Much Ado About Nothing

I am nearing 58. No spring chicken, I acknowledge.  Just today, my granddaughter Ruby, age 3, told her Daddy to be careful around me while he played on her  Scooter, because,  "Ommie is old".  Oh. My. Gravy. Yes, I am getting older, even if I don't consider myself to be officially old quite yet. 

So, the point is, I've been around awhile.  Long enough to know better, as the saying goes.  Question is, why do I still  go into tailspins over change and disruptions in life?  When is that wisdom thing going to finally kick in?

Late last year, rumors were swirling around that more changes were coming to my workplace. My full-time associate would be reduced to a schedule of three days a week.  My work load was bound to increase and I was already working excessive hours. Changes were being made in the way I'd be doing my job.  I was not happy and I made it known to anyone who would listen.  I threw a bit of a hissy fit, truth be known.

Anger turned to frustration and  then, frustration to acceptance.  I didn't like it, but I saw the changes were inevitable. I focused on how to make the best of it.  I helped find additional hours elsewhere for my co-worker. I made a decision to  resign from a mentoring position which had taken time away from my primary work responsibilities while not compensating me anything additional.  I vowed to work fewer hours and to trust God for the outcome.  I was determined to find some balance in my life, despite the changes at work.

Thirty days into the changes that had me in a tailspin. a  funny thing has happened. The entire month of January I have worked under 45 hours per week. That is a major big deal for this woman. I have been able to get to church on time every Friday night.  I've met my husband for dinner on a whim, more than once,  instead of begging off because I'm "too busy."  I've learned to be more efficient and more productive working on my own.  But most of all, I've been reminded, that the Lord is faithful. 

In retrospect, I see that all the changes I went into a tizzy over, were intended for my good. Mind you, I am well aquainted with Romans 8:28 which says, in a nut shell, that all things work together for good for those who love Him and who are called according to His purposes.  I have counted that verse among my favorites for, let's see-- decades?  How is it that someone who claims to love Him, to be called for His purposes and to believe He has my good in mind, can so easily lose sight of that and temporarily lose my oh so fragile mind when someone rocks my boat a little?

Oh me, of little faith. I am here to confess, it was indeed, "Much Ado About Nothing".  He knew exactly what He was doing. He used my employer, and my circumstances, my bad attitude and my weariness to get me exactly where he wanted me. He knew what it would take to get me out of what had become a comfort zone and into the zone He wanted me in. He knew. He always does.

Once I got over my little fit, I stepped back, adjusted my perspective  and walked forward in faith. I see now, that all the changes I whined about were intended for my best. I am now working less, working smarter and trusting Him for the results instead of my own extra efforts.  He has proven faithful and is blessing the work of my hands. I see now that it was false pride that caused me to put in too many hours and to think  that I  had to do things or they wouldn't be done right.  In my mind, I was doing something noble and praise worthy. I now see how wrong and misguided I was.

 It's not about me, how good I am or how hard I work.  It's certainly not about how many hours I put in.  I still work diligently and I give 100%, but I work less, because I finally get that  He has other things for me to do at home and at church and in my community.  Finally, I'm paying attention.  Finally,  I acknowledge that my successes are not about me and my talent or ability. It's all about Him and what He chooses to do in me and through me. My job is to be faithful.  The results are in His hands.  I'm counting on it.

More of Jesus. Less of Me.  Yes.

Yes.

Gratitude: What's all the fuss about?

Decades ago, under the teaching of my Pastor, Zac, I was fortunate to learn the incalculable importance of having an attitude of gratitude. Since that time, it has become a core value in my life and in my daily walk through this world.

Clothed with a sense of gratitude, versus a sense of entitlement, I have come to recognize that without the foundation of thankfulness, I am doomed to the "then I'll be happy" syndrome... when I am out of school, when I can get back to school; when I am healthy, when I have more money, when I am through this trying situation, when I am married or when I am out of this marriage; when I get a new job or when I can stop working; when I have a child or when my children are grown; when I have a better place to live, when I have that new car, or position, or notoriety. You get the picture.

