Archive for the Category »Quiet moments «

The Last Smile

photo by Michelle Dennis

Have you ever had to cope with the death of someone you love—a parent, child, sibling, friend, or pet? I have a friend whose mother is dying. It’s hard. It hurts. And it’s holy.

I’ve been there. I sat days and nights in the hospital with my mom, and I followed the ambulance as it brought her home for the last time. Christmas was a week away and gifts and decorations were still waiting for my attention, but those final few days with mom and our family were precious.

I know how the story will end for my friend. It won’t be easy. Endings always require grieving. She’ll look back and treasure the years she had with her mom, and she’ll look forward to the joy of reunion that is scheduled in the not too distant future. Pain, sorrow, regret, life, love, and laughter will all mix together to help my friend process the experience and evaluate her journey.

“True Measure,” by Helen Lowrie Marshall, stands as one of my favorite poems during times of grief and reflection. It quiets my soul.

How long we live is not for us to say;

We may have years ahead—or but a day.

The length of life is not of our control,

But length is not the measure of the soul—

Not length, but width and depth define the span

By which the world takes measure of a man.

It matters not how long before we sleep,

But only how wide is our life—how deep.

Have you ever grieved the death of someone you love? If so, what did you find that helped to quiet your soul?

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

Genesee Home in the fall

The view from an upstairs bedroom at Genesee Home.

Several times over the last few years, Hubby and I have escaped to Genesee Home. It’s a lovely getaway for folks in ministry where they treat you like royalty and provide the rest that is so needed for those of us in the people caring business. The rooms are beautiful and the hosts, Charley and Bev Blom, have a special gift of hospitality that allows you to feel pampered during your week away with Jesus.

One of my favorite times of the day at Genesee Home is dinner. All meals are awesome. I mean, really, really awesome. But dinner is exceptional. Not only does Charley keep the small group of guests talking and laughing, but Bev, your hostess, and Lorraine, your awesome Genesee Home cook, personally serve you a three course meal. You are not allowed to help or do dishes. The food lures you into the kitchen long before dinner is served–who can pass up the smell of good cooking and the sound of good conversation. Luckily, the kitchen is large and there is lots of room to stand around visiting and begging Lorraine for a sneak bite before dinner.

Last time I was there I bought the Genesee Home cookbook so I could serve such lovely meals at home. Of course I don’t have Bev and Lorraine to serve the yummy meals, but Hubby keeps us talking and laughing at our home dinner table.

Here’s one of my favorite side dishes for a cozy Autumn dinner from the Genesee Home cookbook.

Garlic Roasted Asparagus 

2 bunches thick asparagus, trimmed

1/4 cup olive oil

4 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1 tsp. sea salt

pepper

lemon wedges for garnish

Preheat your oven to 450 F. Arrange the asparagus on a rimmed baking sheet in a single layer and sprinkle the oil, garlic, salt and pepper over the asparagus. Roll them to coat. Roast the asparagus in the oven until crisp-tender, about 8 to 10 minutes. Serve warm with the lemon wedges. Makes 4 servings.

Where is your favorite place to get away and rest? What’s your favorite Autumn side dish?

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

ivy on a garden doorOne of my favorite childhood poets is Helen Lowrie Marshall whose poem, “A Thankful Heart for Little Things,” remains one of my treasures. Most of her books are out of print, so I cherish the two that I own.

Little Things

Dear God, please give to me

A thankful heart for little things—

For sunshine on my kitchen floor,

For news the postman brings;

For memories in the making,

Things the children do and say,

That I will smile about, perhaps,

Some future, lonelier day.

 

Grant me appreciation

Of the small joys that are mine—

The children’s birthday parties,

My honeysuckle vine;

The clean, fresh smell

Of clothes just washed;

The ivy on my wall,

The children’s thrilled delight

To wake and find the first snowfall.

For robins in the springtime,

And autumn’s crispy weather—

For leaves that crunch,

Friends in for lunch

And laughter shared together.

 

Give me enthusiasm

To greet each brand new day

With an honest joy in living

As I go my simple way;

I do not ask contentment

That would ambition stay—

But let me love the little things

I find along the way.

~Helen Lowrie Marshall

I’m thankful for the things my grandchildren do and say–even the negative things. I recently found it enlightening to listen to three-year-old Paisley calmly explain why she did not push another little girl off the playground ladder. “It was my sister Karalee who pushed the little girl.”

Her mother, Kati, looked at me and rolled her eyes. I marveled at the cute, little deceiver–she really does have a sin nature hiding behind those big blue eyes. And someday I will remind her of this conversation!

What little things in your life are you thankful for?

