"Then you will understand what is right and just -- every good path. For wisdom will enter your heart, and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul. Discretion will protect you, and understanding will guard you." ~ Proverbs 2: 9-11 I am reminded that I must constantly nurture my faith. It is important to spend time reflecting, writing, praying, and attempting to live a life that reminds me that I am made in the image of God.
Faith is not just believing that Jesus lived long ago, called ordinary people to witness remarkable miracles, died for each of us, and then rose from the grave. Having faith means that we fully accept the truth that Jesus lives within us and fulfills his divine ministry in and through us. When we realize that Christ lives within us, our faith suddenly becomes the acceptance of Jesus' life, death and resurrection. It is Christ living within us that reveals to us our faith. In many ways we are the inner bridge between Jesus and the world around us. Our faith allows for Christ to be present. That's why nurturing our faith is so important. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 Then Jesus told them, "You are going to have the light just a little while longer. Walk while you have the light, before darkness overtakes you. Those who walk in the dark do not know where they going." ~ John 12: 35 A final chrysalis remains as a sign of the season that has ended as we await the season of spring to bring things to life once again. We seem to be in a season of waiting.
Each day I have conversations with hospice patients who seem to be waiting. Yesterday one of my patients shared that she has nothing to do but to "wait on death to arrive." In moments like these I try to invite the person to share stories that involve seasons, and hopefully will lead to a place where the person is able to recognize that there have been seasons of "waiting," throughout their whole life. As a child we "wait for Christmas." We, "wait for graduation," and later, "that first promotion." We, "wait for the birth of a child," and then later, "wait till that family vacation." In the winter we, "wait for the first signs of spring." In old age, we simply are, "waiting to experience our last breath." I am reminded that we are invited to live in the moment. Waiting is learning to trust in the treasure of the moment, which for many, is hidden in the ground on which we stand. Affirming the present can only become possible when we remember the past and expect more from the future. Nothing is as difficult as really accepting one's own life. More often than not, the present is denied, the past becomes a source of wounds, and the future is looked upon as something to avoid, or is looked upon as a reason for despair or apathy. Jesus came into the world to bring us life and to free us from the boundaries of time. Through Jesus, we have encountered God in the present. Through Jesus we have learned that our past does not have to be denied. Our past can be remembered and we can be forgiven. In the present we can be waiting for Jesus to return and to reveal to us what yet is to come. In all our moments, let us stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 Three views of the same flower. Funny how we can look at something from a different place and suddenly it can become something else.
Even the fading flower has beauty. This afternoon I visited with a woman who shared that she is, "Encountering old age, not death. It's all in perspective. I'm not dying. I'm still living." Years ago one of my English teachers reminded me to write as if I am the one who would be reading the words, or my thoughts, for the first time. A note on a paper said, "Allow yourself to be the audience, hearing the story being told for the first time. Imagine." I guess I now am transformed into the one who now sits and listens, and tries to journey with each person that I encounter as if I am the one who is making the journey. John Lennon invited us to, "Imagine." Jesus invites us to, "Love our neighbors as we love ourselves." An inward understanding with outward changing realities. God says, "That's what I imagine, a whole world not only created but also living in my image." Imagine a world where we no longer found things to distance us, but rather brought us closer together? Would there be any poverty? Would there be crimes and wars? "Imagine all the people, living life in peace..." Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. ~ John 1:1-5 Within the first chapter of the gospel of John, we are told, "And the word became flesh and dwelt among us." (John 1:14)
These words, for me, have often brought me hope. God becoming one with us, is a reminder to the great lengths God will take so that God may have a presence with us. Jesus is the living word. So often I remind people that our words are important. Without our words, our actions would be meaningless. Without meaning, our words, and for that matter, our lives, cannot exist. Even in the silence, our presence can be important to others, but it is our words that can offer hope, support, strength, and comfort. Our words can take away shame, guilt, loneliness and fear. Without our words, we cannot express forgiveness, offering healing and wholeness, and reconcile ourselves to one another. Our words can be an expression of our joys, while bringing peace and offering expressions of thankfulness to one another. In many ways, our words are the bearers of love. The same love that God has for us in the word becoming flesh in Jesus. The act of the word becoming flesh has been the greatest symbol of love. Our words, when they become flesh in our lives and those around us, they can overcome obstacles and change the world, while changing us as well. When you consider the words, "I love you," "I am sorry," "I understand," and "I forgive you," they carry more than just the words of a sentence. They are empowering and life-changing. Jesus is God's word for us made into flesh. Through the words of Jesus to us, we are more than just followers of God's word. We too, are made into instruments of the living Christ to others. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 "There is a season for everything: ... a time for giving birth, a time for dying" ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 This morning I was looking at the maple tree in my neighbor's yard as it is beginning to push forth new leaves. Another season is about to end as another begins. The balance between one season to the next reminds me of the balance between our life and death.
