Can You Imagine

Mike and I just spent five days in NYC again and it was epic. The highlights were Smoke Jazz Club and Dizzy’s. 78 year old legendary jazz pianist George Cables just happened to be playing at Smoke and Lucy Yeghiazaryan was at Dizzy’s and I was in heaven. These two musical geniuses were beautiful and inspiring as they both honed in on their crafts and just lived in the moment, gracing those of us lucky enough to be there. It was quite a contrast to some of the other shows we saw. I don’t want to give negative reviews to anyone so I’ll keep it ambiguous, but Saturday I saw an off broadway shtick that was advertised as comedy and really was at its core nihilistic cynicism. It left me with a feeling of sadness and despair and I realized today as I was debriefing with my spiritual director it’s because it completely contradicts one of my core beliefs.

I don’t know much of anything. I don’t have the answers to the universe and all there is in it, yet somehow for some reason, I was born with the compelling thought that every single person ever born into this world matters.

A lot.

Infinitely matters.

So much that it can’t be quantified or calculated. In my soul I hear songs about how amazing and special you are, how if you only realized what you mean to the entire universe you would be blown away.

And this comedian was contradicting that thought at every turn. There was some truth in the message and I thought she might bring it around to hope, yet she didn’t. She ended it with fluff nihilism. Now that may seem like a contradiction. Some would argue nihilism cannot be fluffy. I disagree. When a person ends a show titled Death Let Me Do My Show with atheism and dark superficial jokes, they have definitely missed a deeper potential wrap up. I don’t mean you have to believe in God to say something meaningful. I’ve studied many deep thoughtful atheists who are still very careful with their words.

Death is imminent. Death sucks. Death of our loved ones seems absurd. This is why we all struggle with it so much, regardless of our belief, religion, culture, race, gender, etc. I want to be very clear here. I am a Christian in the sense I believe Jesus Christ is the Son of God and has reconciled all of creation to God. I am an agnostic on most days. Tbh, I don’t know much of anything. I only know my core purpose is to give hope and love and joy and laughter to whoever will stop and listen.

I am very careful with my words. According to the most ancient religions and traditions, words actually bring things into existence. Let me say that again in a different way…

your words make things happen.

If your words are dark and nihilistic and hopeless they will bring about that which is dark and nihilistic and hopeless.

If your words are edifying, loving, hopeful, joyful, honest, and uplifting, they will bring the like.

I don’t know why bad…no…I don’t know why horrific and unspeakable things happen, and in this lifetime I will never make sense of it.

I choose life, I choose laughter, I choose joy, I choose to believe the moon in all this darkness reflects the light of a very real sun that I hope to someday see.

I love CS Lewis’s The Magician’s Nephew in the Chronicles of Narnia. Aslan calls Narnia into being with a song of very powerful words.

In the darkness something was happening at last. A voice had begun to sing… the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. It was so beautiful he could hardly bear it… Then two wonders happened at the same moment. One was that the voice was suddenly joined by other voices; more voices than you could possibly count. They were in harmony with it, but far higher up the scale: cold, tingling, silvery voices. The second wonder was that the blackness overhead, all at once, was blazing with stars. They didn’t come out gently one by one, as they do on a summer evening. One moment there had been nothing but darkness; next moment a thousand, thousand points of light leaped out… If you had seen and heard it…, you would have felt quite certain that it was the stars themselves which were singing, and that it was the First Voice, the deep one, which had made them appear and made them sing…

I don’t know much of anything but I believe my words matter.

I use them carefully.

I teach music to elementary students, some have lots of encouragement from home, others don’t have a home. I feel my purpose in this life is to say to each one of them “You matter! You are unique and special and if you didn’t exist the world would be less bright.” I realized as I sat listening to this sad confused comedian that I actually want to share that message with everyone I meet, not just children. I wish I could give that message to her and that she would receive it.

As my song Can You Imagine states from the Watch Me Grow album:

“Can you imagine

all the things that you could do

if you just realize

there’s only one amazing you?

You’re special in this world

from other boys and girls

cause you’re the only you that’s alive

It’s time to recognize your worth!

Can you imagine?

Can you imagine!”

Can you?

