Hopeful celebrations, cherished memories

In the 2 weeks between last post and this, we have buried my dad and celebrated Christmas. The combination of his hope - that he is seeing what he believed, in the presence of Jesus - and the joy of Christmas has made this a wonderful season of prayer and thanksgiving. It's a strange thing, this craving to go Home to be with God.

It was a snowy day when we celebrated Dad's life. The sun shone, the mountains were a stunning backdrop as he was laid to rest. 

The family gathered at the graveside to hug Mom and offer our love and support.

Then we met in a gathering restricted to 10 people but filmed and shared online. We "Zoom"-ed the traditional family viewing of the body, the burial, and had a virtual reception on Zoom after. It was a treasured time when family and friends offered their condolences to Mom and spoke of my father's integrity as well as his encouragement, good counsel, and generosity.

The  flowers in the memorial spray were beautiful - orchids, pines, lupines, hydrangeas, pinecones, thistles, and more. As they began to fade, we recombined them into four bouquets.

Best of all, it's lovely to be with my mother. W and I had to apply for special permission from the Canadian government to be allowed to stay with her and to attend the funeral and graveside. Because of her age, I am permitted to accompany her on her outdoor walks. (For that, I needed a letter from her doctor.)

We celebrated a quiet Christmas and lit the central Advent candle together. The four "hope, joy, peace, and faith" red candles were lit earlier. We had only the Christ-candle in the center to finish. We've had them lit most days - and they are almost burned to the green base.

After a few days of snow, it was possible to go out to walk along the river.

Mom received many cards, calls, and flowers of condolence and tributes to Dad. She cherished each one.

Two of my three brothers are in lockdown in Europe and could not return to Canada. The other brother is taking care of the end-of-life paperwork and Mom's affairs. So I am just visiting and helping her sort through the house. It's an adventure through good memories.

W remains indoors on quarantine for the rest of this week. After the weekend, he'll be able to see his mom in the next city. Strange times. We had already purchased tickets to come see her. Before our arrival, my father died. God worked out the details for us to be here now.

Walking in 2oC calm weather is fine - but 5oC with a wind is too cold. We pull on sweaters, scarves, gloves, heavy socks, and coats.

Someone hung ornaments on one of the little trees in the riverside park.

I've been wearing the hats my father left behind to keep my head warm. I will take my favorite with me.

We talk to the grandkids who are nearby but unable to visit. We'll see them soon.

Dad became a luthier (string and violin craftsman) after retirement. This year, he began clearing out his workshop, donating and selling tools, supplies, and instruments. There is almost nothing left. It's like he was saying goodbye to things here and transitioning to heaven.

Quite amazing. I want to be as ready as he when my time comes.

Read more: 

*For you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings. Malachi 4:2

*He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God. John 1:11-12

*[Jesus said,} “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. John 14:1-3 NIV

*In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:26-28 NIV

Moravian Prayer: Christ divine, how blessed we are that, through you, we are adopted into God’s family and are called “Beloved.” Of this we are certain: God loves us today and always, thanks to you, O Savior. Amen.

Preparing a "Farewell, until we meet again" for my beloved father

In a day or two, many things can change. My dear dad dies on Sunday (Vancouver time). He has a peaceful and quiet passing into the Presence of God. Within a few hours of reaching the hospital, he's transitioned to his heavenly home. As a family, we are grateful to God that he can experience and see what he believed and taught us. What hope we have in our God.

Friends send Christmas treats, which we receive with thanks in a week that changes our lives forever.

Monday, December 14, 2020

It's night here in Indonesia, while it's Sunday morning Vancouver time. Mom calls me on her Saturday evening, worrying about Dad, who hasn't felt good, can't eat, and is sleeping a lot.

"I'm at peace," she tells me. "Whatever happens. I feel God's peace."

