Where Life Intersects Death

This is another post totally feelings-driven, not theology-driven.  As in, these are sort of my gut feelings, not tempered by what I believe, beyond what I feel, to be true.  Maybe I'll have a post soon about what I know to be true, but in the moment, you're getting more feelings.  These days, I have a lot of them.

Today I cried (with much effort, silently) through a funeral, while thinking also of another funeral for a dear friend that I won't be able to attend.  I would vastly prefer to cry by myself in a closet where no one but Jesus sees and knows about it.  I really resist the public-ness of memorials and funerals, though I was glad to be there today.  I keep seeing all these little details of life and being disturbed by the way life intersects death.

There is something about funerals that makes everything seem (at the least) irreverent or (at the most) obscene.  Here are a few examples, some from today, and some fresh in my mind from other occasions.


Getting dressed--is it wrong to wear eyeliner to a funeral?


Nirvana on the radio, "Smells Like Teen Spirit," on the drive to the church.


The sun shining on a beautiful day.


That family walking their dogs behind the sanctuary--don't they know someone died?


Cookies in the hallway, the smell of sandwiches and too-bright yellow of lemonade.


Discussing traffic with fellow late-comers.


"How are you doing?"  Well.  I'm at a funeral, how are you?


Chapped lips.


The body inside the coffin just below the podium where people spoke about the person who is, and is not, inside.  


Dragonfly tangling briefly in my hair on the way back to my car.


It seems so inherently wrong for there to be laughter or a sunny day or to eat cookies or for people to be driving 70 on the highway past a church where a young man's life is being memorialized.  And yet, life continues on, with only the briefest pause for remembrance.

I sort of wish for the sackcloth and ashes type of mourning, where I could rend my garments and put ashes on my head and people would leave me alone.  Our mourning these days means dark clothes that don't look much different after a funeral to the man selling newspapers at the store, where you might have to stop to bring home dinner.

All this, too, is part of God's plan, that life would be going on all around death.  Maybe to remind us, maybe to point us to him and to a larger plan.  Maybe to give hope that when we are ready, we can rejoin what is already and still moving forward all around us.

Still, the juxtaposition always seems jarring to me--the way life is never far from death, even at a funeral.  Today I thought about both, and about two young men who have joined their heavenly Father, yet left so many behind.

I have KNOWLEDGE of the comfort of Christ ready and waiting, but for now, I just FEEL heavy.

Sawyer On: Garlic

I wrote the other night about a fabulous restaurant in New Smyrna called The Garlic.  The review inspired me to roast several heads of garlic this week.  (Can you smell me?) Sawyer really wanted to try the garlic-as-butter-smeared on bread, so I gave him a piece of toasted bread, slathered with thick, roasted garlic.

M: Do you like it?
S:  No.  It spices me.

It's always fun to hear little kids describe taste, and honestly--I think that "spice" SHOULD be a verb.  What a perfect way to describe it.  

Also, it was a good thing it spiced him.  Rob and I didn't want to share.

Leaving for a Better Place, Yet So Much Left Behind

This has been a full week.  Not full as in busy, though it's been that too, but full as in heavy.  In addition to the beginning of the whole putting-the-house-on-the-market stress (and already, it's stressful) and having a kid get sick (Saw, today), Rob and I saw two very young people we know lose their battles with cancer.

On Thursday, one of our church families lost their son Nick.  He was 22 and had been married maybe two years.  I only met him once or twice, but Rob is close with his brother who went through the youth group, and Nick's sister is still in the youth group.  Nick was diagnosed about the same time Lynn was, and while it was totally a joy to see the Lord really bring her through, Nick has been struggling this whole time.  It's still really hard to believe, and I just can't imagine the loss his family or his wife feel at this time.

Today I got word that my friend Patrick also lost his battle with cancer.  I spoke about him recently and linked to his blog (which you can visit HERE for ways to help and support his wife and daughter).  It's been a month or so since I got word that he was doing poorly, and have prayed and cried and had preparation for this, but still find it so hard.

In the cases of Nick and Patrick, I know that they knew and trusted Jesus.  (And by that I mean that rather than relying on whatever good things they might have done to earn a spot in heaven, they trusted that Jesus lived a perfect life that we couldn't and died on the cross, taking away punishment we deserve.)  I joyfully and tearfully know that they are with him now, seeing his face, partaking of a banquet in heaven.