Honesty

To be honest I don’t know if anything I do will last through one generation or even a day.

Life is so fleeting and fragile, and people(including me) are so self absorbed.

I have almost 400 students and have taught for over a decade.

Has anything I’ve said or done made an impact for lasting good on another human being?

I sure hope so but I have no idea.

Today I felt small and insignificant.

I felt like a person yelling at the top of my lungs to people behind sound proof glass.

I felt like one of Horton’s Whos on the clover, saying “we’re here we’re here we’re here!” To deaf ears.

Does anything I say or do even matter?

Again I sure hope so.

I’ll wake up tomorrow and try again. I’ll keep trying day after day till my body gives itself up to old age and decay, and I’ll finally rest my head in the ludicrousness of it all and die.

Sorry for the downer today.

It’s where I am and at least you can count on my honesty.

Happy Death Day

I physically lost my dad February 25,2022, but had watched Alzheimer’s take him from us little by little for over a decade.

His last week of life was one of the longest I’ve ever experienced. Each morning felt like the Bill Murray movie Groundhog Day. We would get up and meet around his bedside singing, sitting, praying, laughing, crying while he lay unconscious. We would say goodnight around 11pm, and meet the next morning to do it all over again.

Six days in, on Friday, I woke at 3am and began praying again for him to pass. My brother Scott called me at 3:22 and said he had passed at 3:04am with no one at his side. I left my house at 3:30 to meet Scott and his wife to view dad’s body at the rest home.

My dearest friend had sent me her Apple Music praise and worship list earlier in the week but I had not listened. It automatically came on as the road curved toward southeast and the moon was huge and orange, hanging like an aging sun over the darkened city. it looked unreal, like a movie scene. I’ve never seen one like it. A song I’d never heard was playing, Love Has Won by Citizen Way.

As I’m trying to take all of this in, my phone rings and it’s my brother as he was just ahead of me on the road seeing the same surreal sky. He acted liked our dad always did when viewing an amazing waterfall or majestic mountain on family trips. “Did you see that moon? Did you see it? Look look don’t miss this moment!”

It was very profound. I was overwhelmed with laughter as tears streamed down my face.

Fast forward to May of the same year. Wichita’s Museum of World Treasures (my dad was the founder) had a “ghost hunter” overnight experience. The guide told me my dad was in the room and asked if I wanted to see his presence and hear his voice with her equipment. I skeptically said I would, and I saw some sort of light lines jumping around on the screen and heard a voice say “yes it’s me…sing!” (For a good six months before his death, I had sung at his bedside every day) I began singing his favorite song Edelweiss from The Sound of Music and the lights on the screen began jumping excitedly. Our guide began crying, she was so moved. Later she came up to me and said dad would contact me somehow in the next few weeks and he would make sure to show me it was not just a dream.

Three weeks later we took an incredible Alaskan cruise (May 28-June 4) and Covid delayed us in Seattle, Washington. The last night there, I had a dream about Daddy. My brother Scott and I were in a car, I was driving and Scott was in the front passenger seat. All of the sudden we heard Dad in the back seat, I think he was talking or singing, and I said to Scott, “Do you hear him?” He said that he did. I think we sang together and told him how much we love and miss him.

I woke up feeling sad the dream was over, and wanted to remember what was said. I laid on my back in bed and focused on Daddy in my thoughts. I think sleep paralysis (common for me)came on, and suddenly Dad was talking to me in my mind. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him mentally. There was some sort of code given that told me it wasn’t a dream like the one I had before. He said to remember it but now I can’t recall it! He also told me he knew I had a dream about him earlier and wanted to make sure I knew this wasn’t a dream. There was a song I’d never heard but seemed familiar to me because it was about being happy together as a family. I babbled quickly about how much I love him and miss him and asked him if he’s happy and he said “Oh yes, very!” He assured me he’s fine and of his love. And suddenly I felt him leave as I returned to full consciousness and opened my eyes. The whole experience was like a static filled overseas phone call from the 1970’s. I wish I had immediately written everything down, but I mulled over it for awhile before drifting off to sleep again.

After waking in the morning and telling Mike what had happened, I realized it was June 7, 2023, his 86th birthday.