We pray together and hang up. She goes to sleep as I go about my day, praying over Mom and Dad. During the night (here), there are 2 more video calls with Mom and my brother. The first is that Dad's being taken to hospital in an ambulance. The second is that the news is not good: the doctors says it's just matter of time, because Dad's body is shutting down.

"Come here if you want to say goodbye," they tell Norm and Mom. So they do.

Norm calls each sibling from the emergency room, giving us a chance to say to Dad, "I love you" and "godspeed." He's already not responding but we hope he feels the love in our voices.

I stay awake for a few hours, checking my phone every time it pings. Finally, I flip on the light and write down my hopes for the night in my journal. I add what I remember from recent conversations with my parents.

I fall asleep at 1:30am, not knowing if he'll survive the night. When I wake a few hours later, the first message says that Dad's slipped away. My first instinct is to praise God that he didn't suffer long. The next is concern for our mother.

It's my turn to do the BICOnline video this morning [click here to watch it.] Only a few hours have passed since Dad left. But I get to celebrate him and talk about the hope he taught us as followers of Jesus. How cool is that?! For us, death means a joyful home-going, into God's presence. Now we have one more beloved person waiting to welcome the next one to the other side.

I've always felt homesick for God and heaven. For me, the transition of death holds great anticipation, not dread or fear. That's been true since the first funeral I remember attending, standing beside my grandmother. Was I five years old at the time? I cried with envy because the person who had died was with Jesus. Why did I have to stay back?

Grandma was fiercely blowing her nose with a hanky. When I asked why she was crying, she said the same thing I was feeling: Bald, Kind, bald gehen wir Nachhause! ("Soon, child, soon we're going Home.") I feel really lucky to share her hope and that strong pull toward eternity all my life.

I call each of our kids. They will sure miss their grandpa. They were his joy and what he looked forward to. When they were little, he used to say with a grin, "Well, we love you kids, but we're really more interested in the grandkids." It was probably true. He used to pick up the grands for a day at their house, alternating boys' and girls' Saturdays when we all lived in the same town.

When we moved hours away, he would drive down to take a (homeschooled) child to their place for a week or two of undivided attention and skill-building (whether woodwork with Dad or cooking with Mom.) Talk about spoiling the grandkids. They'd be prince or princess for the week.

I've always thought that arranging a funeral is something like planning a wedding ... in a week. There are many details to decide. Norm, the brother who lives in our hometown, is coordinating everything. The rest of us are confident that all will be well in Norm's hands.

Talking with my brothers in Europe and Canada reminds me of Dad's legacy of love and logic. There's no screaming, fainting, or other hysterics among us. Instead, we exchange a lot of humor to lighten the heaviness of grief. We remember funny parts of conversations and how we were loved by our father. He encouraged us with "Of course you can!" any time we asked him about facing a challenge.

With Canadian COVID restrictions, only 10 people can gather in one place, inside or outside. The memorial will be small but we can livestream. We need written permission from every venue before we can step outside our quarantine house. Norm take the lead as we work through what needs to be done. We contact Mom and the others when we have questions. What about the funeral home? The church. The graveside. Order of burial and service. Participants. Documents. Obituary. Slide show. (The techie grandkids are happy to do this. Dad digitized a lot of his photos and sent them to everyone in the past few years. Thanks, Pop!)

Dad really encouraged the kids to try things and be mischievous but that's hard to put in an obituary.

Most significantly, from start to finish, running through all our memories, he loved Mom. That's the rock-solid foundation of our family.

Of course we're crying, too - sometimes together, but mostly on our own in those sweet moments when we remember the wonderful man he was. It was my honor to be his "favorite daughter." He often joked about that to me, with love in his voice. Mind you, I'm his only daughter among three brothers so that was a no-brainer. It was still nice to hear it and his teasing tone. I'll miss him. (That's me on the left with 2 of 3 brothers.)

Mom says how heartening it is to receive the flood of messages and condolences that pour in. We'll read through the FB posts and other social media later. Dad's kindness, love for God, care for others, his humor, and perpetual "You CAN do it!" ring through the conversations. He was a booster of imagination and dreams, that's for sure.

