Death and Dying

When God Speaks

I was going to write about something entirely different today, but then I read Duane Scott’s post over at Michelle’s place. I remembered something my Dad told me when I was back home this last time……As I read about what Duane so rightly calls, the hard hallelujah, 24 years fell away and I thought about my own period of deep grief and all the events that threatened to swallow my family whole.
Dad told me about the night that God spoke…….It was a Tuesday evening and he was getting ready for a prayer meeting he usually attended. Something kept holding him back. He chalked it up as laziness and continued getting ready. But there was a weight, a heaviness that seemed to be holding him back.
He went but didn’t participate in the prayer……He sat quietly in the back, trying to pray, but feeling like he wasn’t supposed to be there.
Oppressed by a darkness he couldn’t explain.
He says it was as if a strong undertow was pulling him back home. The voice, the Holy Spirit within him was growing louder and more insistent as the night wore on. “Go home and go quickly.”
It wasn’t audible, it didn’t have to be.
Right after he got home the phone rang. It was me calling from Mexico and to this day I don’t remember either calling, or the conversation. What my Dad did understand was that the man I had just married three days before had died in an accident and I was left alone…..in a country not my own.
On what was supposed to be my honeymoon…….
If my Dad had not heeded God’s voice, my Mom would have had to take that call alone. I don’t think she could have handled it.
So while the glow of the wedding was still bright and fresh, the bouquet still in bloom….while relatives had barely had time to get home, they had to come back for a memorial.
And I had to figure out what to do with a future I had all planned out.
The grief was so deep I thought I would never get out. It affected us all. God watched me mess up, veer wildly off the path at times. He watched me deal with the grief all wrong, and that must have been painful for Him to watch…..But in all that time, He never left me.
There are no words for sadness that goes so deep. I remember we all said, “How can the birds still be singing?” In all of our hard hallelujahs no words of comfort ever sound right. But now that I am so far on the other side of that grief, I can comfort others in a way someone else can’t and I know it.
But how to comfort when there are no words? The best thing can be just your presence, a hug….shared tears. A listening ear……..Stopping by after everyone else goes away.
You might ask the question, “Well, if God spoke once, why didn’t He speak another warning? Why didn’t He intervene in the big thing that happened…..Why didn’t He prevent it?”
There is an answer that comforts me, and I know it to be true. I know my God. There is a reason He didn’t intervene, but I don’t know what it is. Maybe it was because He was saving me or someone else from an even greater grief further down the road. That is what I choose to believe….it’s how I find comfort.
I didn’t always have peace about it, but I do now. All these years later, the “why” question matters less and less. Heaven is not nearly as far as we think. The joy that springs up in the heart even in the midst of unbearable sorrow is proof. For we know where they are…….

Though He didn’t keep the awful event from happening, I know He loves me more than anything, and I know He was with me every step of the way.

The death of a child is much harder for me to understand. I can’t imagine that kind of grief.

All I know is that He loves us so very much, even more than we can imagine, and He loves our loved one even more than we do.

Whoever reads this, please whisper a prayer for Duane, the grieving parents of his nephew and all the family. Thank you Duane, for such a beautiful and real post today and thank you Michelle for sharing it.

Louis and Jesus

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing. 2 Timothy 4:7,8 

When you spend any amount of time in a rest home, you get to know some of the residents. You walk the halls and notice things, people. You are grabbed by the desperation that seems to live and breathe there…..Many times the vacant stares we are greeted with make us want to dash out the door and take a deep breath of the fresh air of the living. We recoil at the bleakness of it all and none of us wants to think about the possibility of going there someday. I call it God’s waiting room.

It was on such a walk through the halls, that Elaine met Louis. He was sitting in the doorway of his room reading His Bible. It was the Bible she noticed first. She greeted him in the engaging way she has…..she is a real people person. He brightly said, “The book of Numbers!” She noticed his sweet spirit and the light in his eyes…..the gentleness in his soul. There was hope there. He said, “I read this Book everyday.” She told him how wonderful that was. His walls were adorned with Scripture verses, pictures and books. Louis was still very much in the land of the living.

She made a habit of looking for Louis every time she went in. One day she wanted to introduce me to him, but he was out. His family had come and taken him visiting. Louis told her that he came from a long line of Preachers. His Grandfather, his Dad and he were all Pastors, and so were both of Louis sons!