There are some who would say all of this was my own psyche trying to comfort myself during a difficult time. There are others who would say it’s wrong to consult a medium. My heart and soul know I was given reassurance from my dad. We had had many discussions through the years concerning the afterlife and our doubts and fears. He knew I shared his skepticism and I believe he gave me these special moments to let me know, all is well. Whenever I feel hopeless, I listen to Love Has Won. Find it here https://youtube.com/watch?v=l-tzgWrxM2Q&feature=shares

Love Has Won

“This is a song for the hurting

I hope that it helps you to heal

This is a song when the worst of the worst

Is all that you can feel

And this is a song for the lonely

If you’ve lost someone you can’t live without

A song for the souls that are searching

And hearts that are broken down

Sing with me now

Sing with me now

Hallelujah love has won

Hallelujah love has won

God is with us, thank You Jesus

Though the battle rages on

Hallelujah love has won

Yeah

Sometimes it feels like it’s hopeless

It’s a war just to hang by a thread

Sometimes on this side of heaven

Oh, it just doesn’t make sense

And that’s why He gave us this family

With a promise that nothing can break

That one day we’ll all be together

And the devil can’t take that away

Oh, so don’t be afraid

He’s already conquered the grave

So sing

Hallelujah love has won

Hallelujah love has won

God is with us, thank You Jesus

Though the battle rages on

Hallelujah love has won

Oh, can you hear the angels sing

Death is dead, we’re finally free

How sweet the sound

How sweet, how sweet

All creation will bow

And we’ll sing

Hallelujah love has won

Hallelujah love has won

God is with us, thank You Jesus

Though the battle rages on

Hallelujah love has won

This is a song for the hurting

I hope that it helps you to heal.”

Vulnerability

I am a mentor to a student at my school. He has experienced a lot of tragedy and sadness in his short life and doesn’t smile a lot. I decided one of my greatest goals with him is to lighten his load, make him laugh, share some joy! We’ve started a gratitude list, shared pizza a few times, and played kick ball with a soccer pillow in my room. Today I knew he was feeling comfortable with me because he asked me to tie his shoe and when I began to do so he deliberately farted. I dramatically held my breath and acted like I was going to die and he laughed hard and long. I didn’t think much about it.

Until tonight.

I was driving home from dinner, having an emotional moment, speaking aloud to God.

“Why can’t we smell with our noses without collecting boogers? Why can’t we eat incredible foods without the nasty aftermath? Why can’t there be beauty without ugliness? Don’t You get tired of it all? Especially decaying and death…. Doesn’t it get OLD???”

I then said aloud “I guess death has its own beauty. Death is vulnerability.”

That hit my heart.

I saw it in my dad.

I saw it in my mother in law.

Their lives were lived with shields out and swords drawn, so vulnerability wasn’t easily seen until they were dying.

My mind immediately contrasted that with the way my sweet mama has lived her life, showing her heart, being vulnerable day by day as she lives. I thanked God for her and decided I needed Siri to write my thoughts down for a future blog post. I said very distinctly and articulately, “Death is vulnerability.”

Siri interpreted, “Gas is vulnerability.” At this point I just knew my dad was messing with me. I’d been talking to him earlier about how much I missed him and how much I’ve struggled. I’ve been hyper focused on trying to do what’s right and figuring out my entire life’s purpose.

(I also recently had a coyote sighting on a walk, and felt there was a spiritual meaning. Shortly after the encounter, I dreamed of coyotes, which I’ve since learned can mean I need to lighten up and shake things up a bit. Coyotes are tricksters and unpredictable.)

Maybe I don’t need to be so serious all of the time. Maybe I don’t need to constantly think of death and whether or not I’m fulfilling my life’s purpose. Maybe my student isn’t the only one that needs to lighten up.

Yes death is vulnerability.

But frankly so is gas.

My dictation: Death is vulnerability. Ha ha, ha ha, daddy you did that! Oh ha, ha ha ha ha ha oh, daddy, death is vulnerability, death death!

Siri’s interpretation(or King Jon’s): Gas is vulnerability. Ha ha ha ha ha you did that. Oh ha ha ha ha ha ha ha, ha oh daddy yes is vulnerability. Yes Jasper!