It's tearful because of what they leave behind, and even how they left.  Rob saw Nick and his family this week and said it was just sad beyond words.  I saw a photo of Patrick this week and really didn't recognize him, except for a familiar bit of his mouth.  It shocked me.  His daughter was also in the photo, and that made it so real.  Both these young men leave behind so much: wives, a daughter. Parents and siblings and friends around the country and world who are mourning right now.

I totally meant to write about something else here, and maybe later I will tackle it, but as I was writing, the words of a song I wrote a few years ago came back to me.  It's not an amazing song or anything, but here's why I'm sharing it.  I sat down to write a gospel song in Greensboro (think: country gospel, not gospel choir) and was kind of writing about heaven and putting down ideas, when suddenly the song was not so much about heaven being a wonderful place, but my issues with it. Namely: the idea that we don't always get there at the same time with our earthly loves, and I don't know what that relationship looks like on the other side.

Jesus once rebuked some people who were testing him, saying that people won't be married in heaven, but will be like angels.  That sounds fine and dandy, but what about my husband!?!  I'm sure when I'm IN heaven, I'll understand and not care.  But here on earth, the idea of going to heaven doesn't sound like heaven if I'm not with the people I love now.  Plus, the idea of going at separate times who knows when just is not something I want to think about.  This week, that's definitely more real.

It's not really a spiritual or theological song, but just one about how I FEEL.  And as I've posted before regarding the Psalms, being honest is a good thing.  If I'm being honest, it's just really hard to see the loss left behind when our earthly loves depart, EVEN if you know their suffering has ended.

With that in mind, here is that song, which became not a gospel song, but more a country ballad where I rant and rail a bit to God.


Without My Baby

When that day comes, I will be ready
To fly away from here into the great blue sky
But I won't go without my baby
That's why I'm holding onto him so tight

    I don't mean to tell you, Lord, the way that it should be
    Just consider me the least of all and this my sinner's plea
    Nothing can compare to you, but Lord my faith is weak
    Forgive me, but I won't go without my baby

I know that it's not right for me to love someone this much
But I'd rather err on that side than not loving near enough
You gave my baby to me and he's yours to take away
But knowing and believing are two very different things

    I don't mean to tell you, Lord, the way that it should be
    Just consider me the least of all and this my sinner's plea
    Nothing can compare to you, but Lord my faith is weak
    Forgive me, but I won't go without my baby

Could there be a heaven without my baby's love?
Would it be the same if I'm alone?
I know the thing to do is let go and simply trust
I guess that I'm just not the trusting kind

That day has come and you've been faithful
Not that I'm deserving, but Lord your word is true
I look across the River Jordan
On the other side, I see him there with you

    I don't mean to tell you, Lord, the way that it should be
    Just consider me the least of all and this my sinner's plea
    Nothing can compare to you, but Lord my faith is weak
    Forgive me, but I won't go with out my baby

Breaking Resolutions in January

With the re-start of derby (groan, my aching muscles!) and the whole selling-our-house thing, I have broken most of my resolutions on the daily. I'm sure I didn't post about resolutions, but I made a bunch, mostly focused on daily things that I think I can achieve.  Here are a few examples:

-make Rob lunch and breakfast each day
-do at least 10 minutes of yoga
-clean out sink and dishwasher and put away all laundry before bed

Fail, fail, and fail!  One thing I have done is give Rob a ten minute massage at least MOST days.  I don't have time for even ten minutes of yoga sometimes, and it's easy to use the excuse that I already did 2-3 hours of derby most days.  I'll also blame derby for the last one of those--I am a zombie by 10pm and just pretend I don't see the sink and laundry.

I always give myself grace with resolutions.  I am working toward some of them and doing well, like with having daily times with God.  Much better there, and that's important.  I also have been planning meals better and have done lots of organizing.  It's just with the whole moving thing, plus a busy beginning to derby, some of my lovely resolutions aren't going to make it.  I am okay with saying that MOST days I will do those things.  I have hope.  Returning from vacation also threw a wrench in things, and I've had extra practices the past two weeks in derby that will end starting next week.  Rob and I are going to write out a plan of attack on stuff for the house, so I think we can be organized.  I have failed, but don't yet feel like a failure.

Did you make any resolutions this year?  Have you broken them yet??

Spinach Winners!

My first three commenters on guessing the age of my spinach have won a prize!  Please email me your addresses, Courtney, Liz R, and Anonymous.  If I don't hear from you in the next day or two, I will proceed down the list of comments!