One day while they were having church in the main hall, we spied Louis sitting in back……his well worn Bible open on his lap.

After being gone for awhile, we went back looking for Louis but he was nowhere to be found. The nurse said that about 2 weeks before, he had died peacefully in his sleep…… Louis is with Jesus now. We rejoiced for him. He knew where his strength lay and where his hope rested. His happiness and joy didn’t depend on his circumstances. Instead of spending time wishing he were someone else, he communed with Jesus every single day in that rest home. Louis, like Mary, chose the better portion. He spent his days listening to voice of Hope.

So much of it is about choice, isn’t it? Life and death. Some have continued to choose life and some have given up and closed themselves off to it.

Louis chose life.

“Now listen! Today I am giving you a choice between life and death, between prosperity and disaster.” Deuteronomy 30:15
Each day brings forth the same choice, life and death. To dwell on all the riches of God’s blessings, or to dwell on everything we don’t have or feel cheated out of. To be grateful or miserable. Really, we are all in God’s waiting room, whether we know it or not. One small step away from eternity.

We will miss seeing Louis there reading his Bible. It was an encouragement to me, just to know he was reading those words of life, still trusting in His savior. But now when I think of Louis, I smile…..knowing that the waiting for Louis is over. He is basking in Godlight.

With every Monday that rolls around, I am amazed that I still have so much to thank Him for:

The best night’s sleep I have had in awhile…..fresh okra from the garden…..people who speak life to me everyday….hope for the coming cool weather….piles of books that speak encouragement…..shelter from the unbearable heat outside….the end of another week’s work…..time spent just hanging out, laughing, talking with my best friend who is so grateful for me, and tells me so often…..a beautiful awe-inspiring sky coming home from work…..being able to buy special things to send to my family, along with my love. #701-712

Upside down justice

“Can anyone teach God knowledge to God, Since He judges even the highest? One man dies in his full strength, being wholly at ease and secure; his body is well-nourished, his bones rich with marrow. Another man dies in the bitterness of his soul, never having enjoyed anything good.” Job 21:22-25
Does it ever seem like we are living in an upside down world? Evil acts go unpunished. Something in us wants, craves justice. Sometimes we feel like taking matters into our own hands. There have been several movies that portray someone doing just that. The other night I happened upon one. I was over at someone’s house and a movie started. There was a heartfelt scene with a Dad and his daughter lovingly interacting. Then it all went terribly wrong. A home invasion. Three men burst in, killed the wife, kidnapped and later killed the daughter. The father barely survived. It was merciless, they killed without remorse. I left after the first scene.  
I later found out what happened. The “perps” got off, so the Dad ended up finding all three and ingeniously divising each one’s torturous death. He ended up terrorizing the whole town and in the end, he was blown up. Death by napalm. It wasn’t a satisfactory end for anyone. No one got justice, and nothing he did gave him any satisfaction in the end. He died clinging to a necklace his daughter made for him. It was hopeless.
We may say about someone, why is this person still taking up air? They do no good for anyone, they are miserable and life seems like a chore to them. There is no joy in their days, and they weigh others down with their bleak outlook. Why, we wonder, can’t they just die peacefully in their sleep? But thankfully, that is not up to me to decide. I am sure I would get it all wrong.

When my thoughts meander in that direction, the only way I know to get peace is to give God back His sovereignty. At times like that, it is tempting to wrestle it away from Him. But He alone has control of how many breaths, years, months, anyone has. We must give back to God’s what is God’s. When I let it rest with Him, He blesses me with the peace and strength I so desperately seek.

My thoughts calm.

I don’t have to worry about justice. I know that belongs to God. All that is wrong will one day be made right. And in the meantime, I will rest in Him. I remember how mercifully He has dealt with me.

The Word is a tremendous comfort in times like these. When I read these words in Job today, I was reassured. Others have felt the same way down through the ages. But God doesn’t change. And one thing is for sure. I can rest in His justice, and mercy. For really, what does any of us deserve?

It is because of His great love and mercy He has saved us from what we all deserve.

Because of His love for me, I get what I don’t deserve.

