How is it April already?  Life has been turned upside down, I realize that this is not just my reality, but everybody’s!  Barrett was coming home, then delayed, then coming home again.  When he did come home, we were in a stay at home state for the covid virus.  So all the huge homecoming events were cancelled and we had to stay in the car and wait for him to come to us.  Kind of a drive-through-pick-up-your-sailor event.  Except the drive through line took three hours.   The excitement and joy was still palatable and we are still so elated to have our sailor/tickle monster/Disney dad home!

We had planned a “hunker down at home” weekend when he got back anyway, so staying in was not too much of problem.  He has met a lot of my new friends via zoom and I hear of his trip through pictures and stories.  But mostly he just wrestles, nerf guns, and terrorizes the kids to their delight.  We’ve managed a couple of family kick ball games and soccer keep away drills as well to keep us moving and grooving.

I’ve always said I’ve been through or experienced most natural disasters: volcano, tsunami, earthquake, typhoon, hurricane, and tornado.  Now I can add plague.  This is a weird one.  All the others brought a loss power, water, and even transportation, but this is the first where  all of these necessities are available, but the community is not.  It was the community in the tragedies that suffered along with us. They helped us through the hard times.  We would gasp at the destruction, laugh at the random things remaining (like a deck of cards in a house that was destroyed by a tsunami), hug each other when reality set in, and be inspired by the way the Lord used horrible events for good.  Our common struggle brought out the best in so many of my communities.  Then came the plague.

As a homeschool mom our daily activities were not rocked too much.  We miss kicking the kids out to play for hours after work was done, sports clubs, and the Y, but we have managed to still go outside and exercise.  Then the random stuff happens.  Lydia and Ronnie were playing and Lydia slipped and landed on her mouth.  This once again gave me the opportunity to say words that make me cringe, “Lydia, open your mouth.”  Blood lined her teeth and filled her mouth.  Her tooth managed to slice a flap of her lip open making my legs go weak.  I hid my fear and calmly held a tissue on her flap to see if the blood would end.  My thoughts:

“Oh man, I can’t take her to a hospital.”

“Even if I could, no one can watch my kids with this social distancing thing.”

“If it does need stitches, will the ER actually see her in any sort of normal length of time?”

“Will we get covid there?”

“I don’t have masks.”

Repeat.

“Lydia, let me see your mouth hun.”  The bleeding had stopped.  Praise the Lord.  The flap was a veritable flying lip flag, but I knew that the mouth heals fast so I rested in that.  Then came dinner.  As she ate the flap got angry and bled a little more.  Blast.  I still held it together and told her it would be better tomorrow.  I prayed with her and told her she was so brave.

The next morning was better.

Then I noticed that Annabelle was losing a lot of hair.  Like, A LOT.  It filled her brush and fistfuls came out as stroked it.  Her clothes were full of it.  I waited a couple of days to see if it was for real.  Then I looked it up online and asked some doc friends what I should do.  All of it was fixable but I needed to see a doc first.  Again, all the internal mental fights of social distancing, being in a doctor’s office with no mask, and the fear that it might actually be a sign of an uncurable disease, all run through my head.  We went.  Turns out she is dealing with a combination of too much stress and eczema…and possibly a fungus.  Now I have to go shopping for oil treatment for her hair as well as fungus.  Again, no mask, wondering what’s ok to touch, should I hold my breath when passing people, do I really need to firmly grasp a cart?  No one smiles, everyone moves out of everyone’s way.  If we come too close, we get a look.  The community is lost.  So is the humor.

The Craig problems are really small compared to so many families who have loved ones fighting the covid fight in a hospital, clinic, or grocery store.  In the midst of our serving others by staying at home, we try and think of ways to serve others…to find out how to have community with social distancing.  The love your neighbor mandate has taken on a whole new look during this time.  Zoom has created Brady Bunch fun in many ways, from family to school, from gymnastics to Sunday school, and from bible studies to prayer groups.  Isn’t it funny how this generation has created a reality where no community is needed, but when it’s taken away, that’s all we really want?  Why is that?