And he's been the most consistent cheerleader for each of us.

Tuesday

Preparations continue. We converse via phone, text, and video. My friends ask how it's going for Mom and for us. Most can't imagine the peaceful discussions, humor, and free exchanges of ideas as we make decisions. That's Dad's legacy also. He refused to plan a funeral. "I trust you. Do whatever you want," he would say. We plan what we hope honors him and provides a sweet farewell for Mom, our families, and their friends.

This morning, W and I walk the neighborhood. Feels good to get out. I skip Sunday walks (lazing around the house). Then yesterday, I was busy with family and friends. I'm a lousy walker - I will rarely walk if I don't get to it first thing. We're preparing the end-of-year talks for BICOnline, so besides recording videos, W is tied up with editing.

But we make time for a pause. W and I eat a breakfast  bubur ayam (chicken rice porridge) at Nara/Pino, after locking the dogs in our office. The Nara staff and Agus our server look after us even more than usual - we love these young people, who make everyone feel at home with their kind attention.

We've almost finished eating the delicious cake Paulina sent over last week from the Pino Bakehouse. We indulge in a little piece every evening, anticipating Christmas celebrations. Like my father, I enjoy a little sweetness after supper. Miss you already, Dad.

Read more:

*When your judgments come upon the earth, the people of the world learn righteousness. Isaiah 26:9

*The glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken. Isaiah 40:5

*In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary.  

The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”

 

Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. 

But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.” Luke 1:26-33 NIV

*We have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. John 1:14

*He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness. 2 Corinthians 9:10

Moravian Prayer: Lord, freely have you given to us and freely may we bring your story of the good news to those who live in darkness and long to be free. 

Glorious heavenly Father, your unrelenting revelation calls to us, cries to us, sings with us, and speaks to us through all of life’s experiences. In the chaos of earthly life, your glory is seen, recognized, and honored. Amen.

Cookie week and the challenge of reinvention

"Imagine yourself in 3 years." That's Benjamin Hardy's challenge. His book (Personality isn't Permanent) picks up on ways we stay stuck, defined by who we were in the past. I've been reading a few books a month on leadership and organizations. His is the current one.

Most people cannot imagine what they might accomplish within 3 years. Hardy asks readers to "go back and check - who were you 3 years ago?" and then you're to think about how you might design your life 3 years from now. I'd have to read my blog. I have no idea what's happened in the last 3 years, beyond a few highlights.

[My family has a "forgetful" streak in each generation: some of us capture only a few memories. That would be my dad and me. I blog to remember. Yup, I had to cram for tests in university because, by the next day, I couldn't remember much of what I knew the day before.]

"You can change your future!" says Hardy. hmmm That's a very American way of thinking. This morning I read an article on American culture written for people looking for work in the USA. Though Canadian by birth, we slowly slid into many values of our adopted home, judging from that list.

When you live elsewhere, the challenge is not to force others to think the way you do. I write a "New Normal" post every week to remind us that normal here is normal here. (It doesn't have to feel normal to us.) Here are a few "new normal"s. If you want the post of a pic and paragraph each week, let me know.

Kids learn to ride motorcycles early. Very early. If this boy is 10 or 11, I'd be surprised. His passenger is between 7 and 9 years old.

Men run the fabric store. And they're quick. "What do you want?" Here it is. Unrolled. Measured. Cut. "Next!"

Service workers - only men - climb a handmade bamboo ladders to string cable wires. Metal ladders are also used, even  in rainstorms (gulp, lightning), even when you're working on the electrical wires.

For a person with keen curiosity, life is a continuous adventure. There's so much to learn. 

Tuesday-Wednesday

Feels strange - for the first time in years (other than scheduled breaks), we don't have a team meeting on Tuesday. We meet Wednesday afternoon to accommodate new team members who are teachers. Seeing the team is the highlight of the week for me, though everyone has been subdued, sick, or in transition the last few months.