Big Shoes to Fill

A few days after daddy died my brother Scott, his wife, Cindy, and I went back to his room and picked up the rest of his things. His black leather loafers were still in the closet by his bed. Before his death, many times during my visits he would point to the closet and say “Are they in there? Come on, let’s go!“ I would open the closet and show him the shoes and tell him we didn’t need them just yet.

I don’t know how old the shoes are, but they look just like the ones he wore over twenty years ago when we hiked to the tea house at Lake Louise in Alberta, Canada. It would be fitting indeed if they were the very shoes he wore as he laughingly and fearlessly led us up the steep incline. Our oldest boys were five and seven and loved each minute of the exploration, only too ready to follow King Jon’s every step!

The day I brought his shoes home I put them on and felt the bigness of them. My feet slid around much like they did when I was a child. I felt the weight and size of them…big shoes to fill, too big for me, so I put them in my closet next to my own shoes. Day after day I felt the stinging loss of him when I would see the shoes that once marched up mountains collecting dust next to my Sperrys.

Our twenty-seven year old son, Keenan, had always been a kindred spirit to his Papa Jon. They loved to talk of wars and weapons, ancient civilizations and kings and generals. In the 4th grade Keenan wrote an essay about his hero, Papa Jon, describing all the things he admired about him.

Flash forward to this evening. We had family dinner and Keenan and his lovely partner Jen stayed a little later than the others. As we were talking I suddenly remembered the shoes. I asked Keenan if he thought they might fit and he said he’d like to try them on. I ran to the closet, dusted them off and he slipped them on like Cinderella’s glass slippers!

The joy I felt at that moment took me by surprise! I’d been ignoring how bothered I was that my dad’s shoes were empty, sitting in my closet. They was a constant reminder that he is gone and I can’t see him, hold his hand, kiss his forehead, or sing to him ever again in this lifetime. But now, they are filled with someone who loves adventure and life as much as King Jon did. Someone who called him Papa and cherished him, someone who King Jon was especially fond of.

My heart is full…and so are daddy’s shoes!

Our Linear Time is Limiting

God is not limited to linear time, but is timeless and time-full…non-linear, and beyond our comprehension. To try and limit God’s ways to ours is much the same as a baby’s assumption that their primary caregiver is an extension of themselves.

I believe God’s plan for the world has always been. The resurrection of Christ has always been. Jesus was the Christ in our linear time, yet He has always been the crucified and resurrected Christ and the world is filled with this universal message. There is death and resurrection all around us in nature, in outer space, in our daily lives. Those that came before us on our linear timeline were already saved by Him.

Unfortunately humans in our fear and limited understanding continue to make up religious rules that limit God and keep other human beings “in line” or “out of the fold.” We create dualistic dogma that separates us into the saved and unsaved.

Growing up in an evangelical church I had very clear cut beliefs on heaven and hell and who was going where. As I grew older I began to question the goodness of a God who condemns those who have grown up being taught other faiths than Christianity, especially when I began to believe God is a universal infinite Creator who can’t possibly be indoctrinated.

Cults are based on fear and group think, with an us and them mentality. God as I understand has an inclusive nature, desiring all to be saved.

Every time I read a passage in the Bible that seems exclusive I am compelled to find its source and who determined its inclusion into the Bible. As Christians we all need to understand the difference between doctrine and the God of the universe.

I believe the Bible is a wonderful clue to who our God is, but I don’t believe the Bible is equal to God. I don’t believe it is infallible and perfect, though I do believe God is. People throughout history have had too much control over the contents of the Bible and have used it to oppress and control others so I absolutely cannot put it in an equal state of importance as our mysterious, unfathomable, omniscient Creator.

Anytime someone uses scripture to be exclusive and put fear into the hearts of others, it goes against my understanding of God’s will, and I would argue is actually antichrist…for a loving God who takes all the sadness, burdens, and despair of the world not only on his back but inside of His very heart and soul can’t possibly hate and shun the very ones He weeps and dies for.

