Monthly Archives: November 2016

What the redbird means to me

Perhaps it was the perfect storm of emotions that left me feeling elated one minute and deeply grieved the next on Sunday, which happened to be my birthday.  I was happy to celebrate with friends and family and was ecstatic that my book is published as I had a book signing in church earlier that day.  But perhaps the sharing of the story of my life and how grief has created its scars left my heart aching for the boy who can no longer be here to give those sneaky come from behind bear hugs.

My book is hopeful and uplifting, but the education of love through loss centers on our son dying at only twelve years old.

I miss him. 

For life’s celebrations, there will always be the empty chair.  On that day, I was riding the high of friends loving my book, but my heart trembled with sadness still because no phone call from college would come from the boy gone too soon.

I’ve been asked a few times about the title of the book – the redbird sings the song of hope: and other stories of love through loss and why I chose that title.  Simply put, the redbird is our love note from God. I am not trying to be cheeky, but the rest of the story is in the book.

But I do know the redbird and a friend helped wipe away the tears of longing of what will never be on Sunday night.

To start the story right, here are two things you must know:

1). I love birds.

2). I have never met a stranger.

Many years ago, a dear friend asked if a friend of hers could come to my house to photograph cardinals.  In one text message her friend (whom I had never met) became my friend.  Bill had fallen on some hard times and he like me discovered solace in the winged friends of God’s creation.  From the moment I met Bill I adored him.  He was genuine, sincere, and oh so real.  I love people who have endured life’s scars and are willing to share them with the world. These are the people who embody hope and I admire them. They give me strength to take the next step and on some days to get out of bed. Our littlest thought he was the greatest guy ever because he has many tattoos and a kind heart and she was enamored with his ink and his realness.

Bill was welcome at our home, or more importantly for his career as a photographer, our backyard any time.  There would be times, he would quietly come and park on the street then set up to photograph the birds in our backyard.  His presence became a staple, and when the timing was right we would quietly ask if he would like to stay for supper. Those were blessed days of hearts intertwining – especially over the redbird  he was so hoping to photograph.

We have remained friends and despite his moving a couple hours away, we stay in contact.  A message here or there and an occasional in person meeting always leaves me wishing for more time.

And yet it was time or rather timing that filled my heart with a birthday greeting that seemed divinely appointed.

Sunday evening, I received a message from Bill not realizing it was my birthday. He sent me a sweet message, remembering the times spent in our backyard, with two of his pictures attached.  My tear filled response thanked him for sending what appeared to be birthday greetings straight from heaven.

birthday-cardinal

birthday-cardinal-2

Both photos used with permission from Bill Van der Hagen

His response filled my heart with such hope and such love. Through tear filled eyes, I told him that he was the messenger of Reed’s birthday greetings for me.

Wow! Happy birthday! Crazy! I walked around for 4 hours with a friend at sunrise and we didn’t get any photos then he left and within 5 minutes the male cardinal was literally sitting 15 feet from me and never left. Closest and most patient they have ever been, the female perched as seen in this photo at about 20 feet.  I knew there had to be a reason for their friendly demeanor this morning.

My friend, Bill, reached out because he was remembering a lovely time in our lives we shared, but I believe that God divinely orchestrated that birding moment.  He put the right person in the right place at the right time and then he stirred my friend’s heart at exactly the right moment to send me a message I so desperately needed as I rode the roller-coaster of joy and sadness.  It was the greatest birthday present ever.

As I write this, my heart is again reeling after learning of the news of the Chattanooga school bus crash.  While I don’t know the depth of their personal pain, I know what it is like to lose your child and to have your children severely injured on a school bus. In an instant, the world changed forever.

Some might wonder how you can survive a pain so deep that the scars will always be a part of your existence. For me, my answer is a whole lot of faith, a bunch of amazing friends, all kinds of prayers, and one redbird singing the song of hope.

redbird

Note: If you live locally, I have copies of my book I would love to sell and personally sign one for you.  Otherwise, my book about my journey through grief and healing (and the redbird’s part in all that) is available thru Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Standing on the shoulders of giants

Last week, my sweetie and I traveled back in time to the college town where we met.  It was just the two of us travelling the almost three hundred miles (one-way) to the North Dakota prairie and home again that day.  We visited the old Mayville State campus, went to the place of our first date, and visited with some dear, dear friends, including the matron of honor from our wedding.