A Few Tiny Changes

While almost deleting my blog tonight, I did enable a fun feature:  you can now have threads in the comments.  What this means is that if someone comments and you have a particular response to that particular comment, you can hit a little reply button and yours will follow under theirs.  This is more professional, more fun, and will ONLY be useful if you comment on my blog.

(Hint, hint.)

Get excited for huge tiny things!

The Garlic

I was reminded yesterday when hanging out with my friend Kelly that I had forgotten to post a restaurant review from our Florida trip.  What reminded me was this amazing tomato and garlic and almond dip she had, which I totally ate with a spoon out of the container she gave me.  You can see that amazing recipe HERE. 

So on our lovely, child-free vacation, Rob and I were driving down the road in New Smyrna Beach and we both suddenly were like: "Where is that heavenly and amazing smell of garlic coming from? We want to go to there!"  (Ahem. Paraphrase.)  The answer was pretty easy because we were driving past a restaurant called The Garlic.  For real.

And yes, it had giant plaster heads of garlic.  Sorry for the terrible photo. It was nighttime--what can I say.

I have to tell you a little back story before I get to why we were compelled to go to there.  When we were living in Greensboro, one of Rob's colleagues gave us a recipe for homemade salsa. You'd think that we would have gotten some kind of amazing recipe from Texas, but no.  This woman in North Carolina.  

When visiting my parents in Virginia (this story involves way too many states), we made said salsa and consumed quite a bit of it.  It's lovely: roasted peppers, fresh tomatoes, fresh garlic, some other stuff.  Maybe I will share it soon.  Maybe. 

In any case, the next morning, my mother SWEARS that walking past the guest room where Rob and I slept, she could SMELL us.  She says that it was like garlic was living and breathing inside our room and emanating out into the hallway.  I call that awesome.  My mom called that gross.

The point of that story is:  we LOVE garlic.  

The prices at The Garlic (I should also point out that I think it's oddly funny to put "the" in front of things that normally don't have "the" in front of them, like The Derby) were sort of moderately high-ish (a technical term).  Entrees came in between $12 and $30 with some appetizers under $10.  The best thing at The Garlic was, however, free.  It was the garlic.

That, my friends, is a whole head of garlic, roasted. Ready to be spread like butter upon bread.  It really was like butter, and Rob and I soon found ourselves asking for a second head of garlic.  Have I mentioned that we like garlic??  We have had roasted garlic, but not usually as something you just spread on a nice slice of homemade bread. Typically I ad it to a recipe, like mashed potatoes.  I had no idea that I was missing out on just plain The Garlic. 

The ambiance was fabulous as well, though my photos don't capture it well.  We sat in a garden lit by rope lights, with trees and plants all through it and a roaring fire in a stone fireplace nearby.  There was also an outdoor brick fire oven they used to cook pizza.  In short, this place was phenomenal, and we plan to roast and eat a lot more heads of garlic in the near future.  Mmmm.  Maybe the VERY near future. 

 If you happen upon New Smyrna Beach, stop and smell and eat The Garlic.

Daily (Almost) Disaster: That Time I Deleted My Blog

I just almost deleted my blog.

Okay, not the WHOLE blog--the content and all that.  (Though I DID accidentally delete my old blog that was solely photos of our crazy life.  Sad, sad day.)  It was more all the code that makes my blog look the way it does.

No, it doesn't look perfect. But it took me forever to get it the way it is and I'm planning to change much right now.  So I should NOT have played around with the html code, especially when I don't understand html code.  There is even a little warning on blogger like: "Please understand if you click this button to work on the html, you may DESTROY THE WHOLE WORLD if you don't know what you're doing."  I still clicked the "Go Ahead, Genius" button anyway to edit my html and am still coming down from the adrenaline of the mild (major) panic attack I suffered when I tried to load my blog and just got an error message, then realized that I saved my code in case that happened, then continued to edit it instead of opening a new file.

When you panic, the best thing to do is just close the internet and pray that it forgot what you were doing. It did!  Whew.  I am still sweating.

Sawyer On: My Culinary Prowess

M:  Saw, how is your breakfast?  Is it delicious?
S:  No.  It makes me have to go potty.

Sleeping...Like That?

This is how Sawyer is sleeping tonight.

Not only does he want to sleep in the floor (???), he wants to sleep halfway on an overturned armchair in the floor.  I have weird kids.