Select Page

Another guest post ~ coming soon ~

Six years ago July 29th was a strange and broken day for us.
It was very early in the morning when we learned our brother in law my sisters husband had died.
This story has been written and shared on several occasions each time revised a bit for each guest post I had submitted it to.
I continue to tell the story for many reasons.
There are new readers now and for those who don’t know the full story of my sister, pour a cup of coffee or a glass of tea and sit back and read a small part of the story of Mary.
(If you are a reader who has already read this, bear with me as it is shared again.)
I submitted this to Jeff Goins website. http://wreckedthebook.com1762_Wrecked_SharableImages_480x268_NEW2
I don’t know when he will actually post it but it should be up sometime in the next few weeks.

————————————
A wrecked life restored by Love.

February 11th is my sisters birthday.
Every year I wish her happy birthday with a knowing in my heart
it is a miracle we thought would never happen.
In 2006, after I submitted a letter to her doctor she was put on hospice with the diagnosis of death pending.
She had liver failure, hepatitis C, and starvation.
She was wheelchair bound with her 90 pound frame barely fitting the leather seat.
The pictures in her photo album paint a picture of our reality in ways, that words can never do.
Her husband died unexpectedly on July 29th, 2006. 
He was her caregiver.
It was a sad and horrible day for us all. Unexpected. Shocking. Numbing.
Our grief was doubled and so intense. We just couldn’t believe it.
My sister who was dying just became a widow.
When I heard the news I knew I could never allow her to die alone.
In the early morning hours my husband and I drove with each of us in our own thoughts in the silence of the car as she slept
with her head pressed against the car window.
Our family room soon would become a resting place for the dying.
A place for a hospital bed and hospice care.
It was a journey none of us would ever want to repeat.
She was drowning in the sea of alcoholism, and like life guards, 
we jumped in and saved her.
I don’t know how to swim so it was especially exhausting for me.
Our team was myself, my husband, my older sister and her husband.
It was really hard work for all of us as there were many things to deal with.
We gave round the clock care as her thin body laid on the sheet of the hospital bed.
I slept by her on a cot every night for 6 weeks giving her medications every two hours, so the seizures would calm down along with the hallucinations.
Detoxing the demons out of her daily was more than we could handle at times.
It was an incredibly hard experience, yet in the midst of the difficulty, we did have some comedy relief.
Remembering the middle of the night, when I was SO exhausted to take her outside to smoke.
I gave her one that was unlit as she laid in her bed breaking my rule that no one can smoke in our home.
She smoked the same cigarette for 4 days not ever realizing, it was never lit.
I just leaned over her hospital bed with a dish and said, 
“dump your ashes.”
There were none only she never knew it.
I would watch her inhale and exhale pretend smoke. Feeling relieved I did not have to go out in the dark of the night.
The hospice team said it was wonderful. We have all laughed at the image of her, in bed smoking the unlit cigarette.
I was very tired and smoking was not important to me.
In 6 weeks, we tapered her down from the quantity of a fifth of vodka daily to two small 3oz doses, prescribed by her doctor.
Alcohol has to be removed slowly from ones system or the person can become even more ill.
Her doctor was marvelous and knew what he was doing.
He believed in the process, and helped us through many difficult moments.
The hospice team was extremely helpful, and most of all the Chaplain.
He helped us do a memorial service for her husband in our back courtyard as she was too ill to go to any real service.
Day in and day out we took care of her and loved her through 
her wrecked life.
We were able to move her out of our home in 7 weeks and into a foster home.
She had learned to eat, walk and gain a bit of weight.
Instead of dying she chose to live.
Six years later she is alcohol free living in an assisted living home and thriving.
She weighs 164 pounds now and slowly her brain is coming back to her.
It is a story of love, sacrifice, hope and sister hood.
It is a story of family.
A journey of life, death, and life again.
It is a story of sisters.
There is so much more to this story I could share and perhaps I will someday as the words come back to me.
We brought her home to die in a safe place.
By loving her, praying for her and giving her hope her life was restored from a wrecked life going no where to a place of healing with a new future.
Each year I am thankful I can wish her happy birthday.
I will always remember the year we almost didn’t.