The Lord made us for community.  He made us to do life with others for our good.  Community is where we share our troubles, weep with those who weep, rejoice with those who rejoice, get called out on our sin, sing, encourage, process out our lives, laugh and learn.  It’s where we realize we can’t do life alone, we need each other to help us in our fitful journey of life’s pits.  Hebrews 10:25 tells us not to neglect to come together, but to encourage each other as the day of Christ is coming (loose translation).  So, how can we encourage each other when we are together?  To remind each other that our hope is not in a covid 19 vaccine, of course we pray for one, but it won’t ultimately save us.  Our hope is not that the economy will begin again sooner rather than later, although we can pray for that too!  Our hope is that we have a rescuer that saved us from something even more deadly than covid 19, He saved us from our sins!  How profound that God permitted this shut in to happen during the week of Jesus’ death and resurrection.  Our hope in death, is due to His substitutionary death on the cross.  He took our sin for us, God turned away, the curtain separating God and man was torn in two, and the sun went dark.

But He didn’t stay there, the ground shook and couldn’t hold Him!  He rose again on Sunday proving He has power over more than covid 19, He has power over death!  Oh community!  Encourage each other in this!  Your sins can be forgiven when you trust in Christ!  And just wait, there’s more!  This same suffering servant is coming back!  He’s coming back again to throw satan away for good!  No more tears, no more sadness, no more lost jobs, no more lost retirement, no more missing saying goodbye to a loved one with covid, no more losing another patient…Christ is coming back as the conquering King!  He wins!  Over all!  This is good news community!  There will be no more plagues, earthquakes, tsunamis, tornados, floods, volcanos…and no more sin!  Christ the Lord is risen today!  Hallelujah!  I can’t wait for my life to be turned upside down because of this!  What about you?

Let’s say you have a loved one that is so good at tennis, they can make it to the Olympics. They have previously shown themselves to be teachable, work hard, and not quit.  Let’s also imagine that you are their teacher…and qualified to be so.  But your loved one needs to practice, so you take them onto the court. You serve.  They just let it go by.  You serve again, they skip to the ball and let it go.  You serve again only to notice they are talking to the people on the court next to you.  That’s odd. You talk to them and tell them they have amazing skill and can make the Olympic team!  They smile, nod, and agree.  You serve again.  They just stare at you as the ball flies by them.  How do you feel?  Are you confused because they just told you they wanted to play, yet they haven’t engaged?  Angry?  Sad?  Disappointed?  Maybe all of these at some point.  OK, here’s the big question.  What do you do?  Quit?  Ask them questions?  Let it go for now?

The next day they say they are ready to practice, want to play, and even prayed about their attitude.  So you try again only to see them playing with their outfit, practicing air guitar, or singing a song that just popped into their head.  This goes on for about a week.  Now what?

At this point, if I’m honest, I get mad.  I really love this person but they continue to say one thing and do another.  They have so much potential and the game can be so fun!  But now it is just miserable and I don’t know how to help my love one engage to have fun and succeed.  It’s not about skill, it’s about a will to play.  We discuss about how fun the game is, that they have the skill, and are actually really good at the game and feel happy when they play.  Yet they still don’t engage.

The next line of thought for me is, “what am I doing wrong”?  Self-doubt ensues…”do they really have what it takes to make it to the Olympics?  Are my expectations wrong?  Should we try to practice again?  Do they understand how good they really are?  How can I help them see this?”  At this point…I don’t really want to play or practice anymore.  The fun is gone.  Maybe they need another coach.  Then I feel guilty because I feel like I’m giving up on them.

My mind and heart are tired.  I don’t know how to have fun when the other doesn’t play.  Yet it’s my responsibility to help them play…and they are good at it when they do engage!

Now add life outside of the game.  Sickness, plague, people dying for their faith, people dying too early, other people that seem to want to play the game with me more.  Where do I spend my time?  Who do I play tennis with?  Is Olympic tennis that important in the scheme of life right now?  If they don’t feel like playing, is it OK for me to let them quit?

I beg the Lord for wisdom.  Every morning, sometimes every minute of the day to help me desire to play with those that don’t engage.  Yet these are the players that the Lord gifted to me.  These are the ones that probably need me to play more than any other, yet I find the effort too hard some days.

