I blamed everything on the radiation until I received an MRI. Referred to a neurologist, I was told there were several "spots" on my brain. The eventual diagnosis is Multiple Sclerosis, though there is really no difinitive test. The root cause of the Graves Disease, the MS, and the miscarriages is Autoimmune Disease. A phenomenon in which the body attacks itself.
I confided all this in Kathie, whining, "Why now, when I am struggling with all of this, my hair is still falling out in clumps, and I feel so fat?"
"God can use that!" she exclaimed with excitement.
Then, Kathie did something amazing. She gave me some clothes to wear for the "big day". She remained positive, where I was discouraged. She told me, "Everyone needs a girlfriend in times like these", dropping a huge bag of clothes on the living room floor.
Late at night, I would lie in my bed praying, "Please, God. Please, please, please find a way to make it possible for me to get my hair done. I also need a manicure. And some jewelry. You know I don't even have the money to grab something at the Dollar Store down the street. I'm so embarrassed. Every woman wants to feel pretty in a picture, and this picture is HUGE for me."
I did pray every night as the photo shoot loomed in the horizon. There were no gift baskets dropped down from heaven, and no rich uncle came forward. I determined in my heart that God must have a reason for me to go forward without the things I had so desperately prayed for. It could be that someone, somewhere might be able to relate to the thin-haired, chubby, plain, middle-aged lady that I was. And I clung to Kathie's certainty that, "God can use that!"
The day the photographer called to say he was coming an hour early, my daughter, Shelli, my son's girlfriend, Kay, and I giggled and tore around the house trying to neaten up and slap make-up on my face. Kay brought over a colorful sweater, Shelli artfully applied eye shadow, and I fumbled with Kay's hair straightener. About five hundred frames later, the photographer left.
Guideposts came in the mail the other day. I waited for it like a little kid at Christmas. I was still walking through the door after work as my son, Danny announced, "Mom, your magazine came, and they sooo "photo-shopped" you!"
Passing the magazine around, the kids and I poured over the photos. Did I look like that thin-haired, chubby, plain, middle-aged woman I was afraid of? Yes, I did, but my attention was drawn to the image of another woman on the pages, standing next to her husband, smiling.
She had white hair, no jewelry, no make-up, and was wearing a dress I had seen her in a million times before. She was my Gram, and she was lovely.
Suddenly, everything crashed into perspective as I realized that Gram's life was a thing of beauty. Flashy jewelry and a perfect manicure would have looked out of place on her snowy white skin. She had always been "just" Gram, yet to me, she was one of the most attractive women I have ever known.
When all was said and done, it all worked out the way it should have. The way God, in His wisdom, had planned it. I learned to be thankful for the opportunity to share my Gram with others, and her beauty was evident on each page. I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
I was in the middle of a physical battle that I seemed to be losing. Last summer, I received radiation to destroy my thyroid in an effort to put an end to a 15-plus year battle with Graves Disease. The thyroid affects the metabolism, along with virtually everything else in a person's body. Half my hair fell out. I packed on 40 pounds, even though the doctors kept adjusting my synthetic thyroid medicine, trying to find just the right dose. I had lost my job because I had what was called a Thyroid Storm, had to be put on heart pills to fend off a heart attack, and was rushed to the hospital three times, with a resting heart rate of nearly 200 beats per minute.
Though I came home to care for Gram, I was literally broke. I came home with the clothes on my back, and found that the meager belongings I had left here in NH were ruined in a basement flood.
After my radiation treatment, I began losing strength in the right side of my body. There were some days I could barely walk. I blamed everything on the radiation until I received an MRI. Referred to a neurologist, I was told there were several "spots" on my brain. The eventual diagnosis is Multiple Sclerosis, though there is really no difinitive test. The root cause of the Graves Disease, the MS, and the miscarriages is Autoimmune Disease. A phenomenon in which the body attacks itself.
I confided all this in Kathie, whining, "Why now, when I am struggling with all of this, my hair is still falling out in clumps, and I feel so fat?"
"God can use that!" she exclaimed with excitement.
Then, Kathie did something amazing. She gave me some clothes to wear for the "big day". She remained positive, where I was discouraged. She told me, "Everyone needs a girlfriend in times like these", dropping a huge bag of clothes on the living room floor.
Late at night, I would lie in my bed praying, "Please, God. Please, please, please find a way to make it possible for me to get my hair done. I also need a manicure. And some jewelry. You know I don't even have the money to grab something at the Dollar Store down the street. I'm so embarrassed. Every woman wants to feel pretty in a picture, and this picture is HUGE for me."
I did pray every night as the photo shoot loomed in the horizon. There were no gift baskets dropped down from heaven, and no rich uncle came forward. I determined in my heart that God must have a reason for me to go forward without the things I had so desperately prayed for. It could be that someone, somewhere might be able to relate to the thin-haired, chubby, plain, middle-aged lady that I was. And I clung to Kathie's certainty that, "God can use that!"
The day the photographer called to say he was coming an hour early, my daughter, Shelli, my son's girlfriend, Kay, and I giggled and tore around the house trying to neaten up and slap make-up on my face. Kay brought over a colorful sweater, Shelli artfully applied eye shadow, and I fumbled with Kay's hair straightener. About five hundred frames later, the photographer left.
Guideposts came in the mail the other day. I waited for it like a little kid at Christmas. I was still walking through the door after work as my son, Danny announced, "Mom, your magazine came, and they sooo "photo-shopped" you!"
Passing the magazine around, the kids and I poured over the photos. Did I look like that thin-haired, chubby, plain, middle-aged woman I was afraid of? Yes, I did, but my attention was drawn to the image of another woman on the pages, standing next to her husband, smiling.
She had white hair, no jewelry, no make-up, and was wearing a dress I had seen her in a million times before. She was my Gram, and she was lovely.
Suddenly, everything crashed into perspective as I realized that Gram's life was a thing of beauty. Flashy jewelry and a perfect manicure would have looked out of place on her snowy white skin. She had always been "just" Gram, yet to me, she was one of the most attractive women I have ever known.
When all was said and done, it all worked out the way it should have. The way God, in His wisdom, had planned it. I learned to be thankful for the opportunity to share my Gram with others, and her beauty was evident on each page. I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
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