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

Desert area of the Desert FathersIf you want to enjoy your summer and put a little more holy in your daily, read some of the sayings of the Desert Fathers. These men traded populated areas for the solitude of the wilderness during the early years of Christianity. They left us their wisdom of the desert. This is one of my favorites:

Once Abbot Anthony was conversing with some brethren, and a hunter who was after game in the wilderness came upon them. He saw Abbot Anthony and the brothers enjoying themselves, and disapproved. Abbot Anthony said: “Put an arrow in your bow and shoot it.”

This he did.

“Now shoot another,” said the Elder. “And another, and another.”

Then the hunter said: “If I bend my bow all the time it will break.”

Abbot Anthony replied: “So it is also in the work of God. If we push ourselves beyond measure, the brethren will soon collapse. It is right therefore, from time to time, to relax.”

I’m taking that advice to heart and heading to Finland next Sunday for the wedding of our middle son, Jonathan. I plan to rest, laugh, explore Helsinki, and stay in a summer cottage in the countryside. And yes, I have scheduled posts for while I am gone, but if I don’t respond to your comments, you’ll know why—I’m taking a break.

What are you doing to enjoy your summer? How are you taking a break to relax? What part of that break are you looking forward to the most? I’d love to hear about it.

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

The Stress of a Writing DeadlineDo you ever feel that life is moving too fast? I do. I know I need to do some things to reduce stress. And I know myself well enough that when I get to this place of busyness, I must cut back, sit back, and listen to the Spirit.

I’ve been working on a new Eternal Foundations website for my books. I’ve also been updating the books into ebooks and new paperback editions—much work and a big learning curve. All of this writing plays out alongside of being a wife, mom, grandma, pastor lady, and chief cook around the Gaddis home.

Later this month we have a son getting married in Finland and another having his first baby here in California. I’ll be rushing home from the wedding in order to walk into the hospital in time for little Sawyer’s grand entrance.

I’ve maintained my daily routine of study, prayer, and musing with the Lord over my morning cup of coffee, but I find myself in a season where I need more time to listen. I need time to catch the still, small voice of the Spirit Holy in unexpected moments and in unexpected ways.

In order to protect my sanity, preserve my life from a mental breakdown, and walk more closely with the Spirit, I’ve decided to only post on this blog on Mondays and Thursdays. So this will be my last Friday post for a while.

*sigh* Thanks—I knew you’d understand.

Now that I’ve spilled my guts, what’s your stress story? How do you find a quiet space in your life to listen to the Spirit Holy when the noise of life seems too loud? Please leave your thoughts in the comment section below—I’d love to hear from you.

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

“What are the noises that tell you to slow down?” asks Richard Swenson in his book, Margin: Restoring Emotional, Physical, Financial, and Time Reserves to Overloaded Lives.

My life is often crammed passed the margins that define its space. Usually when that happens I leak all over the people around me—messy stuff, crudely defined, and not appreciated. So I’m learning to tune my ear to the noises around me that call me to slow down, take a breath, enjoy the moment, and live.

Here are the 10 noises that tell me to slow down:

  1. Children giggling unexpectedly
  2. The front door closing after a long day of work
  3. Bath water sloshing bubbles under my feet
  4. Birds singing a morning song as I sip coffee
  5. My grandson explaining his latest adventure in Korbin-English
  6. A baby cooing
  7. The rhythmic ticking of the living room clock
  8. Hummingbird wings
  9. Garden gnomes laughing behind my back
  10. Pandora playing on the back deck with Husband’s voice adding words most people will never hear

“Show me, O LORD, my life’s end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting is my life. You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Each man’s life is but a breath” (Psalm 39:4, 5 NIV).

Now it’s your turn. How’s your breathing these days? What are the noises that tell you to slow down?

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

 

“Christmas is a time when you get homesick,” says Carol Nelson, “even when you’re home.” I had that homesick feeling off and on all during this holiday season. I miss my folks who are no longer here, my kids adventuring in far off places, and I miss something that I haven’t yet experienced—Heaven—my home.

Why is that so? How can I miss something I’ve never known? My spirit seems to cry out for a familiar place, a time, a Person I’ve not yet held. I’ve sat and stared out the window musing over what is not yet mine; thinking of people waiting for me there. Yearning for a sight, a smell, a sound that is so new and, yet, so old.

“Yet”—a word in tension between what is coming and what is now.

My friends tell me that I talk more about Heaven than anyone else they know. Do I think I’m going to die soon? No. Am I more heavenly minded than earthly good? No. Am I getting old? Yes, but not that old.

Yet (there is that word again), Heaven is very real to me. For much of Christina history, Heaven was very real to every follower of Christ. It was often a topic of conversation and regarded as one of the major doctrines of the church. People knew Heaven was as real as the next town down the road. Each choice in life reflected a person’s real citizenship, and folks took their heavenly citizenship seriously.