The first thing that struck me was how we were transformed just pulling into town.  It was if we were lighter, remembering who we were before the hardships of life had crossed our paths.  The next thing I noticed was that while much progress has been made, there are some things that hadn’t changed a bit such as the sandwich we ordered on our first date twenty-five years ago is still on the menu.

sub

But the thing that made the biggest impact on our visit was just how long love and influence last.

I wish, oh how I dearly wish, the reason for the two of us to take off in the middle of the week was because we need to go back and the tickle the roots of our relationship. Yet, sadly that would not be the truth.  Even though reconnecting with one of my college best friends, picking up where we had last left off, was a beautiful moment, the gathering was due to the passing of her dad, who happened to be our physics professor.  Mr. W was also my science education professor.  Considering how I currently hold the same position at a university across the border, to say he was influential in my life would be an understatement.

The gathering was bittersweet.  The reminiscing was incredible as we laughed about so many stories from our days as science majors and all the studying we did to accomplish top marks.  (Or at least the best marks we could.) More on that in a bit.  Yet the ironic sadness of the last two times we have been together were because we lost someone dear (my son and her dad) was not lost on me.

Yet rather than lay low in the valley, I want to remember and in the remembering honor the man who really shaped my future as a science teacher.  Attending a tiny university was one of the best decisions I ever made, and one that I have never regretted.  One of the benefits (of which there were many) was the small class sizes and the opportunity to develop relationships with the professors.

mr-w

Mr W was a dandy!  He had a great sense of humor and a penchant for the dramatic at times.  He held incredibly high standards and he never expected we were capable of anything but meeting them.  He also had an understanding of the forward march of education and the jobs we future science teachers would be facing.

Let’s face it. Physics is tough stuff. Mr W always knew that we would encounter a few challenges, and he would answer our questions with a humorous, “Well, what in the cat hair?” Then, he would roll up his sleeves and model his thinking so that we could all understand how to dissect a problem like a physicist. But more importantly, his methods never diminished the struggle and he always made us feel like he was a co-partner in learning.

As for his standards, his was the first class in which I earned a B in college.  But standing firm in his high standards meant that he believed I was capable of so much more than I dreamed and he held me and my classmates accountable to what he saw in each of us.  Of course, I have jokingly shared the story of the physics final where I needed a 42 out of a 40 to earn an A in the course.  His exam was my first real act of rebellion in all my schooling (unless you count the time a handful of classmates and I sang “Let my people go” in the lunchroom when our high school didn’t close with an impending hurricane).  The physics tests were always full of choices (pick a certain number of 2 point multiple choice problems and a certain number of 10 point constructed response problems from a wide sample).  I needed only a 2 out of a 40 for a B.  I walked in answered two multiple choice questions, got up, handed in my test paper, and walked out.  The look on Mr. W’s face was priceless.  It wasn’t that I was defeated, but rather an acknowledgement of the other two tests I had that week – Calculus IV and Organic Chemistry.  If Mr W was a betting man, he would have chuckled at my gamble.

But probably the biggest impact was all the ways he influenced my future teaching practice. From the way he made every learner feel as they were the most important person in the room to his always infectious smile and “Hi-ya” greeting, his relationship building methods were lasting.  His ability to look at a classroom full of eager learners and polish us until we shined by always providing challenging and rigorous material while simultaneously providing support was legendary.  He had a character that appeared in his problems, Johnny Kilowatt and ask any of my former junior or senior high science students, Johnny Cheapskate taught us all a lot about chemistry and physics.  I may even squeeze a “What in the cat hair?” every now and again too.

See – that it is the impact of a genuinely amazing teacher.  It would be hard for me to separate my practice from the incredible teachers who invested their very best time and energy in me.  As the wife of another one of my favorite professors offered at Mr. W’s service, we who loved him as our teacher “stand on the shoulders of giants”.

