"Living in the privacy of God"

Smiles are a precious thing to be shared. They are the outward reflection of an inward understanding.

So many types of smiles. Happy, loving, in love, scared, shocked, sad, sick, longing...

So here today is a photo of my mother and my oldest son. Taken in 2011 in my living room. I ask you, what kind of smiles are those.
I see in my son, "I love my grandma".  I see in my moms eyes, "I am such a blessed woman".

It was the last time she visited our home.  Now with advanced stage Alzheimer's she walks no more and lives in a facility with hospice care.  Solomon had it right in his later years. Life is not fair.
 Should we have to watch our loved ones live in gowns and not know where we are half the time, with people yelling and crying and hallucinating around you 24hrs a day?
Only the wealthy can take their loved ones home with enough staff to care for them in this state 24 hours a day. God bless all those capable of doing this.. it is the best way if possible.

And so we visit. For me, I dread it every time. I don't want to go see her like this.  The reality of what her 24 hour cycle consists of  (on the outside and in the natural)  is sickening. Yet she still knows most of us, most of the time. She will think my brothers or sons are me. Ouch.. But after the first time it's just reality. Leaving is the hardest. Like leaving a helpless child in a hospital.

Your mind takes you to the the little things.  My mom, Marilyn, used to be an Arthur Murray dance instructor. When you danced with her, she'd give you "about" two measures of a song, before she took over like a professional jockey and tossed you about the floor, whispering, elbows up , hand up, back straight. You didn't like her leading but you sure knew you were better by it.


And now.. I pick her up and set her in a chair. The irony.
Ironic, that is, as well, that those of you who know me, know I was in a wheel chair with "leg perthes" from 4 years old on, (told I would never walk), and my mom had to lift and carry me everywhere in the non handicapped world of the 60's. Never complained. Yup she'd grab me under an arm and put me on her hip like carrying a sack of potatoes out the door to the old Chevy with the "Everlast' wheelchair in the trunk, and then off to try to find some place to shop without any stairs to navigate. This photo was me leaving the Shriners Hospital in 1960. What a blessing that organization has been to so many who could not afford specialists, and, Shriners is still private, not a tax payer funded govt. run money pit. I'm so thankful for all the Shriners who have given so much for children and every time I lift my mom up I'm reminded of all their heavy lifting.

sidebar:
So here I am blogging about my mom today, and somehow it still has to come around to me. "squirrel"...   me, me, geeze, does it always have to be about me somehow in the middle of the circle. Hey don't you love blogs where you type your thoughts and leave them lying there naked and exposed. YES.  it's where people learn to be real and realize we all are so much the same with different coverings. From the most famous to the least of these.

ok i'm back now.. :)
Growing up, Marilyn used to read 3 to 5 books at a time. One at every chair, and cassettes of her favorite preachers blasting at the same time in the background from the kitchen cassette deck where the smell of old Folger's coffee was coming from. All day long. Robertson, Hagen, Felsdick, Graham, Haage, Seville, Copeland, DuPlantis, B. Brim, M. Hickey, J. Meyers and on and on. All the end times books strewn about.  I guess now in retrospect that kinda explains why at any moment she would also pick up the National Enquire and quote it like it was the bible.  So funny, the things that intrest people differently...

 Now, today, she doesn't read anymore. Can hardly imagine her not with a book or paper in her hand.  She would say to you today, "Why should I read, if I can't remember it in 5 min."

So what's my lesson here today. It's not to be sad or bitter or angry. Not to focus on the negative. That's not my purpose.

It's this..

Sitting with my wife and our youngest son the other night, Marilyn was more in the moment than usual. Getting ready for dinner she was wheeled out in the open area. We sat holding hands and she had those incredible swings of emotion from "where am I, I don't even know where I am", to, deep loving smiles and the words, "i love you so much". Ouch..

In that moment, she reached out to Janes hand,  and in a far away stare as she touched Janes ring, she said, "I'm living in the privacy of God".

Take that in for a moment. Think about it and each word in context of her current life.

She then said " is that written on your ring?" we said "no mom, you just said it". She responded with a  blank pondering stare, and we all sat quietly for a moment.. in the moment.

My friends, what if, in all of this, that is it.

What if we all in the end, when our minds and bodies go, enter a private  world with God. A place where on the outside we are bound and shackled to the world around us, but in our very spirits we live quietly, protected in the privacy of God. Waiting for our earthly vessels to give up, give out, and let us fly home to a place or space where there are no words to describe "being one" again with our dad and creator.

Thanks mom, I need to pray more. To seek that same place you've now found. That private place with God, where all things are laid bare, where nothing matters in the flesh anymore, but listening for His voice, waiting for His hand, and longing for the day to "being one" again.

Don't know about you my friends, but I just can't imagine a day or a moment any longer in life without  in faith "knowing" God's presence, peace and purpose.  To experience all the fears, failures, triumphs and victories without it, is, in the words of Solomon, "meaningless".

If you are young and reading this, i'm sure much of it has little meaning yet. For those older than I, you may see folly and error in my youthful words. For everyone, I just hope you take a moment and ask the question. "Am I ready to be alone with God. To sit and to listen to what He has to say to me about my life?"

Do you think it will be questions and finger pointing or praise and adoration?
And when He speaks, will you smile with joy or fear, happiness or sadness?
Be still, ask good questions, and for god sake, don't stop listening. I think He's everywhere...

 We just need to find the places where it's quiet and we can actually listen. shhhhhhhhhhh.