If I’m honest, I do want sympathy and to be told it’s OK to give up, even for a time. But I love these players and know how amazing they are, they could really be Olympians!  I tell them so!  But each move of apathy on their part, shamefully, stirs my mad/sad monster.

Oh how I’m thankful that God doesn’t give up on me.  So often I’m the one that doesn’t engage.  He has given me talents and abilities but I don’t engage. I sing, lope, sleep, or talk to my neighbor instead of Him.  If we are made in His image, then I know He has emotions.  I bet He does get mad/sad/disappointed, just like I do with my loved ones…but His patience is endless.  He doesn’t wallow when its hard and I continue not to engage in the game of life He has for me.  In fact, He forgives me for my defiance and indifference of His help that comes through His word, church, and prayer.  He never gets tired of forgiving me.  How is that possible?  I got tired at 10am this morning when players said they would engage and then didn’t for the umpteenth time.  He doesn’t.  Why?  Because He is good.

He is a good God who is long suffering, slow to anger, and loves because of who He is, not of how I behave.  That is unfathomable to me.  It is humbling to me.  It convicts my soul.

If He gives me new mercies every morning, how can I not do the same?

“OK kids, go to the school room!”

Annabelle was patient zero.  It was just two days after Christmas and she was laid out with a fever, lack of energy, cough, and endless snot.  Unfortunately, the three of us followed a day later.  We missed church and laid on the two couches for a week.  A week!  All of you who know me and the twins will understand how unheard of this was.  I barely cooked.  We barely ate.  Tissue boxes disappeared faster than cupcakes at a four year old party.  After two weeks, we finally saw a doctor.  We were cleared even though symptoms remained.  I still have coughing spasms come on so strong and fast that it takes my breath away.  I can’t run or exercise.  Honestly, I’ve never felt like this.  We missed New Years and all events during the rest of winter vacation.

I don’t write this for sympathy.  I’m writing it for contrast.

I made a fast friend the first day we went to Hampton Roads Fellowship.  I was introduced to Shaina because she was Puerto Rican!  She grew up in Guaynabo which is right next to Bayamon, where we were.  We shared stories of food and culture and I walked away wanting to know her more.

The next time I saw her she was pale and weak…and it was only 6 days later!  I was told she was in the hospital for another treatment.  She had cancer.  Her mom had died from cancer at a young age too.  Shaina completed a treatment, yet so desired fellowship that she persuaded her husband to bring her to a sweltering park in the middle of the day so her three boys could play at the church’s kids program fun day.  I was there too trying to meet new people and letting my kids run around.  She smiled sincerely and hung out until her loving husband, Kevin, said it was enough, they needed to go.  I was so impressed with his care for his wife, not just bringing her to have fellowship, but lovingly leading her to rest before she was ready.  Yet she followed.

After that, Shaina had one more treatment to try right when school was about to start.  She missed sending her third son to kindergarten, but made sure to pick out his outfit.  I wept with her when she said the treatment, if successful, would give her a few months.  A few months.  She fought mightily.  And here is where the contrast comes in.  Where I groaned, she gave of her time.  Despite her weakness and pain, she painted the new church building when she had a good day.  She made sure she wished every church member a happy birthday…which means she researched when their birthdays were and acted on it.  Where I asked my pastors to pray for us, she rather encouraged them by telling them how their sermons encouraged her.  Where I skipped bible readings on mornings, she had a lady come and disciple her each week.

Shaina died on Christmas.  I wept.  We went to her memorial service and over 500 people packed the building.  There was standing room only.  Everyone I met had a Shaina story.  We all remarked how she never contrived her niceness…we all could tell she sincerely wanted to be like Jesus.  She saw the downtrodden and hugged them.  She heard of the sick and brought them soup and crackers.  She started a family tradition of blessing a church member randomly, whether it was Gatorade a couple days before a race, or delivering  a chick fil a breakfast for someone just coming back from the hospital.  She found ways to encourage rather than complain.  And so much of this was done while she was sick and in pain.

I don’t know why the Lord took Shaina so young.  I can’t explain why the Lord took this sweet servant home while leaving her boys behind.  I do know all of HRF mourned with many tears.  Yet we mourn with hope, her cancer is cured, her Saviors’ face is seen!  Oh how I rejoice for this and yet my heart hurts as I miss my wanna be longtime friend.  This friend that showed me how to be sick well.  This family witnessed to us how to face death head on and with a purpose. She didn’t waste her life.  She didn’t waste her sickness.  She didn’t waste her death.