I am so deeply saddened by his passing, but I am thankful for a small gesture that I began practicing shortly after graduating.  I went back to the college and personally thanked each one of the giants upon whose shoulders I stand.  My gratitude was met with hugs, tears, and yes, one ubiquitous “Hi-ya”, but seeing the heartfelt response to my admiration is something I will never forget.

Even in his passing, I took one last time to say thanks.  I could think of no better goodbye than to say that he personally made a huge difference in my life.

We all have the opportunity to offer a small act of great love.   This week is National Education Week.  Think back to the teachers who helped shape you or who truly made a difference in your life.  Take the time to send a short message of thankfulness.  If you have children in school, ask them to do the same.

Even though I earned a B in his course, his lasting legacy earned an A in my heart and I believe teachers are doing the same thing every day in the lives of millions of students.

Take time to thank a teacher.

I’m pretty sure Mr W would be proud if we did.

 

 

Greater than . . . less than

Today is Election Day 2016.  This day has many people worried about its outcome and I would be lying if I didn’t acknowledge I am one of them.  But a simple act of kindness reminded me that no matter who is elected into office tonight, there is one thing that will remain the same.

God is still God. He is still the author of authority and the leader of leadership.

No matter who your chosen candidate is, there are two things that God has called us to do.

Love and well, yes, love.

You might be thinking that is the same thing twice and you would be most definitely correct.  Much of the discord of this election has illuminated there are many people in the greatest country in the world who feel that their voice isn’t being heard (and this goes for both sides of the political divide).

After seeing these videos posted on a friends wall, for the last few days I have been watching “The Messy Truth” episodes by Van Jones (http://www.vanjones.net/the_messy_truth) where he sits down with real folks in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania from all political inclinations to see why we can’t do just that: sit down and have a civil discussion. The final episode is powerful when one of the young men talks about the things that move him and the way he wants to change the world.  While watching this episode I was reminded of God’s call to love the least of these.

I think Jesus understood, long before Lady Liberty proclaimed:

Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.  Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

that the world would always need someone to champion the least among us. Less than in the world’s eyes, but no so, in Jesus’.  I think He also knew that it would be unlikely for the political leaders of this world to be the ones to do that.  While your vote might have power, your actions and your prayers have much more.  Choose to love, especially those without a voice.  Your vote can be that voice, but more importantly, show up and be the light in their world. And don’t stop showing up.

Last Wednesday night, I was wrapped up in my own world of grading papers for my students and putting finishing touches on one for my classes.  Other than the TV on for background noise, I was oblivious to the world around me.  My teenager, on her way out to our church, noticed a little clear bag containing a battery and note hanging from our front door (which to tell you how engrossed I was in my tasks that door is 20 feet from where I was studying and I never heard a thing).  The care package arrived from the church around the block (which is not our church home).

battery

After reading the card, our Sister was blown away.  She talked about this random act of kindness for days.  She and I were touched by the church’s simple token embodying love thy neighbor.  It was a powerful reminder that indeed we are called to love. While we know many church members there, our political leanings had nothing to do with which house they chose.  Nope.  They chose us all, offering love without question and without conditions.

All of these thoughts were swirling around in my head last evening when – you guessed it – more grading and more paper writing was going on.  And it reminded me of just how important today is.  Oh, it isn’t the election that deems its value nor is it who is elected into office.

Rather the most significant part of today is our ability to love. 

Don’t get me wrong, I will vote and I will take my children with me to vote, because that right is one we should never take for granted.  But at the end of the day, no matter the outcome of any voting, we are still called to love and to shine our lights brightly in this world.

Choose love. Vote for love – not in the voting booth but in our hearts and our actions.  Let love be your guiding force in disagreements. Love the least of these. Love your neighbor. Use the emotions this election has stirred up to be love to someone else. Listen with love to those who differ in opinion from ours.  Let the first thing others see by our love. As my young Jedi’s would say, “Let LOVE be your FORCE”. The greatest of these is love.

Back to that call to love and to love. When asked to define the greatest commandment, Jesus answered to love God and to love our neighbors.  There it is the double whammy, one-two punch: love and love.

Behind the little curtain, we have the ability to alter elections, but behind the cloak of love, we have the power to change the world.