Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Waiting for Death

One of my underlying sayings for life is to choose and celebrate life. 

In doing so, I find it is a positioning of myself toward God to embrace and walk fully into what is before me and to be able to stop in awe and wonder at who God is as reflected in the world around me.

Recently I came to the realization however, that I have been waiting for death and positioning myself toward it.

It's been a difficult season sorting through the myriad of emotions that accompany caring for someone with a terminal illness, especially when it is your mom.

When I first moved back to BC last July, my mom was going rapidly downhill and there were a couple weekends where she told us this was it, she was ready to go and wanted to say her goodbyes. Every day was filled with the tension of whether or not this would be my last moment with my mom, my last memory. There were moments in the middle of the night where I would peek up from where I was sleeping on the floor and breathe a sigh of relief that she was still breathing. Every hug, good-bye or 'I love you' was potentially the last and so I treasured each one. Every action I took was preparation toward her upcoming death. My entire life was on hold as I waited for her to die.

Although she still has terminal cancer, a year and a half has passed and she is doing leaps and bounds better than she was before. For now she's stable and despite having bad days, can still do some of the things she loves, like cooking, canning or decorating.

A year and a half later and I am still positioned in a place of waiting for death. Now I say that with hesitation, because there is still a reality that she is dying and I do not want to be ignorant of this fact. But in the process I recognize where I have stopped living in many ways and tried to stop her from living. Hope has continually showed itself and I have ignored it.

My mom loves Christmas (as do I) and every year she goes all out with decorating her house. Over a number of years, she has collected ornaments and trees and has a variety of themed trees throughout our house every Christmas. Last year (along with the help of some amazing friends) I tried to decorate a bunch of them as she wasn't well enough to and although there were decorated Christmas trees it wasn't quite the same as the love and detail she poured into each tree. This year, I came home from Portland and the front entrance was ready for Christmas. It was an area that I wasn't able to decorate last year because positioning 200 white owls on a tree and hanging shiny balls from the railing is not a gifting of mine. But she spent time decorating it this year and it is beautiful. And it speaks of life, love and hope.

There have been times where I have tried to stop her from buying new Christmas decorations, because my thinking is 'what's the point?'... but daily she teaches me what it means to choose life and to embody hope in the face of death. Rather than surrendering to her prognosis, waiting for it to happen, she has been living fully in the waiting time and the unknown. Rather than succumbing to fear, she has loved deeper. She is making the most of every day she has with whatever energy and strength she can muster.

Yes, death is a reality. There are things that must be prepared for and it needs to be embraced as part of life. But a greater reality is the hope we have and this gives great reason for celebration. This is great reason to live more fully. This is great reason not to get stuck in the muck and mire of death - there is a tension to be embraced. I tend to get stuck in either/or rather than recognizing that there is life that encompasses it all. I tend to get overwhelmed with the questions and my own cynicism. There have been times where I have been too consumed with sadness over losing my mom that I fail to make the most of the fact that she is still here and we can enjoy the time we have together. There are times when I want to shut down and put up walls to prepare myself, but I realize I don't want to miss out on what the present is offering.

So every time I see a Christmas tree, I am reminded of choosing life. Of a love that is greater than I can comprehend. Of the hope we have in this life and beyond death. I have said it many times before, and probably will many times in the future, but I will say it again, L'Chaim - To Life!

Monday, October 20, 2014

Mountains and Waterfalls

 Just spent a couple weeks in Portland for school. The days are always pretty intense but I'm always thankful for a couple days off in between to go explore the area. Generally I like to take my camera with me and just capture God's beauty in creation. So, since a picture is worth a thousand words, here's a few pictures from Multnomah Falls and Mt. Hood. Enjoy.

"The heavens are telling of the glory of God
And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands"
Psalm 19:1

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

There is More

Some days I want to run away and hide from life.

Sometimes this happens in a literal sense of me going away and at other times there is great temptation to disengage and find various means to mindlessly pass the time.

I have a tendency to withdraw. When something appears as a threat or there is uncertainty or confusion, I back off and put up walls.

There are so many wonderful things about life and yet sometimes the pain and potential hurt of life seems too much and in turn I give it all up and fail to engage.

 On the days when I feel weary and feeling done, I am reminded that there is more.

One of my favourite books has always been 'The Giver' by Lois Lowry. It is a book (and now a movie) about a society that no longer wants to experience pain and suffering and so they create an environment that is free from choice (because if you have choice, you can choose badly and hurt others), an environment where everyone is equal and nobody truly has feelings.

It is a world void of love.
A world void of colour.
A world void of family.
A world void of music.
A world void of dancing.
A world void of death. 
A world void of life.

In this black and white world, individuals are assigned jobs, a partner and children. They must follow the rules and use precision of language. It is all very uniform and static.

Jonas is a young man who is selected to become the Receiver of Memory. There is an elder in town (the Giver) who holds all the memories and it is his job to pass the memories onto Jonas. Jonas has only known a world of black and white, with no emotions, no drastic ups or downs.

As Jonas receives the memories, he starts to see the world in colour. He begins to feel and understand true feelings. He is dazzled by the memory of a beautiful sunset and the experience of snow. He is burdened by memories of war and death. He tries to describe this life to his peers (in the movie) and the conclusion is that there is more.

There is more than the black and white life they have been living.
There is more than the surface, pleasant feelings they have toward one another.
There is a deeper sense of belonging to be had within a family and a home.
There is incredible beauty to marvel at in awe and wonder.
There is deep joy to be felt to the core of one's being.
There are feelings that move you in the way that word cannot articulate.
There is pain deeper than words can describe.
And in it all, there is life.

In speaking of the control that their society has gained, the book says, "We gained control of many things. But we had to let go of others." Cutting out pain was possible, and yet it came at great cost.

Jonas recognized the pain, joy and privilege of being alive. At one point, he proclaims, "if you can't feel, what's the point?"

 So, when I am tempted to run from pain, hurt, disappointment, miscommunication, confusion, angst... I have to remember that there is more. A life disengaged is not the life that God intended for me.

I still live in a world of colour where there are lots of feelings and other things to sort through, but it is so easy to numb all of it and float through.

I'm reminded of the Israelites right before they enter the Promised Land. What lies before them are giants, fortified cities and many battles to fight in order to live in the land that has been promised to them. There are moments when they want to give up, turn around and go back to Egypt. Back to slavery. Back to oppression. And yet God longs for them to live fully into what He has placed before them. He gives them commandments so that it may go well for them in the land. But he gives them a choice.

The choice here seems obvious. Choose life. Choose God. And yet...

There are some days when I want to deny any emotions I am feeling and pretend things are all good.
There are some days when I want to play games on my phone all day and ignore what I'm feeling.
There are some days when I want to avoid interactions with others to avoid getting hurt.
There are some days I want to quote theological platitudes to myself rather than wrestling with the questions and uncertainty.
There are some days when I want to numb and sooth myself with food rather than look at the deeper things happening within. 
There are some days I want to ignore that my mom is dying and cover up the pain.
There are some days I want to move to a cottage in the woods and live by myself.

And yet, if (and perhaps when) I make these choices, the cost is great. At times my actions and words and avoidance reduces my world to black and white and I miss out. In death, in life, there is more. I need to embrace it, engage it and walk through it and continue marveling at the colours and the complexities of life.

This is the reality I need to live into today. Every moment. Every day.

There is more.