15. February 2009 by BruceSmith.

Valentines Day 2009 was a bit different than most for me.  Essentially, it was a day of frustration, loss, and curious happenings.  All the frustration, loss, and curious goings-on, however, were in actuality a healthy reminder of the nature of this thing we call life, and ultimately a great blessing.  I will explain. Typically, kids are not competing in school activities on the Love Day.  The day is usually filled with frivolity, candy, cards, and great fun.  This V-Day, different from others, brought the adrenaline rush of competition, and the high stress and pressure of performing in front of a panel, …for my nine year old (though I wonder if she were really more stressed and under pressure than I, as its much harder to watch your kids compete than to do it yourself).   After weeks of preparation and winning a spot into the tournament, my girl was charged up and ready for battle.  In years previous, though she has performed well, she has not taken home the gold.  This year, I was sure, and she was hoping, would be different.  We were ready for combat, ready to smash those little, sneezing, wheezing, babbling, and otherwise feeble third and fourth grade opponents! Sadly, as the competition rolled on, came and went, finished (amidst what in my view was a judging scandal the likes of which we have not seen since the Russian gymnastic judges bought and sold the gold away from us!! I am kidding here, just in case you can’t hear that in my voice …I think, sort of, maybe…), my little one, my future leader of the free world, did not win.  OUTRAGEOUS!  While I think I was more heart-broken for her than she was, I at least kept it together a bit better than she, and did not burst into depressive anger amidst a flood of pitiful tears and shouts of injustice, calling for the heads of those clearly against us (as my nine year old did).  It was a downer to a day that should have been filled with the pride of accomplishment and joy of doing one’s best.  Yet, as my nine-year old tiger has suggested repeatedly since the verdict, it turned into a day of defeat and tragic misery, and she will NEVER, EVER, EVER, FOR ANY REASON, compete again.  Not to worry, she said that last year.  For the record, I could not have been more proud of her.  She was splendid. O.k., moving on.  For me, what was so punctuated by the defeat was the depth of love I have for my child.   I could not bare to see her so defeated and sad.  There was absolutely nothing I could do to console her.  I had given her gifts ahead of time but they were of no benefit. Kisses galore, no help, hugs a bear would envy, nothing.  She was just awash in third grader grief and felt like a failure, despite my knowing beyond any doubt, that she is the most fantastic third grader on planet earth.  Nothing I did or could do would help her understand that.  When I realized this, I just broke inside for her.  Pain sucks, I thought, “Just make it stop!”, I asked.  Or did I demand it?  I wish I could say that this little episode of misery was the end of the pain for the day.  It was not.  Just as we finished up with the competition we headed out for a funeral.  I told you this Love Day was a bit different.  Burying the dead on Valentine’s Day?  Yes.  And in this case, the deceased was an incredibly beautiful, joyous, wonderful two year old.  Little Sonna had died completely unexpectedly as a result of “natural causes”, and just missed his second birthday.  Tragic in every respect.   As we made our way to the funeral (a memorial service really), and continuing to wrestle with my child’s emotional distress, I began to think about what it would be like to lose one of my kids in such a horrifying way.  Before I even got to the service I was beginning to come undone.  As we walked in the doors of the church and were waiting in line to sign the guest book I looked to my right and saw, in the auditorium on the big screen, this amazingly sweet and compelling picture of little Sonna.  I did not make it to my seat before the first tears began.   Reflecting on the pain, questions, and unfathomable hole within the hearts of each family member was just too much.   As the service went on various people who knew little Sonna and the family spoke of the joy brought to so many by this little man and his sweet smile and inquisitive nature.  Photo after photo rolled, photos of Sonna, and photos of the family enjoying him.  I could not help but think how the family will view those photos from this day forward.  Sonna will always be missed by his sister and brothers and parents and so many others.  They will always wonder, of course, what he would have been, who he would have become… After about 45 minutes, and as the service was winding down, a turn in me took place.  Still wiping away tears, I began to reflect on just how much joy children bring into our lives and how grateful we ought to be to God for the moments we do have.  While the grief will remain for Sonna’s family, my prayer is that they will regularly remember those unexpected smiles, the bright curious glances, the wonder and love expressed in so many ways, and all the good that was found in the two years they had with the little guy.  My prayer, also, is that they will ponder the beauty hidden in the reality that Sonna lived a life free from all the ugliness and misery of this world.  His short life was filled with people looking deeply and lovingly into his eyes, providing for his every need, and enveloping him their arms.  Now, Sonna has the sheer joy of moving from this life (one in which he experienced so much good) on to a life of such joy we cannot begin to imagine.  He has gone from goodness to perfection and heavenly ecstasy.  We should all be so fortunate, really.  In situations such as these we can be grateful that our loved ones were spared the difficulty of this life.  Sonna, unlike others of us, retained his young innocence and purity until he reached the end of this life and walked into life everlasting.  Recognizing that he, like each of us, was born with sin in his heart, he had the strangely remarkable privilege of running into the arms of God before he could even run too well.   Reflecting on Sonna’s life, death, and new life above, I have thought much about how I might respond if one of my kid’s were taken in their youth.  No doubt the pain would be unimaginable.  Yet I would hope and pray that I could find the peace and gratefulness that Sonna’s parents are already finding in reflecting on the goodness of God to offer any time with such a wondrous creature.  Sonna’s passing reminds me that I ought to fully take in each and every moment I have with my kids and others I love.  Moreover, it is a reminder to me of the fleeting nature of this life, and it is a call to remember that we can be gone at any moment.  To miss the splendor of this life is unthinkable when we consider how quickly it can all be gone.  We ought to be fully alive amidst every breath we take.  We ought also remind ourselves that pain serves to heighten the good moments.  In pain, we often have a clearer view of just how good the good is.  Pain tends to bring joy into greater perspective.  Death actually brings clarity to life.  As the day was finally winding down, this Valentine’s Day 2009, after my child’s emotional drama, a funeral for a two-year old, and the chance to briefly care for someone who, though ill with the flu, stopped to wish me a Happy V-Day, I realized that at the end of the day, Love Day or any other, what truly remains is the love.  I love my kid, not because she did or did not win a gold medal, but because I love her, she is mine, each of mine is mine, and each is marvelous in so many ways.  Likewise, amidst the pain of loss, Sonna’s family, even as they were saying goodbye amidst a flood of tears, were testifying to the love they had for their son.  The pain was so great because the love was so immense.  And no one would ever dare give up the ability for such love in order to hide from the pain.  That would be a sacrifice far too great and a bankrupt exchange.  And, in the simple act of caring for another, in expectation of nothing in return, after a day of emotional and spiritual exhaustion, I sense again, the wonderful reality of the simple truth revealed in scripture, “God is love”.  As we live, move, and experience the journey of life through the eyes of love, its a far sweeter ride.  Love makes all the difference.  In death, life, relationships, and all we encounter…love, real love, Godly love, wins.   I end this blog quoting John Donne’s sonnet on Death.  In this amazing work, penned by one of the 17th Century’s great writers, Death is directly and powerfully reminded of its ultimate demise.  Death does not win the day, as Donne reminds us.  Death has not defeated little Sonna.  Nor will it defeat any of us who have found ourselves in God.  For God is love, and those found in this Love, have the assurance of spending eternity enveloped within the arms of this Love.  Donne writes, and I dedicate these words to Sonna and his family:

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so, For, those, whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow,Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.  From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee, Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee doe goe, Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie. Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell, And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well, And better then thy stroake; why swell’st thou then; One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally, And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

Death loses.  Love wins.  Death shall die.  Love springs eternal.  Such a love is defined by, and only found in Christ.

Bruce Smith

optimuslife.org 

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4. February 2009 by BruceSmith.

I rarely, no very seldom, no actually never (that I can remember) forward those emails we all get that have the touchy-feely moralistic bent to them or the superstitious “Forward this and you will be…” vibe.  Today is an exception, sort of.   I received this little story from a friend and was touched by it in light of its deep and too often missed truth.  It serves as a great reminder to us all of the power of true and lasting love.  The kind of love we so often aspire to is the less than genuine, sex driven, looks driven, emotion driven, and me driven substitute we see on television and the silver screen.  Its the kind of “love”, romantic “love” that singers and songwriters wax on about as they jump from one failed love affair to another.  If that kind of love is so life-altering, we might pause and ask, then why are so many of those folks who promote it so miserable and relationally broken?  There must be something missing.The idea of love and romantic aspiration is one I have thought much about and written about to some degree (if you have been reading my blogs the last year you know this!).  The thoughts and need to write on this theme are fanned into flame this time of year as the upcoming Cupid inspired holiday approaches, of course.  As a single guy, content yet certainly not opposed to a love affair, I am as vulnerable as the next sap to the pull of the upcoming Love Day.  Yet, my prayer, by God’s grace, is not that I might find that irresistible hottie (who should also have a great intellect, great personality, great style, great spiritual focus, great relational skills…oops, I digress), but rather, that in His time, place and plan, I can offer myself in the kind of deep, abiding, and selfless love He longs to give me for a woman, and that He longs to give all of us for others.  That, I will be honest, is not an easy prayer for a divorced single guy who has felt the pain of broken relationships.  Its easier just to make it about me.And so, just as I have been pondering this theme, along came this little story, through the mass of other emails, and for some reason I opened it.  Its a story of selfless love and abiding otherness that few love affairs and few marriages experience.  Its the kind of love we should all long for.  Its bigger than circumstance, deeper than romance (though I fully embrace the need for romance we all share), purer than hope for a better day, and more sustaining than pleasure.  May God give it to each of us, may we pray for it whether we are single, divorced, married, happily married, barely married, or whatever the case may be.  I think this is a little taste of what God has in store for all those lovers that approach Him with an honest and hungry heart, a selfless heart.So, without further delay, here is the story.  And I promise, if you forward this blog (the best blog on planet earth!) to … well, o.k. I can’t promise you anything.  It is however, worth your time and consideration.  After reading it, consider reading I Corinthians 13 (The true love manual).  Read on, and learn to dance your way through the Valentine’s holiday, into your lover’s heart, and throughout the journey of life.  Love makes all the difference. 

How To Dance In The Rain… (and love it)

It was a busy morning, about 8:30, when an elderly gentleman in his 
80’s,arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb.

He said he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00 am.

I took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would be able to see him.

I saw him looking at his watch, and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound.

On exam, it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound. Whiletaking care of his wound, I asked him if he had another doctor’s appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry.

The gentleman told me no, that he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife.

I inquired as to her health; he told me that she had been there for a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer’s Disease.

As we talked, I asked if she would be upset if he was a bit late.

He replied that she no longer knew who he was, that she had not recognized him in five years now.

I was surprised, and asked him, ‘And you still go every morning, even though she doesn’t know who you are’?

He smiled as he patted my hand and said, ‘She doesn’t know me, but I still know who she is’.

I had to hold back tears as he left; I had goose bumps on my arm, and thought, ‘That is the kind of love I want in my life’.

True love is neither physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be.

With all the jokes and fun that are in e-mails, sometimes there is one that comes along that has an important message.

This one I thought I could share with you.

The happiest people don’t necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the best of everything they have.

I hope you share this with someone yo u care about. I just did.

‘Life isn’t about how to survive the storm, But how to dance in the rain.’

And it’s wonderful!

Bruce Smith

optimuslife.org 

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