I sincerely believe, that until you grasp what it is to be thankful, you will most likely not experience what it is to be happy. Author, Speaker and Radio Host Dennis Prager first made me consider this in his book, "Happiness is a Serious Problem". His premise is that happy people make a better world and that gratitude is foundational to happiness. I concur. But, I think that gratitude is the more serious problem, not happiness. Grateful people are inherently happy people- pure and simple. If you aren't happy, you most likely don't recognize how much you have to be grateful for. There. I've said it. Sorry if you are offended, but, I stand firm in my conviction. If you don't believe me, ask Corrie Ten Boom or Joni Eareckson Tada or Viktor Frankl , all well known individuals who have suffered more than most of us will ever be called to. Ask my friend Tran, whose son was killed while stopping at the side of the road to help a stranded motorist or, Christianne who will likely spend the remaineder of this life in a wheelchair. Consider my cousins, Dona and Gene, who lost both their mom and their brother in tragic circumstances. Then, there's Cheryl, who lives with pain everyday of her life and my friend Pat, whose sweet Dad suffers from Alzheimer's Disease. Let's not even think of overlooking the the legions of people who have been deeply wounded by either family or friends they believed would never fail them.

Each of these I've mentioned are examples of the joy that comes from acknowledging a God who loves them and believing that He is in control...a God who gave all so that our failures could be forgiven. A God who promises "a future and a hope" (Jeremiah 29:11). That same God who urges us to "enter into His gates with Thanksgiving" and, in all things to "give thanks". These folks are real people who, in the midst of their suffering, choose to live their lives with an attitude of gratitude.

We are all wounded soldiers, aren't we? Some in our bodies, some in our spirits, but, we've all suffered pain and sorrow. Many of us have fallen short of what we hoped to become. All of us have known the disappointments of life. Some of us live with physical pain, others with emotional scars.

Too many of us believe that if the stars would just get aligned correctly, we would be better off. We would bask in the warmth of true contentment. Further, we're pretty sure that, we are just a slight shift in the universe away from being happy. The truth is that if we could truly grasp the wonderful truth that there is a God in Heaven, Who, by the way, really does have it all under control, we could then surrender our frustration, our anger, our disappointment and our fears. We would acknowledge that while we cannot see the future, He can. We could then focus on the good, in this moment. We could rest in the arms of a God we know has promised to work it all for our good. (Romans 8:28) Truth is, happiness is impossible without gratitude. From gratitude springs the ability to recognize that there is much to appreciate in the here and now.

May I challenge you, dear readers, to take on a practice I undertook may years ago?

It's so simple. You can do it. Begin and end each day with an attitude of gratitude.

That's it. Simple, right? There are many ways to make it happen.

For me, it means writing down and/or speaking to God the many things I am thankful for, in that moment, for that day. It may take some practice, but, I promise, it is a learned skill that get's easier with repetition. Yesterday, as I was anxiously anticipating oral surgery, I paused to thank God. Yes, I really did. I thanked him for the ability to have the surgery done, for a good periodontist to do the procedure, for his kind staff to set me at ease, for the funds to pay for the procedure and finally, for the many dear ones who had encouraged and prayed for me. As I gave thanks to the God who provided it all, I was filled peace and calm as I headed off to my appointment.

Gratitude. It's what's for breakfast...and lunch... and dinner. Then, you'll be happy!

Bittersweet

You have to take the bitter with the sweet. I get that. But sometimes, the bitter IS the sweet. A loss so great that results in a reunion so sweet...this is the story of Edith Marta Donatelli Mandish, and her passing from this life into the next.

I married into a family so vibrant, so intense and so LOUD. The Mandish clan was, from the beginning, part of the attraction. My Slav Father-in-law, Mike...a twinkle in his eye and a penchant for saying things so bluntly that it sometimes took my breath away and othertimes so funny that he made me laugh for days. My Italian Mother-in-law, Edith, whose existence was centered around her family, and who in later years, referred to me as her "Angel" (My husband doesn't always concur) was my biggest supporter. Their family included my husband Mike, his brothers Dan and Gene and their sister Christine.

Family gatherings were always intense...conversation was fast and furious, people talking over each other about politics, religion, news, books and our varied lives. Laughter abounded and voices escalated. One time when our daughter was about 12, she invited her friend Heather to come along for a gathering. We had our traditional dinner with everyone gathered around the table, talking long after the meal was over. When we went home, her friend asked, "Are they always mad at each other?" To which Amanda replied, "They weren't mad, they always talk at the same time in loud voices!"