So now as my coughing continues to take my breath away and the tissues continue to make our trash look like snow balls, I marvel even more at how this woman served in her weakness.  We sang “Is He Worthy” this week at church (a day after her memorial service)…do I believe He is worthy when He takes Shaina away?  Do I believe He is worthy when I mourn for the boys and husband left behind?  Do I believe He is worthy even though I will never know why He did what He did?

In my sick broken voice I proclaimed loudly with the rest of HRF:  HE IS!!

Thank you Lord, for teaching us so much through the legacy of Shaina.  We are all better for knowing her.

Saturday showed depraved hearts.  For all of us.  Sunday needed to be a new day with new mercies.  My kids were doing better than I was…I was still guarding my heart from childish defiance and ways which drained my joy.  I found myself quietly going through the motions of making and delivering breakfast while trying to get my kids to understand that I meant what I said about not wearing sweatpants to church.  Yet it still took at least two changes of clothing for each to remedy the issue…even though I had laid out the specific clothes for two of them.

Our 9-year-old neighbor came over to catch a ride with us and I headed upstairs to shower and get myself ready for church.  I have recently added some cold weather clothes to my solely tropical climate wardrobe.  By recently, I mean a got a couple of shirts this week.  I chose the puffy blouse this particular morning.  I’m not a puffy blouse girl but decided to step out of my comfort zone.  I hadn’t tried it on yet so I kept the tag on in case it didn’t fit.  I donned the blouse after my body cleansing and my soul froze as I heard the screams and bangs coming from downstairs.  I quickly drew on my eyebrows and yelled for them to get their shoes on.

We headed out of the door and my soul was still heavy from the past 48 hours.  We made it to church and as I was holding open the door for my troop, one of my friends told me that my tag was sticking out.  Yup.  Forgot to pull off the tag.  They laughed and said it’s a mom look that they have all worn.  Yah.  I laughed but felt the sting of embarrassment at the same.  I pulled it quickly and realized that it didn’t come off cleanly.  There was a dreaded red string that unraveled the rest of the tag on the blouse as I pulled.  So I rolled it like spaghetti on a string and thought I got it all.  After I checked in all the kids I headed down to my Sunday school class.

I sat by myself off to the side and enjoyed the interactive class.  As soon as it was over, a woman jumped up to greet me.  “Your tag is sticking out. It’s kinda broke or something.”  I reached around and saw the other half of the string pulled tag that I missed.  “Thank you!  I bet you were staring at that all class!”  She laughed, smiled, and shyly nodded yes.  I hung my head and pulled that tag with a vengeance.  I quickly exited to pick up Annabelle and her friend for service.

The sermon this Sunday was on gospel, safety, time.  Our pastor explained that our church should not just proclaim the gospel, but live it out.  We should be a safe place to confess and repent our sins as we are all messes and need the help and encouragement from our brothers and sisters in Christ as we sojourn this world.  And we need to allow the Lord all the time He needs to finish the work He has for us.  We are not a quick fix.  Basically we are disasters.  But He came, died, and rose again for disasters like me.  His work won’t be done on me till glory.  That’s a life of time.

I smiled as I realized my puffy blouse perfectly illustrated my morning.  I tried to dress myself up to cover my sullied soul but it took a couple of sisters to point out my revealing tag for me to fix the problem.  I don’t have to come to church looking or acting a certain way, church is for messes like me.  People that love me enough to tell me to fix something in love, not in condemnation or judgment.  We’ve all been there.

Then it hit me.  All this truth is true for my home too.  My home needs to be a place of gospel, safety, and TIME for my kids.  I am super impatient for God to do His work in the life of the gifts He’s given me.  I want Him to sanctify them now!  Yet it’s the time that really shows the glory of the Lord.  I won’t appreciate His handiwork without His simmering work on their hearts.

Saturday showed our depraved hearts, but Sunday brought the hope of how gospel, safety, and time restores them…with the help of a puffy blouse.

