She Believes In Me

Disclaimer: This post is in no way meant to be a pity party nor an endorsement for Kenny Rogers.

Almost 7 weeks ago my friend Gloria died suddenly while on vacation in Colorado. She was one of those people who was special to nearly every person who knew her. And when Gloria died, many of us groped for words to describe what it was that made her so dear.

A couple weeks after Gloria died I was going about my morning routine which includes listening to our local radio station to catch up on the small-town news. The news was over and the first song came on before I could get the radio turned off (it's a country station and we don't stomach that very well in our house). Kenny Rogers' voice blared out the words "And she believes in me, I'll never know just what she sees in me." And it hit me. Gloria believed in me. No matter what I did or attempted to do, she was one of my biggest cheerleaders. And our relationship was like that from the get-go.

We moved to Harrisonville, MO in August 1998. My husband was hired as the youth pastor at the church where Gloria's husband was the pastor. In September, I was asked to be a small group leader for a community Bible study held at our church called Hearts at Home. Gloria was in my group. At first I was a little intimidated because I hadn't grown to know her yet. But after a few short weeks Gloria shared with me how much she liked our little group and that I was the best small group leader she had ever had. She talked about things such as my ability to keep the group moving when needed, or to allow silence when needed. She puffed me up.

That was the beginning of her cheerleading me for the next 12 years. She cheered me on when I taught on occasion at Hearts at Home. She cheered me on as I raised my children. She cheered me on when I opened my business. She cheered me on as we led together on our church's women's ministry team. She cheered and she cheered and she cheered. Even when I shared a recent story with her about how I opened my mouth when I shouldn't have, although what I said needed to be said --- she cheered me on. I can still hear her say with great enthusiasm, "Good for you!"

And for some of you a cheerleader may not be a big deal. For some of you there has always been a lady in your life to cheer you on through the adventures and trials. But I didn't grow up that way. My mother was never my cheerleader. She was never an encourager or a nurturer. That is not a pity statement and it is not an exaggeration. It just is what it is.

Waking Up From The Dream

A few nights ago I had a dream about a lady coming to my house for me to do her hair. She showed up here with a large bottle of hair dye. She was kind of an icky lady but not to the extreme. She was pushing hard for me to find time to do her hair. I was trying to be polite, and was trying to find a way to explain that I only cut hair for people that I knew. And no matter how nice I tried to be, she continued to be persistent and her ickyness grew with her persistence.
And that is the point that I made my decision. I didn't like this icky, pushy lady; so I woke myself up from the dream.
There. I fixed that problem. Hmpfh!
And then as I lay there thinking about the fact that I could just end a bad dream by making myself wake up, I found myself wishing we could do that in life.
Wouldn't it be nice if we could just wake up from the bad situation we are in? Wake up - - no more grief. Wake up - - no more financial problems. Wake up - - your children have a problem-free life. Wake up - - and everything is better.

Guess what? We all get one ultimate Wake Up. When we go to sleep here and wake up there, with Him, all of our problems will be gone. No icky lady. No grief. No money issues. No health issues. Nothing but love and a life with our Jesus.

Clapping my hands for happiness.

Tags

I have decided it would be a grand idea if God could tag people for us.

Maybe a light that shines behind their head; or a big X on their hand; or a red sticker on their forehead.

The tag would be God's way of telling us to pay special attention to these people. We could make sure every hug was meaningful. Every word was captured in our memories. Every moment was cherished.

I know I am no different than you. We all have people in our lives who, once they are gone, we realize how significant they were to us. I just wish God could give us a little heads up.

The Journey

5 states. 12 towns. 16 homes and 2 long hotel stays. That is where the journey of my life has taken me thus far.


When I close my eyes, a sea of faces runs through my mind. People that I've known, spent time with, did life with.

It is honestly amazing (someone needs to invent a new word with a similar meaning) to think of the places I have been, the people I have met, the journey I have experienced. Each place that life has taken us to and through, we sometimes look back and wonder, "Hmm. I wonder what that was for?" I believe in a mighty God and I believe that He takes us through life with great intent and purpose. I believe that everything we do is for a reason. And every place I have lived, every job I have had, it has all been for a purpose.

And in the last week I have known that if the only reason we spent 8 years in Harrisonville, Missouri was so that we could know Gloria Evers, then it was all worth it.

I could never do her justice in a blog; there are not adequate words. That is not an exaggeration, just truth.

Gloria made everyone feel like they were the most important one. If she was with you, she was WITH you. She asked questions about your life and then listened to your answer. Her soul was so gentle. And I know of no other human who loved God as much as she did.