Through the years, Edith was always an encourager. She often told me that she prayed for us...for Mike and I to be reconciled (we did), for Mike to quit smoking after decades, (he did) for our girls to get good educations (check) and for them all to find good husbands. (two down, one still pending, but we believe!) She had a rich and faithful prayer life. She never gave up. She spend many hours praying for anyone who needed prayer and many of us were the recipients of her faithful endurance on our behalf.

She grew up without a mother, due to the untimely death of her own when she was very young. As a result, she never knew the tender warmth of a mother's embrace, the encouraging words a mother can speak and she faced unusual harshness as a young child. Her father was a good man, but gruff and unsentimental toward his young children. His expectations were high and there was no time for foolishness. Her days were long and hard. She and her sister Norma were expected to cook and clean and iron from a very young age while also going to school. Before she was ten, she had to prepare her grandmother's body for viewing following her death. This was not a fairy tale childhood.

Even so, she raised four children, was the loyal wife of one man and lived a life of extraordinary faith in Jesus Christ. She attended a Baptist church when she was small, but, ultimately was baptised a Catholic and raised her children in that faith.

In her later years, she experienced a healing, which she kept secret for years, uncertain that anyone would believe her. She had cancer and the physicians she saw didn't hold out great hope for her recovery. But, they didn' t know about her prayer life. They also apparently weren't familiar with the Great Physician she had entrusted herself to. Years later she told me that she was up one night praying ...all night she prayed and suddenly she felt a heat come into her body from the top of her head down through her toes. At the same time, she heard the words, "Your body is healed", a healing that was confirmed when she returned to her earthly doctors. That was decades ago. She was given "bonus time".

In June 2007, her beloved Mike died. She missed him terribly. At one point she considered stopping her medications so that she could be with him again. Thankfully, a friend talked her out of that. Her last couple of years, though, every future event was couched with, "If I'm still here." When her most recent great grand-child, Ruby was on the way, she said she hoped to live to see her. She did and in fact enjoyed many visits with the blue eyed beauty she loved so much.
In January of last year, nearly all of her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren gathered for a surprise 90th birthday party at our home. Letters and cards came from loved ones near and far, and she reveled in the love that we poured out on her.

January this year, the party was smaller...the local family members gathered again around her table and she blew out candles on the cake I had made her. She was a blessed woman and contentment was hers. She appreciated every opportunity to be with us...to see the fruit of a life well lived and the results of the prayers she had long prayed.

Ironically, she died much the same as her beloved Mike did. A hip fracture, followed by a surgery and then a recovery that didn't come to fruition. But, the difference, the very sweet difference, was that we were given the precious gift of time. To the end, she was cognizant of what was happening...fully aware of those around her bedside and ultimately ready to let go and meet her Maker.

Blessed time. Time to read to her from the Word of God. Time to sing songs around her bedside. Time to talk about her wishes. She spoke to each one gathered around her bed, expressing her thoughts. Time to say good bye...time to talk about the reunion ahead of her, with her Mike, with her own Mother, with her brothers and sisters and with my own dear Dad. The day before she passed, all four of her children were with her all day...five of her grandchildren and one great grandchild was there. She told us she wanted "Wind Beneath My Wings" and "Amazing Grace" sung at her service by her granddaughter Lynne, and she was able to hear Lynne rehearse them for her at her bedside. She was ready and it was on her terms. It was the hardest and sweetest of times.

That night, her youngest son, Gene, chose to stay the night in her room. We all went home and slept, only to awaken to the news that she had crossed over from this life to the gates of Heaven, early that morning. The journey through the valley of the shadow of death, had come to a conclusion. Destination reached.

We planned services. We walked through them. We carried out her wishes. We sang songs, prayed prayers and spoke of what she meant to each of us. We spent countless hours as a family, recounting the gifts she had given us. Gifts of faith and love and acceptance and selflessness. In her apartment we found boxes of cards and letters she'd saved for more than half a century, from all of us. She had no jewels...no possessions of great worldly value. She often said that her children were her diamonds. In the end, it was imminently clear that her family was her treasure. That's where her heart was.

And so, her legacy is a life well lived. A life of faith. A life of endurance. A life of service. We have much to live up to, but, a deep well of example to draw from. It is very hard to imagine that she is no longer with us...that we can no longer enjoy her stories and her company. It is hard to say good-bye. But, she lived for the reward that now is hers and her reward is great. How could we begrudge her that? Still...

Bittersweet.