You are currently browsing the Bruce Smith weblog archives for the day 13. January 2009.
13. January 2009 by BruceSmith.
Disaster as a Turning Point: a tribute to Mamaw
“The bend in the road is not the end of the road, unless you refuse to make the turn.”
— Anon
January 13, 2005, was a turning point, a critical moment. On that date I had to deal with a significant disaster in my life. This disaster came at a time when all around me was chaos, uncertainty, and pain. I was going through major transitions in my family, finances, and the call of God for my future. All the difficulties had been in place for some time, and the level of stress was enormous at the start of a new year. Yet somehow, I knew deep within me that in the midst of this storm God was at work. January 13, 2005 was to be a day in which all the elements of the storm would come to a head, and the beginning of a new day of hope would begin for me. “Unlucky thirteen” was to be a day of death in my family. “Mamaw,” the matriarch of our family, passed away and went on to be with her Maker. In her passing, I found pain and sorrow but also perspective.
Mamaw’s passing was not a shock to anyone in our family, and we were all about as “prepared” as we could be for her last day. She had been diagnosed with cancer three years prior, and was told she only had six months to live. We all expected this day would come many months earlier than it did, but as Mamaw was prone to do over and over again in her life, she thanked the doctors for their diagnosis, looked them squarely in the eyes and told them and us that she was in God’s hands and suspected she would be around a bit longer that anyone might assume. She proved herself and her God right, yet again. Mildred Findley was never one to place more faith in the wisdom of this world than in the truths she read in the scriptures every day. The many Bibles she had in her home were a demonstration to her source of trust. Each of them, of which I now have the last one she had been poring through, are a visible reminder of how she devoured the statutes of God, for they are full of notes, paperclips, and highlights.
Mamaw was not an accomplished academic, she was not a world traveler, she was not well known, she was not rich, and her contributions to life on this planet were not visible to most of the world. However, she lived a life of love and devotion to God and His call to grace and compassion. Mamaw rarely traveled more than a couple hundreds miles from her home. She was a simple woman prone to state things in a heart-felt country tone. While none of her daily sermons, anecdotes, or directives was recorded for posterity, her teachings are alive and well in the hearts of all of those who had the privilege of knowing her. To know Mamaw was to be loved, deeply.
Though I loved my grandmother a great deal, and though I knew who and what she was about, the full impact of just how important her contribution in my life was did not come until I had to prepare for her funeral. As I reflected upon this simple but profound life, I came to realize just how God used her to form me over the years. In my preparations for the sermon, I wept many tears, but not just tears of sorrow. The tears were coming from the great loss, yes, but also from the deep sense of gratitude to have had the blessing of God to grow up around this woman. Her life, I was now understanding in ways I had not before, had given me the foundation to withstand many of the intense tempests that have come my way. Mamaw’s life and death, a turning point for all who knew her, left a mark on me. Her legacy will live on.
What was this life about? What lasting good can really come from such a simple existence? Mildred Findley’s life was a humble one, but it was a life well-lived, and that’s the point. All of us want to know that our lives mean something, don’t we? I have heard it said that what your life really amounts to is not the dates on your tombstone, but the dash in between. The dates are on Mamaw’s tombstone, yet it is the dash that speaks so much to all of us who loved her. That dash was filled with grace amidst struggle, compassion amidst sickness, care for scraped knees, a cold washcloth on the forehead on sick days, big buckets of bubble gum, and tons of loving words. Mildred was a woman acquainted with the disasters of this world, and yet she did not find herself consumed with her own pain. Throughout this well-lived life, she gave of herself to others with abandon. She cared for the elderly with unceasing compassion, she showed great love to the many she cared for as they struggled with terminal illness, and she always, without reservation, pointed the sufferer’s gaze upward to a compassionate God. Time spent in Mamaw’s presence was always restoring. No one who showed up at her house needed an invitation, and all were welcome. To know Mamaw was to know you were loved, loved for just showing up. I will never forget the trips to the nursing homes when she would take me there to see Granny Findley. The huge Christmas and Thanksgiving celebrations that were so full of food, fun and family, and the countless days she cared for me and fought for me remain in my soul. The sleepless nights she spent for months on end caring for Papaw when he was nearing his end, and the nights she stayed up with my mother as my step-father lost the battle with cancer at the age of only twenty-seven are etched in my soul as well.