Listening to a few people share at her funeral I realized something huge. Every story was how Gloria made that person feel important, how she was there for the big events, how she prayed exactly the right prayer for someone, how she spoke the right words at the right time. And for those who know Gloria, you know it is true when I say I would not describe her as overly ambitious or a real go-getter. And so I wondered how she could be in so many places at just the right time doing just the right thing. And the light bulb came on for me.

Most of us run around doing lots of things, trying to cram as much into one day as we possibly can. We are busy, busy, busy and hoping that if we keep at it we might just find ourselves in the right place at the right time once in a while.

That was not life for Gloria. Her life was lived step in step with the Holy Spirit. She waited, and when she sensed the Spirit leading her to do something, she just did it. THAT is how she affected so many lives in just 53 years. THAT is how she made every person feel important. THAT is how she was able to love so generously. She listened to the Holy Spirit. And if she felt the Spirit telling her that she was not supposed to do something, she had no problem telling you 'no.'

She inspires us all to be better. We are so, so much better for having known her. That is not meant to sound like a cliche. It is heartfelt. My life is richer because she loved me.

I don't really believe that our 8 years in Harrisonville were for the sole purpose of knowing Gloria. There was so much that happened during that time; it was a great time for our whole family. But if somehow it WAS only for that purpose, I would be at peace with that.

The Life of a Pastor's Wife

Not to offend anyone, but honestly, very few people on this earth truly understand the life of a pastor's wife. No one really gets how much pressure our husbands are under; what they feel, the burden they carry for their sheep; the attacks they come under. And truthfully, we don't expect you to understand it.


But I was lucky enough in this life to find someone who did understand. She understood because she was one, too. Gloria. She was my pastor's wife for 8 years. More importantly, she's been my friend for 12 years. And now she is where her heart has longed to be for such a long time....with her Father. This blog is my incompetent attempt to honor her life.

Gloria hated mornings. But she was gracious enough to get up early for our many shopping trips so that I could be back home in time to pick the kids up from school. It was typical for me to pull up in her driveway and have her come out with creases still on her cheek because she had only been out of bed for 10 minutes.

We spent many birthdays together. We shopped at our bargain spots, had lunch, and talked endlessly. I loved our shopping trips because Gloria shared my love for a good bargain. But she was such a good talker and a good listener. So stinking wise. I knew that whatever she said was going to be golden, and I could trust it and cling to it.

She loved singing John Denver and The Carpenters with me. I don't have many friends who will do that.

She hated thank you notes. If she gave a gift it was usually quickly followed by something like, "Please don't send me a thank you note. I know you appreciate the gift." She hated thank you notes because she was so bad at remembering to send one. Not that anyone cared. It was a funny thing about her.

Gloria loved playing Scrabble. She loved it so much that she figured out how to play alone. And she was a great competitor for me in the Scrabble category. Only one other friend proved to be so great a challenge, Sara Steinmetz. I loved our Scrabble games together.

Gloria loved diet Coke, and reading, and finding old books at the resale shops. She loved to decorate and had such a gift for it. When she came to Illinois to visit for a few days, she and I spent a day hitting all the resale shops in my town. She gathered the items as I watched in awe. In my head I didn't know how she was going to piece them all together. But she did it beautifully. My kitchen cabinets were bare on the top and Gloria turned them into something cozy and homey. I love that her touch is present in my home.


Our families spent a lot of time together. We went out to lunch many Sundays. We had them to our house to share meals, and we shared many in their home as well. I remember laughter between us. Lots and lots of laughter. One Sunday over dinner at Longhorn Steakhouse, she told a story about when her daughter Naomi was very small and they had company over. I don't remember all of the details of her story, but I do remember her saying that Naomi was in the bathroom yelling, "I finished!" over and over again because she had finished her business and needed some help :)   As we all finished our meal that day, my husband Jerry got up to go to the bathroom, which was only a few steps from our table. In a few minutes we heard a noise coming from the direction of the bathroom. It was loud and as we listened, we realized it was Jerry yelling, "I finished!" We all laughed hard, but I know Gloria laughed the hardest that day. "I finished" has become a tag line that we repeat often.

Gloria was a good listener for many. A good, true friend. She was kind. And thoughtful. Creative. And oh my, what a voice. I once described her voice to someone as "it sounds like angels are singing." And now I picture her, singing face to face with Jesus. Oh the joy that must be flooding her soul. My heart is so happy for her.

When we left Harrisonville, Gloria refused to tell me goodbye. I remember her hugging me and I know she was fighting tears as she said, "I'm not going to tell you goodbye. I am just going to say 'See you later' because I know I will see you again."

We have been back to visit many times since we left Harrisonville. And Gloria was right, I did see her many times later. And she has even been to Illinois a couple times since then.

And for today my heart can not bear to say goodbye, so I say...

See you later Gloria. I love you.