God is mysterious in many ways but has made it very clear just how far he’ll go to save the world. The church as a whole just can’t seem to comprehend that kind of love and grace. We continue to act out the role of the obedient brother who stays home in the story of the prodigal son, resenting that our Father forgives our brothers and sisters for being irresponsible and sinful. Yet we sin in our judgment and condemnation and are daily, no HOURLY in equal need of God’s love and grace.

Thank God that God is God and you and I are beloved. Very few people would be saved or even safe from our angry unforgiving hearts. The world will know us by our LOVE…nothing more. Not our doctrine, not our interpretations, not our denomination or even our religion, not our scriptures, or our casseroles, or our music.

Love cancels out sin, hate, and fear. God is LOVE, and we are made in His image…WE are love! Let us be love as we are loved…beloved.

Transformation over Transaction

I just attended the funeral of a friend gone much too soon. One of the scripture passages read really got me thinking. In Matthew 20:1-16 Jesus tells the parable of the landowner who hires workers for the vineyard at different times of the day yet pays them all the same amount. The workers who were hired first are upset they weren’t paid more than the others and the landowner answers “are you envious because I’m generous?”

This got me thinking about us Christians who have spent a lot of time trying to do what’s right, going often to church, giving our energy to others, and making choices we think God would be proud of. We then sometimes focus our attention on others who may or may not be “living in the light” and we worry about their standing with God.

Is that really our job? When we look at someone else’s life and assess it, doesn’t that qualify as judging? We are so good at fooling ourselves that we believe our assessment of others is out of concern for them, but it often helps us feel better about our own position.

God loves the world and everyone and everything in it much more than we do, and God sees our righteousness as “filthy rags.” No one, not one of us is better than another in God’s eyes. Believer or not, God sees us and loves us equally. While we may feel secure in our acknowledgement of God’s sovereignty in our lives, we need to remember humility. Only God knows the heart of a person, and religion has nothing to do with it. He is capable of saving all without my help or even my opinion, so maybe I should concentrate more on loving the way God loves.

Do I even want everyone to be saved? It’s an honest question. Do I want people who have been horrible on earth to be equal with me in heaven? Shouldn’t they get punished? I’ve seen so many awful FB posts by proclaimed Christians clamoring for public executions of criminals. Does God rejoice in our hatred of others?

Truth is, I am much like the workers in Jesus’s parable who were hired early in the day, I’m upset others who might not be working as long or as hard as me will get the same reward. I’m also ready to cry “not fair!” when God forgives someone who I see as unforgivable.

That’s because our way of thinking is based on transaction, not transformation. We’re always calculating, measuring, and building hierarchical lists. God’s thinking is based on love. This is why we must be “transformed by the renewing of our minds,” instead of conforming to our old patterns of transactions and hierarchy. It’s a daily struggle, and can only happen when love rules our hearts and minds.

Love cancels judgement and desires redemption for all. There is no fear when we love like God loves, therefore I don’t need to worry about others’ salvation, I just need to love them the way that God loves us all.

Contrast

And here we are again with a new school year! Where does the time go? I feel like I keep trying to hold onto it and put it in my pockets only to find it slipped out like coins through loose stitching. Our youngest, our baby who was so much younger than the other two I felt certain he would never grow up, is a senior in high school! Our oldest and his wife are expecting the delivery of their second son, our second grandson, any day now. Such an exciting season in our lives!

Yet at the same time my dad still is stuck in his bed with Alzheimer’s and my beloved Yellow lab Gracie is living on borrowed time with cancer…and such is life. There’s no such thing as a perfect season. Too many elements are involved. We are all connected. There is joy and sorrow, contentment and fear, life and death, all happening at the same time, and one would not be defined and recognized without the other. Just as Autumn brings the most beautiful vibrant colors of red, rust, yellow, orange, gold, and brown, these are born of stress, the change of weather patterns and earth’s orbit. Beauty for ashes. Even scripture likens humanity to the trees. “To bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.”

Isaiah 61:3

As we near the richest, loveliest season of all, let us be thankful for contrast, as it gives us clarity and perspective in all things, from artwork to heart-work.

All the Year

I know I reference A Christmas Carol frequently throughout the year, but I have never felt the following quote from the musical Scrooge to it’s capacity until now. Scrooge has just witnessed the whole town singing in joyful gratitude that their debts have been forgiven. He joins in the singing not realizing their happiness is from his future death. He then watches the Cratchets as they mourn Tiny Tim. He’s confused by the height and depth of the opposite emotions.