Affirming the seasons of our life is always filled with expectations for the future. In many ways I'm always thinking of eternity. Even as the seasons change around me, each day I am still able to hold on to the promises of Jesus. It is the "holding on" that makes it possible for us to embrace our future, as well as, our past. Affirming the present means remembering the past and expecting more to come in the future. Rarely do we take the time to celebrate the present. One of the things that I have discovered through the seasons of life, is that rarely do we accept the life that we presently are living. More often the present is denied, the past becomes a source of discontent, and the future is looked upon as something that we hope for. When Jesus came into the world to speak and to offer life eternal, he came to free us from the boundaries of time. I was sitting with a woman dying of cancer almost a decade ago, and there is not a day that goes by that I don't think of what she shared with me. As she drifted from this world to the next, she opened her eyes and shared, "Todd, I just saw heaven, and I picked out a beautiful bench that you and I are going to sit on and talk about this day." I remember telling her, "While I am looking forward to heaven, I hope that it is a long time from now." She smiled and said, "Guess what I have already learned about heaven? There is no such thing as time in heaven." To which I responded, "Now that would be heaven." Through Jesus we have learned that not only is God with us currently in this time and space, but also in the moments we seek forgiveness and healing for the things of our past, but that we also have a future filled with things that we have yet to encounter. For us, our seasons are filled with our birth, death, and resurrection. For God did not send Jesus into the world to condemn the world, but to bring life eternal. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 "But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you." ~ Psalm 39: 7 This week I sat with a woman who shared that she felt like her journey in hospice has become "stagnant." Laying in bed, waiting on her health to decline and death to overcome her body. I must admit, these are difficult conversations. The initial news that they are going to die, and the acceptance that we are mortal, has become a reality.
Waiting patiently in expectation does not necessarily become easier as we become older. I will often talk about the "new normal," that the person is now experiencing as they await their death. One person told me a few months ago that she was "learning patience," while "learning to live within God's timing." Often my conversation with folks at this point will be about the loss of personal control. They are no longer able to drive, do the laundry, go to the mail box, or even dress themselves. The term "one day at a time," takes on new meaning. There is no longer the expectation of something new is about to happen. I often hear people telling me that they are "bored." The challenge of aging is waiting with an ever-greater patience and an ever-stronger expectation. It is living with an eager hope, even when we feel that our life has become stagnate. Stagnation, or the feeling of not moving forward with our lives, can happen at any moment. The challenge is to remain faithful that God is still working in our lives, even when we experience silence. I am reminded that the Latin verb patior means "to suffer" We get our word patience from this word. Waiting patiently, as some might think, means suffering through the moment. The feeling of being stagnate should actually be seen as active waiting in which we live in the present moment. Waiting patiently means paying attention to what is happening right before us, without passivity, knowing that God is waiting with us. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance. ~ Ecclesiastes 3:4 "The real tears will come later."
Those were the words shared yesterday by the sister of one of my patients who had just died. As she sat next to the bed where her sister was still laying, holding the newest of "great greats," symbolizing that life continues to move forward, I stood and listened as she shared about grief. She commented, "The tears of today aren't the real tears. Those will come later." The woman shared that following her mother's death, it was a few weeks later while sitting in the dentist office that she suddenly was overwhelmed by grief and the tears came. "They all thought I was in pain and tried to hurry me to the dentist chair. I told them no. These are the tears for my mother. And I let them come." Our understanding of grief takes many forms, and I always try to remind people that there really is no "right or wrong" way to grieve. I loved what this woman said about the tears that came later, "You just have to let them happen." As I prayed with them, having spent time with the woman and knowing her beautiful spirit, I commented that I could just imagine her now, kicking up gold dust among the streets of gold which was welcomed with words of affirmation by those in the room. I am reminded that Ecclesiastes reminds us that there is a "time for mourning and a time for dancing." It was in that moment where I realized that mourning and dancing were being done at once. Not separated, but being choreographed into a dance where the mourning and the dancing showed no clear ending or beginning. They were strung together, just as the symbol of life and death that were present with the new baby in the room, and the person who had just died. More and more I realize that grief allows us to create our dance, while our dance creates space for our grief to be known. In the midst of loss, and in the midst of tears, there was also an unknown joy. Dancing and mourning, laughter and grief, gladness and sadness, they all belong together in a story that makes us both cry and laugh. That is truly the beauty of life, and that is what was so beautiful about yesterday's moment with this family. It was visibly mourning and dancing, embracing each other. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us. ~ 1 John 4: 18-19 Last evening several friends, and friends of friends, gathered at our home to talk about death and dying over dinner. As we shared of our "first" death experiences, personally and professionally, I was struck by how death had changed each of us. It is one thing to be present when a family member dies. It's a different sacredness to be present when someone who is a patient, or the stranger off the street, dies.