The Final Frontier

One sings in her wheelchair as she is pushed along the halls, mostly Que Sara, Que Sara, sometimes Amazing Grace. She has an amazingly strong voice. We try to meet all their faces as we pass, and say hello and smile. You have the sense of wanting to give them back their humanity in this land of the seemingly lonely and forgotten.
When I first started to do the nursing home thing again, I recoiled. It felt like the Land of the Lost. My friend calls it the Roach Motel. You check in but you don’t check out.
Where my Uncle is staying there is a gentleman there who insists that he will get to Heaven by train. When my Aunt sees him, he makes the announcement, “I have my ticket, I am leaving today at three o’clock.” Hey I kind of like that idea, like going to Heaven on the Hogwart’s Express! One lady, mutters constantly….”I don’t know what the hell I am doing in this place.” Once she never stepped out of her house looking anything less than dressed to the nines with hair perfectly styled. Now my Aunt says she looks like a street person. Unrecognizable as the woman she once was.
They give these places fancy sounding names like “Rehabilitation Center” “Care Centers” “Guest Homes.”
I have to say, now that I have been “doing the circuit” again, there is something else that is clear to me. It is not all hopeless. I walk past rooms that are decorated in pictures from home, their pets, Scripture verses, shelves of books, colorful quilts in bright colors.
All in all, I have made up my mind that you die the way you lived.
If you are positive when you were young, you will be positive all the way to the end. Unless you don’t have your mind, that is. Then it’s different.
I walk along the halls and see signs of life and hope, and see signs up giving up.
It all comes down to life and death in the end.
I am determined that I will choose life no matter what. That is the hope I have in Jesus. That is the hope that Henry has. Elaine met him walking the halls. They got to talking and he told her he comes from a long line of ministers. He told her with a sparkle in his eye, “Today I am reading the book of Numbers!”
If I ever end up in one of these places I want to be like Henry.
Or the guy waiting for my three o clock train to Heaven.
And honestly, sometimes it doesn’t sound too bad. No responsibilies, a shelf full of books, three square meals….I just really hope that I can keep my eyesight and my mind.
“And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow–not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.” Romans 8:38

Heaven is for Real

“See that you do not look down on one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven. Matthew 18:10

Ever want to see what Heaven might look like through the eyes of a four year old boy? I couldn’t resist picking this book up as I strolled by the book aisle at Costco. I usually try to stay away from that section, but this is one I just had to buy.  It beckoned me, it did. I always want to hear what children say, since Jesus thought they were pretty important.

To be honest, my motive for buying it was simple. I wanted a bit of escape from this life for few hours. I had read “90 Minutes in Heaven” and found it to be totally credible. I ended up reading this one in a couple of hours. The book chronicles little Colvin Burpo’s journey to Heaven as he lays in surgery after his appendix ruptures on a family vacation.

To hear Colvin’s descriptions, as only a four year old would tell it, is precious. We have no way of knowing if he actually went there. Maybe it was a very powerful dream, maybe it was a vision. Maybe he actually went. I do believe that in these last days, we are seeing many things that the Bible talks about. I also think that as time goes on, we will see more of them.

“And afterward, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions.”

This much is true. God wants us to go to Heaven and be with him when we die. In Colvin’s own words:”Well, Jesus told me that he died on the cross so that we could go see His Dad.”

I believe that what little Colvin saw was real. I think there is wonderful potential in these types of books, and that is to point the way to the truth of Scripture. I loved how Colvin’s Dad, who is a Pastor, provides Scripture verses after several examples of what Colvin saw, constantly letting his son tell his story his own way and in his own time. This is a very close family, and a very real family. At one point while Colvin was in surgery and they thought he wouldn’t make it, his Dad tells about how he went into a room and raged at God while praying.

Later Colvin describes that during the time he was in surgery he recalled seeing his Dad in that room praying and his mother in another room, also praying and talking on her cell phone. That gave me chills, since they never told Colvin any of that.

One thing is for sure. Heaven is for real and God wants us to go there.

Sometimes it takes a child to remind us.

Deader than Dead

Ding dong my Dell is dead……

Everyone knows the blue error screen that comes up. You know the windows one that encourages you to hit an option to restart and reload and hopefully get everything back up and running the way it was before.