Selfish

I know I have a strong selfish tendency that lives within me. And sometimes I don't even apologize for it.

Today is a "no apologies" day. In our town, and even across my street, kids are leaving for college. Their parents have packed their belongings, loaded their cars, and headed out to different parts of our state. And different parts of our country.

And I sit quietly, afraid to say much, almost afraid to breathe for fear of being noticed. I am happy that I am not packing the car and setting out on a new journey. I am elated that I get one more year of my son at home. I will not brag to many people that we've been granted one more year. But I am so very thankful.

And perhaps this year is a bonus gift from God. Some of the parents saying their goodbyes today know/hope that it is a temporary goodbye. They have dreams/expectations that when college is done, their children will return to their hometown to settle down and create a new life.

I know that will not happen for us. I've known that for a very long time. When we say our goodbyes next fall, it is just the beginning of a long string of goodbyes for our family. And I wouldn't have it any other way. I know my son's dreams are going to take him far away. But for now, I will sit here quietly, trying not to breathe.

Seasons Changin'

In about an hour I will be performing a long-standing tradition in our home. I'll be taking those "First Day of School" pictures. But my heart is heavy this year. For the first time in 13ish years, the pictures will be very different. Maddie will be standing solo in the pics. Logan will be in bed, getting a little extra sleep before he goes to work at the college bookstore. This is the first time in many years that we aren't sending them off at the same time or on the same day for their First Day of School. It makes me teary-eyed to even think about this.

I count myself fortunate that Logan is doing his first year of college at home. That eases the pain of the Seasons Changin'. But next year will be another new Season --- we will deliver Logan to Southern Illinois University-Carbondale and leave him there. Maddie will have her First Day of School as a high school student. Our house will be quieter with one less body running around.

I know the Seasons have to change. It is the way God created our world. But I don't have to like it.

A Tat and A Hoop

Regarding the bird leaving the nest that I spoke about in the previous post...

Before he turned 16, Logan started telling us he was thinking about getting a tattoo. We told him he needed to wait until he was 16. He was having a hard time deciding on what to have inked because he didn't want to be like everyone else. He wanted something unique.

The 16th birthday arrived and passed, and no tattoo. He still talked about it occasionally but never followed through.

This week, he made good on his desire to have a tattoo. Yesterday he went with a friend to get the tattoo he had settled on - - - the Alaska state flag. Logan was born there and it seemed appropriate.

He came home last night with a rather large Alaskan state flag on is left arm. It looks pretty good, but he says it will look better in a week or so.

He also walked in with his ear pierced. I almost laugh even typing that. It doesn't really fit his personality. He looks a little odd with the thick metal hoop hanging from his lobe. It's not bad, just different.

I am sure this is his way of declaring some independence. Declaring that he is growing up. I have no issues with any of it. I just wish the rest of the world wouldn't be so judgmental. But I imagine they will be.

Nest Activity

I took another step this week at pushing the oldest bird out of the nest. It was a very tiny push, mind you. He had an appointment at the college to get his assignment for the work/study program. I knew he would be more comfortable if I had gone with him, but I also knew he was very capable of doing it on his own. I love being able to take care of my kids, tending to their needs, guiding them along the path. And so to let go, and let him find his own way, was not what I wanted. But I knew it was what he needed.

He did great and only had to call home once for some info on filled out the W-4. His job is at the college bookstore. Awesome! Even more awesome is that if any of his classes require a used book, he gets to borrow it for free! Score!!

It is hard to raise children, but it is even harder to let them go.

I am very proud of the man that my oldest bird is becoming. He is very responsible and easy to trust. I am grateful that I was chosen by God to be his Momma Bird.

Coming Home

It happens every time, but this is the first time I've put words to it.

In April I headed to Missouri to surprise my Mom for her birthday. I planned to take her to lunch and my sister was going to meet us there.

I was driving on Highway 64 and I could see the Arch in the distance. And then I took Highway 255 to drop south and go around St. Louis. Soon, the Jefferson Barracks Bridge was in sight (known by locals as simply the JB Bridge). As I approached the bridge I noticed something physical happening to my body. And as I completed the trek across, it was as if my body took a great big long sigh. "Aaaah, I'm home." I felt different just because I was on Missouri soil. I felt comforted and comfortable. I felt at ease and as if everything was familiar.

I grew up in Missouri, and no matter where I have lived in these 46 years - Missouri has always been home. I feel it in my bones, literally.

And as I crossed the bridge in April, I couldn't help wondering if that is what it will feel like when we cross the gates into heaven. Will our bodies breathe a great sigh of relief that the journey is finally over and we have found our way home? Will we feel comforted, and comfortable - as if we have always known this place? Will we feel at ease and will everything seem familiar?

There are days I just can't way to come home!