You count far more

Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God.
And you count far more to him than birds. 
Matthew 6
Joining Deidra on jumping tandem and the Sunday community.

What about this thing called love

I don’t want to keep bringing up a terrible topic as the ‘mass’ shooting in Colorado but something has been bothering me and I wanted to share it with my readers.
The other day our grand daughters were over and we were outside talking and the little ones who are eight year old twins went into the house with grandpa.
The oldest who is thirteen was sitting out there in the quiet with me.
We talked about the ‘shooting’ I don’t remember if she brought it up or I did.
Usually I don’t bring up things that are disturbing to children that is just my nature.
They should be children not worrying about life or death issues.
She is old enough to hear the news and see media somewhere so it was important for me to give her an opinion and I wanted to see if she was afraid.
She did say it scared her to go to a movie theater again.
We talked briefly about the ‘guy’ and how very disturbed mentally he was and how the media was portraying him.
My grand daughter Faith Elizabeth said to me, “but don’t you have to forgive him?”
I was silent.
My first reaction was ‘NO’ 
I don’t and neither does anyone else.
Then she said, “What would God do?”
Now that was a deep question for a thirteen year old to ask.  
Again I sat there in silence because I truly had no words to give her.
There are rules that God has set out for us.
The ten commandments have in them ‘thou shalt not kill’.
Does God forgive this type of thing?
My first reaction… is perhaps my own wish or prayer.
No.
In saying that I am moved to a decision then 
that begins another topic.
Is there anything according to God unforgivable?
What about my hardness of heart towards an offender who kills, injures or abuses?
Is that unforgivable?
Driving home tonight I heard on the radio a version of 1 Corinthians 13 from the message.
If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love, I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. 
If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing. 
If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. 
So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.
Question: how are we supposed to act towards this type of violence?
She challenged me to think 
which is why this is called ‘something to think about’.
My goal always was and has been to leave the reader with a need to think.
What ARE we supposed to do or say when it comes to these types of issues?
My grand daughter wanted an answer and 
I honestly could not give her one.

On our knees

We watch the shows of hostages and know that it is just a show and
the good guy wins and the bad guy doesn’t.
We want justice.
We want to know at the end of the show it will be safe and happy for everyone.
This last week we all heard and saw and realized
what should have been safe…wasn’t.
A crazy man entered a movie theater and  horrible things happened.
I cannot imagine
the horror and
the fear and
the sorrow
as the evening progressed into a series of rounds over and over by a crazy man.
At first I was sick when I  heard the news.
My stomach stayed in a knot and almost nauseated for several days.
Deep sadness followed me mixed with tears.
My husband had to turn the TV off I was so moved by the terrible truth of what I heard.
I watched and felt the intensity of the moments.
Then I moved into anger that little children
were in the theater when they should have been home sleeping in safe beds surrounded by dolls and teddy bears and warm comforters.
I was angered that our society will stand in long lines and pay large prices
for something that is violent.
In the name of entertainment.
Do little children really need to be at a midnight theater who shows a larger than life violent movie?
In the name of entertainment.
I was saddened that innocent people
randomly chose to go to a move that night and died because of that decision.
Movies are pretend.
This was not pretend.
Our lives remain changed just as they did when we heard about the 9/11 violence.
Any crowd can be the next bad one.
Any man or woman could be the wrong one.
We cannot live in fear.
We can live with values and choices.
We can refuse to pay for a violent movie.
We can refuse to go to a midnight showing.
We can voice a no violence tolerance and close out all wickedness.
IF we don’t pay the movie makers
they have no audience.
We want justice for the wrong that was done.
We want the good guy to win and the bad guy to be put away forever.
We really need to return to our knees a little longer these days
for the families who were broken by the choice
of one very sick man who didn’t care for anyone but himself.

Psalm 113:3

The Lord’s name should be praised
from where the sun rises to where it sets. Psalm 113:3

SUNRISE in Yamhill County Oregon

SUNSET in Yamhill County Oregon
Joining with Deidra on jumping Tandem and the Sunday community
{Photo’s take by Margo from Yamhill, Oregon}