Then there is the black screen of death, the land of no recovery. That’s where mine is now. No service will be held. The new one is already on it’s way. The laptop, thankfully, is serving as temporary stand-in until it gets here. It is doing a fine job, but it is a bit unfamiliar since I don’t use it as much.

How dead is dead? When someone is dead you know it. There is no doubt. When Jesus raised Lazarus from the grave, he had already been in there for 4 days. In fact, after Jesus heard that he was sick, he stayed where he was for an extra 2 days. Jesus knew that he would die, of course. He just wanted Lazarus to be very, very dead by the time he got there, so that the doubters would have no room to argue that he really wasn’t dead, after all.

The disciples said, “Lord, if he is sleeping, he will soon get better!” They thought Jesus meant Lazarus was simply sleeping, but Jesus meant Lazarus had died. So he told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead. And for your sakes, I’m glad I wasn’t there, for now you will really believe. Come, let’s go see him.” John 11:12-14

Of course, by the time they got there he was indeed dead. Martha was concerned about how bad it would smell when Jesus told them to roll away the stone, yet she and her sister believed that Jesus could do it. They knew who He was.

Many of the Jews there believed that Jesus was the Messiah after they witnessed this miracle, this man who had command over death itself. However, many of the Jewish leaders were concerned and deeply troubled at this because they thought it meant certain destruction of the religious hierarchy they had constructed for themselves. They thought it meant death to them as a people, instead Jesus was trying to bring them life.

From that point on, they sought to kill Jesus. Not only that, they wanted to kill Lazarus as well! Imagine, having been raised back to life, hopping out of the grave bound in stinking grave clothes, only to find out that somebody was plotting your death……

It always amazes me, this account in John. It amazes me that someone could see a miracle like that and not only not believe, but be so threatened that they would seek to stamp out Jesus, who was the very embodiment of the God that they thought they so sincerely believed. He was right in front of them and yet they still couldn’t bring themselves to believe, despite the many miracles they witnessed day after day.

Some people think that all religions are the same, but here lies the HUGE difference that makes Christianity stand out from all the rest:

Buddha, Confucius, Mohammad, Gandhi, L. Ron Hubbard, to name a few…….All Deader than Dead.

Jesus is alive. He rose from the dead on the third day and He intercedes for us today at the right hand of the Father, and is alive within us in the form of His Holy Spirit, who testifies to this truth.

Shining Through

“I am grateful that despite everything, a lone bird singing at dawn can still move me to tears. The sight of a crescent moon in a sapphire sky can still take my breath away……”
I was feeling emotional this morning. A dear friend lost their cat early yesterday morning. She lifted her head and meowed once and then layed down as if she were asleep and that was it. It’s funny how the death of a pet can let loose all the emotions that have been stuffed down for everything else. It’s like you feel again, everyone you have ever lost before. Death is just so unnatural.
A bird sang alone as I opened the door to leave this morning at around 5:20. It brought me to tears. I have often written about how I feel that birds are little harbingers of hope given to us by God….to remind us that life is always, always worth it. So when I heard it sing this morning in light of all that has been happening, and Allie dying, and changes at work, I was reminded again. God is the glorious backdrop of everything else.
And though I feel the joy of the Lord burning inside me when I think of all the wonderful things He has done for me and continues to do, the challenge remains. How to get that joy to spring forth so that it spills over onto others. Lately I haven’t recognized the person I am at work.
How do you shed the light of Jesus when you’re at a place you are not excited about being? In general, I am very excited about being here on the earth, about what God is doing in my life. But then I get to work and I feel more like a wet blanket. I see the person I should be at work, and the person I am, and I feel the gulf between them. Too many times, I keep my light hidden at work. I feel like a firefly beating around in that bushel Jesus was talking about.
We all have bushels in life, what’s yours?
The challenge remains, how to get the light that is inside my heart out to others?
The place of prayer is the place I go when I can’t find the answers, there, and in the wisdom of the Word that brings life…..I hope something is shining through even when I can’t see it myself.
How do you let your light shine in challenging times?
“In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:16
You are missed, Allie! Thank you for the joy and comfort you brought in your six years of life…..

