I hope my last words spoken on this earth are poignant and heart-warming, perhaps even quotable. I don’t want my last utterance to be something like, “Don’t forget — the garbage goes out on Wednesdays” or “Did we get pre-authorization from the insurance company for this?”
You can tell a lot about a person by their parting remarks.
When Lady Nancy Astor saw all her children standing by her bedside, she said, “Is it my birthday or am I dying?” I wonder how they answered that question.
Groucho Marx quipped to his tearful wife, “Die, my dear? Why, that’s the last thing I’ll do.” Are you kidding?
Trailblazer Kit Carson was quoted as saying, “I just wish I had time for one more bowl of chili.” That must have been some crazy good chili.
Conrad Hilton left a bit of advice with his last words: “Leave the shower curtain on the inside of the tub.” No comment.
Mother Theresa spoke from her heart, “Jesus, I love you. Jesus, I love you.” Just what I’d expect.
And then there was Steve Jobs — “Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow.” Indeed.
After four months of preaching on David, PB wrapped things up on Sunday with the King handing over the reins and the reign of Israel to his son Solomon. True to form, David prayed, “…You test the heart and are pleased with integrity….keep this desire in the hearts of Your people forever…..give Solomon wholehearted devotion….” David was all heart — a man after God’s own heart.
David’s last recorded words in the Bible were spoken to the great assembly:
When the alarm on my phone goes off in the wee hours of the morning, a song starts playing next to my pillow:
“As I rise, strength of God, go before, lift me up.
As I wake, eyes of God, look upon, be my sight.”
Before I’m fully awake, I need this prayer. Negative thoughts, worries, and bad attitudes can attack me before my feet even hit the floor.
Then I stumble into my office, light a candle and open up my Bible.
“As I wait, heart of God, satisfy and sustain.
As I hear, voice of God, lead me on, be my guide.”
Some days, as my blurry eyes focus on the Word, it jumps out and grabs me by the neck. Other days, I just look at God and He just looks at me. Both satisfy and sustain.
Then I move into the day with all the lists and obligations and duties.
“As I go, hand of God, my defense, by my side.”
By evening, I am happy to rejoin my pillow and whisper a vesper prayer.
“As I rest, breath of God, fall upon, bring me peace.”
This song has carried me through many, many days. Many, many moments.
“Your life, Your death, Your blood was shed for every moment.”
I started listening to the music of “All Sons and Daughters” three years ago. When I needed a reason to sing, I put “Reason to Sing” on repeat. When I felt poor and powerless, I kept “All the Poor and Powerless” on top of my playlist. I love their music. I love their lyrics.
This duo doesn’t know it, but they need me. I add a third harmony part to their songs every morning in the shower. Duets are great, but in my opinion, three part harmony is glorious.
I guess I’ll leave well enough alone and keep them by my pillow for now.
This week, this is my song:
Written by Leeland and Michael W. Smith. Recorded by Leslie Jordan and David Leonard.
PB preached a sermon on Sunday about King David’s Mighty Men in 2 Samuel 23. It was a mighty good message. I know it was good because it’s Tuesday and I’m still thinking about it.
PB told the story of a rag-tag bunch of guys, about 400 “losers and vagrants and misfits of all sorts” (1 Sam. 22:2) who sided with David, making them all enemies of King Saul. Among those 400, there was “The Thirty” with a capital “T”. In that elite group of 30, three earned the title “Mighty Men”.
The Mighty Men were fierce warriors who took on whole armies single-handedly. They were also the kind of guys that would break through enemy lines just to fetch their beloved leader a cold drink of water. These good-hearted men took a stand and risked their lives to serve their king. They had David’s back — and his trust.
Two questions come to mind:
First, how many people have three mighty warriors in their lives who can be counted on to come alongside and fight for them?
Second, who needs me to be one of their mighty comrades, daring to break through enemy lines to bring refreshment?
“Such were the exploits of the three mighty men.” (2 Samuel 23:17)
Exploit: a striking or notable deed; feat; spirited or heroic act.
Second grade was awesome. I loved my teacher. She was young and pretty and married to the sixth grade teacher. I found out her first name was Anita, so when we were assigned to write a story, the main character in my riveting tale was a mysterious character named Anita. I wanted so badly to be the teacher’s pet, but she didn’t seem to pick any favorites. Then, at the end of the year, Carla got to take home the class turtle, so I knew she loved Carla more than me. I was crushed. However, I did win the award for most book reports.
I felt very fancy on picture day. My mom didn’t fuss with my hair very often, so the pin curls made me feel extra stylish and flouncy. Too bad she didn’t cut those bangs a little straighter though. I don’t know why I wore the same plaid dress in both my 1st and 2nd grade pictures. Somebody wasn’t paying attention.
A few weeks into the fall quarter, Anita noticed I was having trouble seeing the blackboard from the back row. She sent a note home and it wasn’t long before I was sporting cat-eye glasses. By third grade, the lovely curls were chopped off in favor of the ever-popular pixie haircut.
Never again would I be as beautiful as I was in September of 1966.
The title caught my eye. “It Is Not Death to Die” — what an intriguing phrase. I jotted the words down on a slip of torn-off notebook paper and stuck it in my pocket. When pondering a thought, that’s what I do. I seem to need to carry ideas in my pocket for awhile. They roost in there, like a hen on her eggs, waiting for an insight to hatch.
Through the morning I argued with the short sentence that captured my thoughts. Of course dying is death, I say to the paper in my pocket. The final exhale, the last look before closing the eyes, the heartbeat halted — that’s death. That’s what it is to die. Right?