You don’t find Heaven talked about much any more except at funerals. Technology has shrunk our world, but distanced Heaven. The Undiscovered Country doesn’t appeal to people as it once did. Most folks who experience homesickness when they are home don’t connect the feeling with the reality of a place they’ve never seen or care to know much about.

However, if you are like most historical Christians, you probably want to know all you can about the home awaiting you. Heaven’s guide book, the Bible, lists many interesting facts and helpful information about that home. See my posts What Everybody Ought to Know About Heaven and What Do People Do in Heaven? for starters. But be prepared—the more you know, the more homesick you get.

So I’m wondering, did you get homesick this Christmas even when you were home? I’m sure that I’m not the only person out there who experiences this. Let’s talk about Heaven as others have throughout the centuries.

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

Towards the end of our family gathering last week I noticed little Karalee sound asleep on her mother’s lap. Moments before she had been running around with her cousins engaged in being a princess. Karalee’s life was coming into balance, whether she wanted it to or not.

For many families the busy Christmas season seems to move at a pace where catching one’s breath happens driving from activity to activity. I can easily find my day planner crowded with important things that need doing and little space between the doings.

Yet the beginning of Advent always calls me back to balance—moments of solitude where God can put in me what he will later pull out of me during my day planner hours. Advent speaks of the coming of the One who is my Source, so wisdom leads me into his presence to rest before I go back to being a princess.

Henri Nouwen understood this balance, “In solitude we can listen to the voice of the One who spoke to us before we could speak a word, who healed us before we could make any gesture to help, who set us free long before we could free others, and who loved us long before we could love anyone.”

Give yourself the gift of solitude this season:

  • Steal a few extra moments in bed each morning so you can put your day into the hands of the One who created it.
  • Schedule solitude times for your children—an hour of quiet reading on their beds or rest time listening to music. Then use that time for your own hour of silently sitting with Jesus.
  • Linger over your coffee and Bible a little longer.
  • Take a day just to be by yourself with the Lord. Escape to the beach, a quiet cafe, or walk in the park.
  • Read through the book of Luke, as Teri Lynne Underwood suggests, giving herself a daily dose of stillness.

It doesn’t take much to bring your life back into balance.

What do you do to balance your life between solitude and activity? How has keeping it balanced colored your days and your relationship with God and others? Share your tips below as we would love to learn from you.

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

The other day as I nestled my bum in the corner of our comfy couch, my granddaughter, Paisley, approached me with a book. Speaking in her authoritative little two-year-old voice she demanded, “Is that your grandma  seat?”

Not sure why I was being interrogated, I replied, “Yes, this is my grandma seat.” Paisley promptly approved the arrangement and handed me her book as she climbed up to my lap.

Memories of my aging dad watching TV as he sat in his old, white armchair flashed through my mind. I realized that to be a grandma I had to have an official seat, and my usual place on the couch qualified. I had passed the grandma test.

Structure and routine help a child feel safe and, as a child of God, I am no different. Hebrews 4:16 tells me that I am to approach God’s throne with confidence. His throne location and my willingness to come to him on a regular basis provide the structure and routine my soul craves. It is in the Father’s lap that I find the grace needed to live the life he has given me.

God has an official seat where he regularly invites you to climb up onto his lap. Perhaps your memories of your parents or grandparents make this an easy adventure—perhaps not.

  • Whose lap do you remember climbing up on, and how has that influenced your willingness to approach the throne of grace with confidence?
  • If you have no such memory,  how has that affected your willingness to approach God’s throne?
  • What legacy are you leaving in the memories of your children and grandchildren that might affect their willingness to climb up on God’s lap?

Hard questions, but I would love to hear your answers.

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

Avalon having Thinkin' Time

Thinkin’ time is a lost art. Our culture is so busy that solitude and silence often equal boredom. Folks just don’t know what to do with themselves unless they are working, talking, or being entertained.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said, “Let him who cannot be alone beware of community.”

My ability to be a contributing force in my family and faith community depends on times of quiet introspection and processing my life before the Lord. Who I am becoming is really hammered out in the stillness, not in the noise.

I am a person who needs huge doses of silence and reflection. Without it, I become a crabby woman–successful on my job as far as getting tasks accomplished, but a failure at doing things in a life giving manner.

My altar consists of a cup of coffee, my couch, the early morning sunrise, and a huge picture window. It is there that I do my thinking before the Lord; where we hash over the attitudes that need adjusting and the actions that need repentance.

Granddaughter Avalon uses the underside of her tree fort. Someday the tree will be too difficult to climb and the bark too rough to lean against. But I hope her heart has learned the value of building an altar where she can think in solitude and silence.

Where do you go for thinkin’ time?

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

(This post is a reprint of my 7/23/09 Sabbath and Sabbatical post, “Thinkin’ Time.”)

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