Waiting for the Fog to Lift

He sat there alone in his island of grief.
I could feel it from where I sat, I recognized it, remembering.
Just what is it we’re afraid of when someone is grieving?
That if we are too close we will catch it?
“Go over there” the Holy Spirit whispered.
I waited all day, awkward as I passed his desk each time.
Do I really want to go back there,
To that dark place I knew long ago?
“I don’t even know him,” I argued.
“But you know it” God said.
Yes, I do know it, I walked that path long ago.
And making contact, saying I understand, is a bit of going back to that grief.
That dark place.
I waited all day, and then tentatively, having to cross the room anyway,
I walked by his desk.
Said I was sorry for his loss,
Stuttered and stammered a bit.
I said the only words that really matter at a time like that.
“I lost a spouse too.”
And as I looked into his eyes I saw it.
Saw what I felt all those years ago.
Recognized it, felt it.
I pray that He recognized the same grief in my eyes.
That he knew that I knew.
More important than words.
We touched souls.
There is a consolation in going through terrible things once we have reached the other side. That we may help others find the way back though the fog. I remember so well, those first few weeks back at work. I was almost superhuman, but at the same time, moving through a pea soup fog, that made moving extremely difficult. Everything was labored. Life was going on all around me, but it was all outside. I was locked inside.
We may feel ineffective, like we don’t have the words. Many times we don’t. So don’t say anything. Just sit there a moment with your arm around them. Maybe shed a tear with them. Just don’t leave them alone. I can’t express how much the kind actions of others meant to me at that time. Yes, there were the stupid comments, the thoughtless comments. But all these years later, it is the kindness that emerges, that still at times moves me deeply.
The fog did lift. It always does.
“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” 2 Corinthians 1:3,4
This picture was taken by Andrew Schmidt at publicdomainpictures.net. I have always loved fog except for the danger of it. I was raised in the fog of San Joaquin county. It would come in so thick you couldn’t see the house across the street. I loved the way it surrounded everything, swallowed everything up. I liked the closeness of it. I never forget that on an extremely foggy day, I had the most incredible spiritual touch from God that I have ever had. That experience has never left me. However, the fog did get depressing at times, and it is extremely scary to drive in it.

Where isn’t God…..

“Praise the LORD, my soul,
and forget not all his benefits—
who forgives all your sins
and heals all your diseases,
who redeems your life from the pit
and crowns you with love and compassion,
who satisfies your desires with good things
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.” Psalm 103:2-5
I have always wondered why people who don’t really give much thought to God blame Him when catastrophes happen. They ask, “Where was God?” Most of the time they say it when especially evil people do terrible things to innocent people. Every terrible event in history it seems to come up again. I heard it concerning the Holocaust, events in Africa, every war that has ever been fought. And here at home it came up again after 9/11.
When it’s a natural disaster, the question comes up again. They say: ”Why did God allow this? I have also  heard some Christians try to pin it on God as His judgment on whoever got struck down.
Why didn’t God do something? The question should rather be, “Why didn’t we do something, or for that matter, “Why didn’t I do something?”  We are creatures of free-will, and that was given to us as a supreme gift from God. This is a sacred gift, and He will not take it away. We can use it to do good, or use it to cause tremendous grief and suffering for others. Yes, He could certainly stop all evil for good, and someday He will. But the time is not now. It has been said…..
“Evil flourishes when good men do nothing.”~British statesman Edmund Burke

The truth is, evil flourishes anyway. It just flourishes more when good people do nothing. It is the result of sin, and that is a word we don’t use much anymore.

God was watching, has been watching, and His heart has broken along with all those who have suffered loss. He has been there in every foxhole and trench, every death camp and burned village, in the towers that fell. I have heard the stories. His Spirit was there residing in people who came alongside to help, hiding people at the risk of their own life, putting people on trains to freedom, getting people to safety, jumping in front of bullets raining death.

Believe me, I understand about asking why and where when you are in deep sorrow. Some people have gone through some things so horrific, so unimaginably terrible that I can’t imagine how they got through it, are getting through it. But I do know this, it is possible to get through it victoriously with Him but not without Him.

When Jesus was on the cross they scoffed, “Where is Your God?” What they couldn’t understand was that by His very act He was saying…..”I am right here.”

“He saved others,” they said, “but he can’t save himself! He’s the king of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if he wants him, for he said, ‘I am the Son of God.’”

