Joyful Writing

 As we celebrate our Dad's homegoing, I would like to talk a little about our Dad. First and always he was a faithful son to his parents and the joy of his older sisters. Then, he became a faithful US Marine and served in the Pacific arena in WWII. His task was to keep peace in Nagasaki. Next, he became a faithful husband. When my brother called me around the end of August  to say that death was eminent. We arrived at the nursing home and the room was filled will people. He told Mother that he was so tired, very tired. Mother washing his face and said, "I know you are. We've been married seventy years. Both of his eyes shot wide open and he lifted his head and said, "that long?" That one piece of conversation let me know my dad was still inside that shell of a body. After becoming a faithful husband, he became a faithful father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. When he became a Christian, he became a faithful follower of our Lord Jesus Christ. He and Mother we...

  I often wonder if I am the only "black and white" person I know. It seems easier to live where absolutes are clear, clearly written, clearly designed, and unmistakable in any society. You know who you are. You know where you stand. You know where you "fit in." You don't have to have a bullhorn--people just know what you stand for and in whom you believe. I think that sounds easy, but it is not. While teaching persuasive writing to seventh graders, we practiced topics by drawing a line down a sheet of paper; the left side labeled "plus" and the right side labeled "minus." Then we listed the reasons we could think of why we were for or against a topic. Then, we switched sides and wrote all the reasons why we were against something. Whichever side had the most comments was then used to write a simple five paragraph style essay; an introduction, a paragraph for each of the "fors" or "againsts" (so it might be a four or even ...

From a conversation overheard that made me think (2-4-18): "Grief is like a weight you carry around." It gave me pause for thought. What, really, is grief? It is more than a weight--it's like a weighty suitcase because it is not solid nor whole, but more like a weighty box from living, filled with both treasured memories you don't want to lose necessarily and overwhelming heaviness from loss that could consume your soul and force you down forever. The good, the bad, the dredged up memories may be worth keeping, but they add to the weight of your load to carry as you grieve. There are times when you put down the weight, open that ever present lock attached to your heart and mind. You can rummage through its contents to either lighten the load for the day, or to  through its contents to find just the right piece of the burden that you want to pull away from the other parts of the suitcase of grieving to examine for a season. A death? A funeral? A story of love lost or a...