In the days leading up to January 13, 2005, our family kept an around-the-clock vigil. Mamaw was coherent and involved with us until the last day or two. It was staggering to see the peace, contentment, and certainty about her future that she demonstrated all the way through. Though we were there to comfort her, she was really the one comforting us. It was surreal. I think she hung on until she absolutely knew we were ready to move on even as she passed on to bigger and better things above. Literally, until the last day here on earth, she was full of grins, handing out treats to the kids (oh, that bubble gum!), and having all of us climb up in the bed next to her so she could love on us.
“Amazing love, how can it be?” I watched as she took her last breath. I held her in my arms and whispered to her that it was alright for her to move on. And as I sit here writing this with tears in my eyes, I can vividly remember those tangible moments. In those moments, ripe with the sweetness of God’s touch, I came to understand how living a life of value along the dash contributes to one’s ability to move on when all around is loss. In God’s scheme, loss is designed for a certain time, place, and purpose. Mamaw lived her life according to that design, she lived and loved like she knew where she was going, and she left a legacy for all of us to follow. My life was so full of difficulty even as I lay with her in those last moments. And as I whispered to her that all would be right, she was still thinking about me, and whispered back, “I love you, I am ready, you will be fine, God is going to give you a new start.” As Mamaw stepped across the neck of the enemy into God’s arms, she was still encouraging, loving, and leading the way for others. My life and my future are richer because of her extravagant love for others, which came from the matchless love of God shining in her soul. The strength of force of God’s call on my life was renewed as I watched my grandmother deal Death his final blow. She went out swinging and went upward with grace. Her courage in the face of disaster, her peace amidst the storm, her love throughout years of kingdom battles give me the strength to overcome the challenges life sends my way. Reflection upon her life has stirred me to remember that life is not about fame, money, attention, success, travel, and pleasure. Life is about how you love and impact others for God’s agenda. In the days since her death, God has lifted me and sent me in new directions with renewed passion for His purposes.
As Mamaw lay dying on the bed in my aunt and uncle’s home in Slidell, Louisiana (one of the many homes flooded by the waters of Katrina), the whisper of God came to me in a tangible way. It was as if I could hear the soft whisper of God telling me, “In this loss, Bruce, is the start of a new day.” This is a message that is true for all of us. Whether you have had the privilege to have a Mamaw in your life or not, God’s love reaches out to you in ways much like my grandmother reached out to me. He is faithful to send whispers of His grace if we are listening for His voice. Those whispers often come at unexpected and unassuming moments, but they do come. The God of the universe longs to make Himself known to you amidst all the seasons of your life. I recognize that all too many people in our world are without the kind of loving support I found in my grandmother. God is able, however, to give you strength and a network of loving and supporting people. Some have seen families disintegrate amidst the pain of broken relationships, others have lost close family members to illness, still others have seen those they love move away from to pursue the goals given to us by a mobile society chasing the all-alluring American dream. Whether the network of loving relationships and deep friendships has been there or not up to this point in your life, God stands ready and willing to bring you to a new day. If all appears lost for you, if you have given up hope of being loved or giving love, God can and will provide if you take him up on it. In the restoration of family relationships or through an authentic and open church community, God is able to meet you. If we will take the time to allow God to speak to us, even the worst of disasters are the means by which our God will move us on to greater things. No matter how strong the winds, no matter how deep the waters, no matter how severe the destruction, amidst all the storms of life God can bring newness, a hope, a future.
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