In the afternoon I had to know more. A little research revealed the origin of the words. In 1832, 60 year old Henri Abraham Cesar Malan wrote a hymn titled, “Non, Ce N’est Pas Mourir”. Fifteen years later, George Bethune translated the French lyrics into English and the song found it’s way into 126 hymnals. One hundred and sixty years later, Sovereign Grace Music recorded the hymn with a new tune. I think Henri would approve.
By the evening, I was sitting at my piano singing a song that made its way from my pocket to my heart. I got it. Dying is not death in the sense that there is nothing more but blackness and non-existence. Paul said that to be away from the body is to be at home with the Lord. (2 Cor. 5:8) Jesus said, “The one who believes in me will live, even though they die.” (John 11:25)
When my girls visit, I like to take them to the Outlet Mall for clearance rack shopping. After all those years of hand-me-downs and garage sale clothes, I figure I owe it to them. Their men love it, because they know their wives will come home with something in their bags and nothing gone out of their pocketbooks. Buying them a little something is my secret pleasure.
On Saturday, Katie put the boys down for a nap and we bolted out the door. However, we were unprepared for what awaited us.
Outlet Mall + Labor Day Weekend + Sales = CRAZINESS
We parked at the far end of the parking lot. We stood in line to get into the changing rooms. We stood in line to make a purchase. After going into two stores that had everything marked 50% off, we were ready to call it quits and considered ourselves lucky to make it out alive.
This morning I read about another unbelievable deal.
“Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost.” Isaiah 55:1
People! This is like the swankiest, most high-end store in the mall offering the absolute top quality merchandise for 100% off. And the owner is out on the sidewalk begging us to come in and help ourselves. No money, no cost. Yet, we hurry by on the way to the Five & Dime for cheap trinkets and watered down Kool-Aid. Not a deal even at half off.
It’s incredible that God lays everything before us, all kinds of riches, all manner of provision, and yet He has to implore us to come. Just come. No lines, no cranky sales clerks, no overspending on the credit card. 100% satisfaction.
“Out of my want and into Thy wealth, out of my sin and into Thyself — Jesus, I come to Thee.”
Thirty-five years ago, when I had curly hair and a skinny waistline, I stood before a church full of people and promised to love and to cherish PB my whole life. My handsome groom and I sang a song together to seal the deal.
But when the time came to exchange rings, something went awry. My sister and PB’s brother had conspired to pull a prank on us. My future father-in-law held out his open Bible to receive the gleaming gold bands from the maid-of-honor and the best man.
Instead, gleaming plastic Oscar Meyer wiener rings were presented.
There was a momentary pause as we took it in. A gasp (PB), a frown (his dad), a nervous giggle (me).
Unfortunately, the microphone standing right in front of us picked up my voice as I whispered, “I can’t do this!” Oh yes. More gasps, frowns, and nervous giggles from the congregation.
We carried on. “With this ring, I thee wed.” With this plastic, Oscar Meyer ring, I marry you, and that’s no bologna. Hot dog!
Even though the O.M. boy with the frankfurter hat had been thoroughly blessed, we discarded those trinkets shortly after the ceremony and slipped on the real rings.
A few years ago, I got to thinking about those unique little pieces of our history. I found one on Ebay for $5.00 and gave it to PB for Christmas. We said, “I do” all over again.
This is our story. This is our song.
“Love’s grown deep inside of us,
And time has made us sure,
That the reason we stand here,
Is because You’ve touched Your hand here.
The love we feel today is meant to be shared by two,
I went away on Sunday as a timid, toe-dipping, hesitant dabbler. Jotting down silly thoughts was a hobby to enjoy but to keep under wraps. Throwing words out into the great internet cloud wasn’t intimidating because I didn’t have to actually look a handful of readers in the eye. No expectations, no demands, no problem.
Dabble, dabble, dabble.
This week, I took a big breath and jumped in the deep end, cannonball-style. I heard my silly scribbles read out loud and looked deep into others’ watery eyes through my own. No longer words thrown about, but instead words placed with care and precision to reveal one delicate layer.
On Friday, I came home with a new name — Writer.
Thank you, Green Lake Christian Writer’s Conference.
It’s been awhile since I’ve shared photos of my grands. I’m still amazed that five grandchildren have graced my life in the past two and a half years. Since I have writer’s block and can’t think of anything to say, I will default to my little team of kiddos. There’s always something to say about them.
Here’s my starting five line-up:
Hudson, AKA Hud Bud.
He is our starting center, because, well, he started it all and he’s used to being in the center.
Strengths: Tall, most experienced, smart and in-charge.
Needs to work on: Passing the ball and not beating up on teammates.
Elijah, AKA Eli.
This guy is our power forward. Don’t get in his way.
Strengths: Size, strength and having his own personal gym.
Needs to work on: Not crying when he gets fouled.
Eleanor, AKA Ella.
This little lady is a force on the court.
Strengths: Enthusiasm, spirit, and determination.
Needs to work on: Control. And how to dribble while holding three purses.
Charlie, AKA Charlie-boy.
He’s our speedy point guard.
Strengths: Quickness, especially if there is a dog nearby. And well-defined muscles.
Needs to work on: Being a little more aggressive. In a nice way.
And last but not least, Evie, AKA Evie-girl.
She rounds out the team by being the other guard, but she’s secretly holding out to be replaced so she can become head cheerleader.
Strengths: Always looks good on the court.
Needs to work on: Lowering the decibel of her screams.
a small drop of ink 