Monday Meditation

Photo by:  Grant McCurdy

"That's what art can do- wake us up and remind us of who we are, who we were, and what we might become." 

 ~Bo Bartlett

Legacy: Eliot

Photo by: Elena Prokofyeva

This Fall, I was at a wedding of a former youth group member.  It was a joyous occasion and I had fun catching up on all the news.  In the midst of the joy came a moment of sadness.  I asked about another youth group member, Eliot.

There was something unique and beautiful about Eliot.  He was funny, but not in the same way that others are.  He had a great personality.  He was caring, yet he was quick to point out the truth when he saw it.  He was also a bit lost at times, a bit of a wandering soul.  As a young college grad, I was sure that if I just took him to the latest Christian conference, he'd find God and all would be well.  Real life isn't like that of course.  Real ministry is messy and challenging.  People are unique and their story is their own.

For years after I had moved on to a new church and a new area of the country, I would still think of Eliot.  When he came to mind, I'd pray for him and hope that he'd found his way in life.  I hadn't heard anything about him in about 13 years.  At the wedding, I asked about him casually, wondering where he was, what he was up to.  They told me he had died.  Drugs, they thought, or maybe alcohol.  "So sad." "He had been in rehab." They told me this as if it was something I could understand or comprehend.  I nodded and agreed, "How sad," as the conversation moved on to other topics.

This news has haunted me ever since.  Although it's been two and a half years since his death, I am freshly grieving the news.  The uncertainty of it was the hardest part.  How?  Why?  What happened?  Recently I did some research online and found out that he had passed away at age 27.  He had struggled with addiction for ten years, but he had been sober for a long stretch, with a girlfriend and a job at a California tech company.  He had quickly relapsed and died of an accidental overdose.  His father said in an article that his friends described him as funny, intelligent, sensitive; the one who kept them all balanced.

Where to go with this news?  What is the legacy of this intelligent, funny, caring young man?  His father said in the article that through this tragedy we have to "become a larger vessel.  We have to embrace life with all of its joys and sorrows."  I think that's just it.  Some legacies may seem clouded by the way the person died or the shortness of their life.  But, they are legacies nonetheless.  I knew Eliot for only about four years, but he made an impression on me.  He stood out as someone who cared about others and who saw the humor in life.  He wanted to seek out truth and to live life to the full.

Another part of his legacy will live on in the "What ifs?"  We can't go back and save him from drugs and alcohol.  We can't change that part of his story now.  What we do have is the present and the future.  We can use his story as fuel to help us to seek out others who are struggling and to play a part in their story.  We can offer the caring, sensitive presence to them that Eliot was to others.  In so doing, we become a larger vessel.

Monday Meditation

Photo by:  Tim Marshall

"You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown where feet may fail
And there I find You in the mystery
In oceans deep
My faith will stand"
~  Oceans (Hillsong United)

Legacy: Fran

Photo by:  Elena Prokofyeva

I knew Fran from the church where I worked for nine years.  When I found out that she had passed, I drove the 45 minutes back to the church to attend her funeral, because she was one of the sweetest people I have ever met.  Whenever I would see her in the hallways or the pews at church, she would always greet me with a smile and a hug.  In her Southern accent, she'd say, "Hi, Lisa," her sweet, shortened version for my name.  Fran was the grandmother of one of my youth group students and I always enjoyed greeting her and talking with her and her late husband Fred.  At her funeral, I enjoyed learning more about her life and her legacy.

When thinking about Fran's legacy, there are so many things that I could include.  The three things that stand out to me about her life are her relationship with her husband, the way she raised her children and her faith.

I loved hearing about Fran and Fred's relationship.  They met one day in an elevator at work and that led to an almost seventy-year relationship.  They were loving and caring towards each other throughout their lives.  I remember seeing them hug each other at church and I would smile and hope that I will still hug my husband so lovingly at her age.  She supported her husband in his career through her administrative skills and I'm sure with emotional support as well.  They seemed to truly have a partnership, that which good marriages are built on.  She and Fred were an example to us all of what marriage should be.

Secondly, Fran did an amazing job raising her children and being a part of her grandchildren's lives.  They shared that she was very involved in their lives and hobbies, never missing a play or ballgame.  She also made sure to celebrate each milestone and made their birthdays and holidays very special.  She cared for each one and shared with them her faith.

Fran grew up in the Presbyterian church and began teaching Sunday school at age 16.  I was amazed to learn that she continued teaching it for over 30 years!  One can only imagine how many children's lives she touched.  Her faith gave her a positive attitude and an excitement about life.  She wanted to share it lovingly with those around her.