“Spirit you’ve shown me a Christmas yet to comes that mingles great happiness with great sadness.”

This week has been a week of extreme, polar opposite feelings. My 50th birthday brought great joy, love, and thankfulness as I spent cherished time with family and friends. I am humbled by all that I experienced in a fantastic party thrown by my dear friend and soul sister with laughter, fabulous food, wine, and dancing with my beloved grandson Theo. I felt so incredibly celebrated!!!

Yet on my very birthday the world lost a dear cherished person, a friend of mine from church, to a freak accident. Here I have been fretting over turning 50 when I should realize how lucky I am to even BE. 

Then, on the day of my great celebration a precious young student of mine was taken from us through a tragic senseless accident caused by a drunk driver. I was watching my 16 month old grandson Theo dancing at my party with overflowing joy in my heart that was mixed with heavy sorrow at the loss of this sweet kindhearted student, and I couldn’t process everything I was feeling. Such joy and gratitude and such heavy hearted deep sorrow. Seemingly opposite emotions, yet inexplicably intertwined. One cannot exist without the other. As CS Lewis said in A Grief Observed, “The pain I feel now is the happiness I had before. That’s the deal.” They are forever joined as one can’t truly be experienced without its counterpart. 

In this life we laugh and we cry, but let us humbly bow our heads in both joy and sorrow, as love and gratitude bind them together. May we choose to live every day to the fullest, making sure we tell each other how we feel and share our love with all we have the privilege to meet, for we may never pass this way again, and I for one want you to know I’m so thankful for you my cherished family and friends. Again I share my favorite quote from Scrooge which my dearest friend who I call both little sister and niece, paraphrased in etching on my birthday wine glass, 

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.”

Holding Patterns

Have you ever been on an airplane indefinitely circling just above the city you were supposed to land in an hour before? Chicago and Atlanta seem to be notorious for such holding patterns since they’re incredibly busy airports and tend to have many delays. Well, that’s the best way I can describe how my life feels like right now in a few areas. 

Death is such an unpredictable variable. We all know we’re going to experience it, but none of us are privy to the how or when of its occurrence. We dread losing those we love, yet I’m beginning to understand some things are more difficult than one’s passing.

Take waiting for instance. Waiting can be torturous. Just watch a young child who has to wait in line for anything! Waiting is even more difficult when we’re waiting for an imminent death. My dad, King Jon, is immobile, trapped in a bed with no memories to reminisce over, stuck in a monotonous holding pattern. I’m really at a loss for the point to existing in such a way. He desperately wants to go to heaven and feels frustrated he’s not there yet. The rest of us feel the effects of his Alzheimer’s almost as if it’s contagious since it’s now even hard for us to remember what he was like before the disease ravaged his mind.

I do believe God is present and all things happen in His time, I just don’t understand the purpose to this limbo. Life and death are difficult enough to deal with, let alone this ambiguous twilight in the middle of the two. I’d like to believe that God is using this time to prepare us for the transition of a world with no King Jon, but I’ve felt prepared for over two years and counting. What else are we learning from this? I’m ready to sit down and watch old videos of King Jon before his illness, celebrating his life, but it’s too painful to do so while he’s still trapped here in his fragile mind and body. 

 I know I’m not alone in this experience. Many of you are in holding patterns of your own. Such is life…full of transitions. At least we have each other if not all the answers. Thank you for your prayers, your love, your compassion. I hope I am as comforting to you as many of you have been to me and my family through this time of trial. 

Perhaps that’s it. Maybe holding patterns teach us to let go of what we can’t control and hold onto each other, oftentimes even holding each other up. God has also promised that He will hold us in His own hand. The next time I’m on an airplane flying in circles for awhile, I will thank God it’s just a holding pattern, protecting me from crashing on the runway. Timing is important, waiting is often necessary. Holding patterns makes us think about our circumstances, share our stories with each other as we find ways to pass the time, and remind us to hold onto what’s important…each other and God’s promises.

“I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.”

John 10:28-30