If you are going through something right now that you think is unfair, unwarranted and you feel neglected and abandoned by God, please draw comfort from the fact that He is surely with you. He still loves you and He is working for your ultimate good.

Maybe you are asking where He is. He understands that. The asking is in itself an acknowledgement of Him. That is something He can work with.

photo credit: http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/ Anna Cervova

When you know you shouldn’t

“Chuckles the clown bites the dust” courtesy of Google

There are few things in life more uncomfortable than being in a place where you know you shouldn’t laugh but you cave in under the excruciating pressure due to circumstances beyond your control. You feel it building inside you like a dam ready to burst forth, and worse, you are with someone whom you know beyond a shadow of a doubt feels the exact same way you do. You are both losing an impossible battle.

Under most circumstances laughing at a funeral would be totally inappropriate. However, certain events I have heard about would render it almost impossible not to. Those who remember the Mary Tyler Moore episode where Chuckles the Clown expires portray perfectly that particular kind of agony. Throughout the show Mary is astounded and disgusted with her co-worker’s insensitivity for making all kinds of jokes at Chuckles’ expense, however, when the priest starts the eulogy describing all of Chuckles the Clown’s characters, she loses it. The resulting show was one of the most highly rated, most famous and in my view most hysterical episodes ever.

There are a few moments I have heard about in my family and among friends where I can only thank God that I was not there. I’m sure I would not have been able to handle the pressure. In both cases, each were wonderful people who no doubt would have seen the humor in it.

“It was a dark and stormy night…..” sounds like something straight out of a Hitchcock movie, but it describes my Great-grandmother’s funeral. My Mom and Dad went to the funeral home to meet with the director who was right out of Central Casting, complete with ill-fitting black suit and dandruff like snow-drifts on his shoulders, and whiskey breath. They were led down catacombs of hallway to a stuffy back room where they sat and went over the service with Mr.Dandruff and his assistant. As lightning flickered the already dim lights, and thunder crashed outside, all they kept hearing was, “Don’t worry, everything is paid for!” They should have worried.

The funeral was held in a very old building on Pine Street that could have been a stand-in for the Bates Motel or a sanitarium. Flower arrangements were plastic, and very faded. The only saving grace was that a very nice minister showed up and did a wonderful eulogy. If he hadn’t they would have had Mr.Whiskey breath. By then, however, it was too late, the damage had already been done by a trio of singers. They lost control when the warm up started, which everyone in the service could hear. No amount of warming-up could have helped them. Now, my Dad had specified “no singers” but some well wishers no doubt wanted to make a contribution to honor my Great-grandmother. Whoever told them they could sing was badly mistaken.

After the very nice Pastor was done, they gave a huge sigh of relief, thinking it was all over, however, the singers were not done and they proceeded to start warming up again. Mom and Dad were front and center and in full view of everyone. The bench was shaking so hard from them trying to stifle their laughter that the faded pot of flowers threatened to topple over, and my Mom bit the side of her mouth until it bled. She says it was excruciating.

I also knew someone pulling a casket with a team of horses, when they hit a bump and the casket slid out of the wagon and the body came out. They were so mortified they kept right on driving! Tragic, no doubt, for the horrified onlookers and family members who hopefully were waiting somewhere out of sight of the carriage.

The last instance was a couple days ago. My Mom had an elderly friend who had survived the death of a husband and two grown sons before she passed on herself. She was known for telling jokes to anyone and everyone who would listen. She loved God and was a blessing to all who knew her. Even lying in the stretcher on the way to the hospital she told a joke to the paramedic. That was just how she was. My Mom attended the service with a friend of ours who also has a very healthy if slightly bent sense of humor. Everything was going along fine, again, until the singing started. They handed out the words to every song which made it worse, they knew just how many excruciating verses were left to be mangled. They were trying to harmonize, but as my friend said, “They should have stuck to the melody and gotten that right.”

Bless their hearts, I am sure they meant well.

As for Doris, she is now telling her jokes to the Angels in Heaven, finally home with her loved ones once more……

Even in laughter the heart may ache, and the end of joy may be grief. Proverbs 14:13

Disclaimer: I know there are certain instances where laughter is never appropriate, but I think that life is tough and we need to find humor in situations whenever possible. It is how I have gotten through my own grief. I sincerely hope I didn’t offend anyone with the subject matter. Lori