"Can I help?" Lena pops into the office while she waits for a shop to open. She quickly makes up bags with paper doilies. That's a big help the next day.

Thursday

From mid-afternoon, Alice and I pack up about 1200 cookies, baked by our helpers Tuesday and today. Since we can't meet our friends over tea and cookies, we send the goodies to them. Pak Gum delivers 120 bags nearby. Alice arranges transport for another 20 or so around the city.

When we're done, there are a dozen empty Tupperwares and cookie tins. And like the loaves and the fishes, when we thought we wouldn't have enough, we prayed. Somehow, there are 4 full boxes of cookies left over. We take them home and put them back in our fridge.

The last of the bagged, still-warm cookies go into the office fridge. Alice will ensure that they go out the door in the next few days.

Friends Terry and Sandy send a video from Canada. Our driver was first their driver, and so W asks him to check the Indonesian and Sundanese subtitles. He enjoys seeing them again, even in a video. Tech is awesome at connecting people around the globe.

We have to run errands so we miss our walk. I am finishing a talk for the last week of December. I'm also mulling over the 2021 theme for the International Church. I thought that was clear 2 months ago but and now I'm working on the final direction and how to make the "why" of faith clearer. (Yes, I also read Start with Why by S. Sinek during my reading streak.)

In a religious organization, the what and how are generally understood. We meet as a community to worship and hear from God together, whether in person or online.

But sometimes I think we forget the why. In my faith tradition, God invites us to meet with him. Those who follow Jesus expect a relationship with our Heavenly Father, who loves us and wants us to adore him in return. The scriptures constantly stress relationship over religious acts. But how to communicate that to attendees? I find myself praying all day long, asking for divine insight and wisdom.

Friday

We record the final talk of the year. Doing BICOnline has some advantages. Otherwise, it's a day of cleanup and crafting. While I'm mulling the next steps for the coming year, I pull out a yard of Japanese cotton, a beautiful floral with burgundies, oranges, reds, and blues.

What do I have on my shelf that might make a small blanket or hanging? I find scraps of batik from the neighbor's tailoring, blouses that I've altered, and cushion covers, along with a new pieces that I cut into strips. Ah, and how about this piece of plain burgundy linen? Maybe plain triangles between strips?

By the end of the day, I'm deciding what to use for the border: if the triangles are sails, I have a blue and white batik that looks like waves. It's a fusion quilt: the lakes/oceans of Washington state and its Japanese gardens and plants, made with fabrics from here.

Next time I do this, should the sails go the other way?

Saturday

When the sun comes up before 6, you might as well get up.  Lots of people are walking the neighborhood by 6:30. We walked every day this week. Tomorrow I may take a break since I believe in rest between hard work.

The neighborhood loop is 1 mile. Cutting off a long block, the loop is about 1 km. I do 2 long/1 short loops most mornings. W does 2 rounds before taking the dogs home for breakfast. That's when I pick up the pace and sprint in my walking shoes.

Do you find yourself needing routines when you work from home? I do, and find that the more structured I am, the more my day is productive and settled. We're awake by 4 or 5 most mornings. Prayers, scriptures, lift weights, pat on sunscreen and eyebrows, drink lots of water or the cold tea from last night, write a note to the helpers, grab my office tote ... and out the door about 6:00. W carries my bag and drops it at the office. I get to my desk, turn on a fan to cool myself off, and schedule a few Focusmate sessions for work.

It's great to have a call with friends in the USA. After we disconnect, they're off to supper and bed while my day picks up momentum. It feels like Christmas, seeing their preparations. 

Read more:

*He is the living God, enduring forever. His kingdom shall never be destroyed. Daniel 6:26

*Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Hebrews 13:8

Moravian Prayer: Lord Jesus Christ, because of you, we see God; because of you, we hear God; because of you, we love God. In you, we are joined with God and receive peace within. May we dwell in that peace forever. Amen.