I haven’t always been a New England Patriot fan.  I know, shocking.  I won’t bore you with the details, but I chose the Buffalo Bills as my east coast team while I was in middle school and high school.  This was the era of Marv Levy where Jim Kelly, Bruce Smith, Thurman Thomas, James Lofton, Steve Tasker, Andre Reed, and Don Beebe tore up the field. These were the years when they went to four Superbowls and lost them all.  I cheered for them heartily and loudly.  They were the first team where I felt like if they won, I could win, if they lost, I felt like I lost.  I was on many a losing soccer team and I would play my heart out only for us to lose the game.  I would be crushed.  At that time in my life I felt like a loser in so many ways so seeing my team win would encourage me.  Then I would watch Jim Kelly on the sidelines cheering on his team no matter what the score.  He played to the end of every game.  His resilience and amazing work ethic actually made me write a letter to the team after they lost their 4^th Superbowl.  I just appreciated how hard they worked even when they lost.  My turn to the Pats was when Doug Flute left the Bills and joined the Pats.  My allegiance followed and has stayed since.

I mention this because I saw an advertisement of an interview with Jim Kelly and his wife Jill.  I hadn’t thought of them for years!  I had to watch it.  The President of the Football Hall of Fame held the interview with the two of them.  He let Jim tell us a bit of his path to the Bills.  He wanted to play for Penn State, that was his dream college but when they offered him linebacker, he asked one of his five brothers if he should take it or play quarter back for Miami.  With a sly comment it was clear that quarterback should be chosen so Jim went to a place he didn’t want to be.  Then when the draft came he kept begging not to be chosen by the Bills.  He got chosen by the Bills.  He didn’t win those four Superbowls and then he retired.  He met his wife, married and had a daughter.  He really wanted a son and when God gave him a son, the sweet boy had Krabbe disease and wasn’t expected to live over the age of two.   Jill thought that their fame and fortune could help heal their son but there was no cure that money or fame could buy.  At that point, Jill realized that only God could make sense of her (and her son’s) pain, sorrow, and tears.  She turned to Christ as her rock through the 8 years the Lord gave Hunter.

The day Hunter died Jim was accidently sent to the wrong hospital and he missed saying goodbye to his boy that he loved.  He was so angry and hurt at God for not letting him say goodbye.  His mother in law wrote him a letter encouraging him to step up and seek forgiveness from the Lord and help his family.  In God’s kindness, Jim listened.  He repented, asked Jill to forgive him of all his unfaithfulness and other sins, and his heart was changed.  But his life did not get easier.  He got diagnosed with cancer of the jaw.  The doctor’s told him he wouldn’t survive.  But he did.  Jim gives credit to God, his family and former players that visited him and helped him fight back.  He joked that he even got letters from Miami and Patriot players!  He is a cancer survivor 3 times over.

Jill says of her epiphany with the Lord, “He allowed me to chase after the things of this world that are absolutely empty, because at the end of all the emptiness that’s there, He is still there. It took the suffering of our only son to bring us to the only suffering that matters and that is the suffering of God’s one and only son.”

Erin, one of his daughters said, “I remember growing up, my dad always said to me, ‘You have to be Kelly Tough.  I didn’t understand the fullness of what that meant until I actually saw my earthly father be weak. It just drew me to seek the strength of my Heavenly Father.  It allowed us (as a family) to look to God’s strength and say, ‘Lord, you are good even in the midst of this, you are good and you are taking care of every detail and we have nothing to fear because we know that in death we can have life.’”

Phew!  I watched the interview in awe of these huge truths coming from this family that has suffered so much.  I saw Ecclesiastes being spun out in this century.  Vanity of vanity all is vanity when it comes to happiness without Christ.  I saw a modern day Job watch what he strived for slip away: fame, family, and even his health.  I realized that they didn’t believe the lie that becoming a believer means all your problems go away.  In fact, they may get worse!  Yet their hope is in that their sins are forgiven.  Their worst problem, separation from a holy God, has been solved because of their trust in Christ their Savior.  When they die, they get Jesus.  They get eternal life with no sadness, no tears, no death, no pain, no cancer, no Krabbe disease, and no more losses.  They gain Christ, face to face.

Who knew that 20 years later, that Bill legacy would continue to teach me to fight to the end… for the good fight of the faith.