In describing Fran, the words to "The Old Rugged Cross" come to mind:  "I will cling to the old rugged cross, and exchange it someday for a crown."  I can picture Fran up there in heaven, dancing with Fred and wearing a beautiful crown with many-colored stones.

May we all seek to be a little more like Fran.

Monday Meditation

Photo by:  Michael Ramey

"The closing of a door can bring blessed privacy and comfort- the opening, terror.  Conversely,  the closing of a door can be a sad and final thing- the opening a wonderfully joyous moment."  
~Andy Rooney

Monday Meditation

"Shout for joy, O heavens; rejoice, O earth; burst into song, O mountains!  For the Lord comforts his people."  ~Isaiah 49:13

Photo by:  Linda Xu

Legacy: Betty

Photo by Elena Prokofyeva

For the second person in my legacy series, I'd like to write about my friend Betty.  Betty passed away in November in her 90's.  It may seem odd, but I still don't believe she has passed.  I know it in my head, but in my spirit she lives on.  It feels as though I should still see her walking down the halls of my old church when I visit.  I guess I haven't quite reached the acceptance stage of grief for Betty.
A huge part of Betty that will live on is her humbleness of spirit.  Even when she passed, she did not want attention drawn to herself.  A funeral was not supposed to be held to remember her, so we gathered for lunch in the fellowship hall of her church to celebrate her life through fellowship and shared remembrances.  In some ways, I felt a little hurt by this.  Betty deserved to have a full-out funeral and to be remembered for the amazing person that she was.  But, that's not what she wanted.  The time we did share was nice and I think she may have approved.

When I think about the legacy Betty left, I first think of the many people she touched in quiet ways.  She was a "worker bee" type who spent many hours volunteering at the church.  Being on staff at the time, I saw her at random times throughout the day and week, working on various tasks.  As a staff, we would often point out that we needed to try and make a list of all that Betty did in case she ever passed and we didn't even know all of the small tasks that we'd have to find someone else to fulfill.  That was her way of serving.  She had her tasks and she did them well.  She also loved the fellowship of being at the church, especially after her son passed.  Betty loved to talk and I had many conversations with her in the front office, in the hallways, or in my office, when she went up to check the balcony.  Conversations with Betty led to a wide range of topics.  It may start out with frustration about the copier, but she would end up talking about her past and her travels or how much she loved the kids in her neighborhood.  I have to laugh because some days I had to calculate whether I had the time to go down and make a copy when Betty was there, because a two minute task could turn into 30 minutes!  But I enjoyed talking with her and I knew deep down that even talking to Betty was ministry, because sometimes she just needed to talk.

To me, Betty was an encourager.  As the youth director at the time, Betty would always tell me what a good job I was doing and how important she believed youth ministry was for teenagers, especially in our area.  She really "got it."  Something that not everyone does.  She didn't believe teenagers were a nuisance, but people to be treasured and cared for.  This was evidenced by her taking care of the balcony, a frequent hangout for the teens of the church.  Instead of getting upset about the teens writing in the pew pads, she would read their notes and look at their drawings.  The drawings often tickled her to laughter.  The notes drew her to prayer.  A few times she shared them with me out of concern.  Youth ministry needs more Betty's.

Betty also encouraged those in her "inner circle" to step outside of themselves to care for her.  She would never say she wanted this or asked for it, but as a widow living by herself, she needed her friends and fellow church members to step up and help her when she had one of her falls or when she needed reminders to eat more or a ride to the doctor.  As a widow, God used many others to play a role in her care. I believe there is something beautiful in that.

A big part of Betty's legacy is her role as a military wife and a mother of an adopted son.  I don't know a whole lot about this area of her life, but I know she gave it all she had.  She took on the challenges of life as a military wife and worked extremely hard to make a good life for her family.  Even in her widowhood, she still kept that up in her stubbornness and not wanting to ask for help.  She had to do things on her own for many years through moves and deployments so why should now be any different?  I also don't know the depths of her relationship with her son, but I know that she loved him with abandon.  She worked hard to help him through all of his medical challenges and for years she spent most of her life taking him to and from doctors and dialysis appointments.  She loved him despite many challenges and worked hard for her son.

Betty's roles as a humble worker bee, encourager, a catalyst for care and loving wife and mother will live on.  She also really liked milk shakes from Chick-fil-A. Let's go have one in her honor!