It amazed me how each of us could remember certain things about our experience, and how that invited a different understanding of death into our lives. The sacred mystery of death, and for that matter, the resurrection, are found at the altar when we share in communion, but also, can be known within our own hearts as we proclaim to be instruments of the living Christ. Whether we realize it or not, life and death are always before us. In our imaginations, our thoughts, our words, our gestures, and our actions. What we realized in our conversations last night is that we are all companions with one another. While our lives, our roles, and even our beliefs may be different, our ability to be companions with one another. Our companionship includes times of suffering, as well as, the joy of loving. We realized that love is stronger than fear, life is stronger than death, and hope is stronger than despair. We have to trust the risk of loving is always worth taking. Jesus remains our companion through it all. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze." ~ Isaiah 43:2 I wish that I could say that we could live our entire lives without knowing pain. When our son and his wife recently lost their child, as my son shared that the doctor, "Could not find a heart beat," my first words to him were, "One thing is for certain. This child only knew love."
Hiding our pain is something we all seem to know something about. Each day we encounter people who have experienced spiritual, emotional, physical and even mental pain. Finding a way to make our pain a source of healing for others, takes time, understanding, and the allowing of our own pain to be worked through. Even in our own sacred texts, the narratives of loss, pain, woundedness and suffering serve as reminders to us that life is simply not easy at times. As living instruments of a God who has known pain, through the wounds of Christ, we are reminded that healing can take place, even when we are experiencing loss. The man hanging on the cross beside a dying Jesus is assured that, "Today you shall be with me in paradise." (Luke 23:43) Yesterday as I spent time with a daughter of a patient of mine who is beginning her transition from this life to the next, she shared of the painful milestones the person had experienced in her life. She became tearful as she spoke of her mother finally being able to, "be at peace," after a lifetime of pain that came from physical disabilities, the infidelity of a spouse, to the loss of a child. Her experiences had become a source of strength, but at the end of life, being able to talk of these moments had become a source of healing as the daughter realized that her mother would finally be healed of these experiences and be made whole in her dying. It is in pain that we discover the strength we possess as both one who has experienced pain and one who has become a source of healing to others. It is almost as if our pain makes us one with each other. In our pain and woundedness, we can be brought to a place where we are able to share our humanity with one another, and even find joy in the midst of our own experiences. There was some comfort for the daughter who realized that her mother would never again experience pain, and for me to able to tell her it was, "Okay," to express these words also empowered her to move forward, even as her mother dying. Even in our pain we can experience the quiet joy of being there for someone else, while reminding us that we are connected in more ways than we can name. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 I thank my God every time I remember you. ~ Philippians 1:3 Yesterday while out visiting several hospice patients, I stopped to visit the wife of one of my patients who died just before Christmas. As I knocked on the kitchen door coming in from the garage (Those of us who grew up in the country understand coming in the side door of the house. Only strangers knock or ring the front door bell.) I heard her familiar voice call from the other room to enter. When I said her name, she came from the other room, arms open, and hugged me. "I've missed you!"
We sat in the kitchen, surrounded by cabinets that her husband had made by hand in his workshop, and we drank coffee as the sun filled the space. When I asked how she was doing, she shared that she was having "Good days and bad." She pointed to an overturned coffee cup next to the coffee maker. "That's his cup. I haven't had the heart to touch it," and she began to cry. For nearly fifty years he would begin the day by taking his coffee cup, turning it right side up, and drinking from it throughout the morning as he worked on a number of things on the farm. When he was done with his coffee, he would then rinse out his cup, dry it off, and then place it back in it's original space, upside down. "That's how I would know that he was done with coffee for the day and I wouldn't make any more. It was our system," she continued. The coffee cup still sat in the same place since the last time that he had used it. "I suppose I'm waiting to walk in the room and find it turned upright again. I just can't seem to find a way to do anything with it right now." We talked about grief, and how grief shows up in many ways. She even reminded me that, "Time doesn't heal all wounds. It just gives us space." Losing someone we have loved deeply can paralyze us. People, like this couple who have been together for over fifty years, become a part of one another. I remember how paralyzed my great grandfather became after over seventy five years of marriage, and the death of my great grandmother. He literally died of a broken heart just a few months later. When someone close to us dies, our thinking, feeling and actions change. When someone we love dies, a part of us often dies as well. Like this woman I spent time with yesterday, she is about to enter the year of "Firsts," as she shared. The first Christmas, New Years, birthday, anniversary, and a number of other holidays that will now be the first without her husband. I always remind folks that grief is a lifelong journey. Sometimes it takes that first whole year of "Firsts" before our hearts can fully say good-bye, and the initial pain of grief begins to recede. For many of us, we soon discover that these losses serve as a spiritual guide for us as well. It's not that they are no longer with us. They are now part of eternity that directs and draws us closer to God. As I prepared to leave yesterday, I was reminded of the words, "Blessed are those who mourn." Because God knows our hearts, God also knows our pain. When we mourn, God mourns with us. By allowing for our mourning, God then allows us also to know God's consolation. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 "Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders." ~ Deuteronomy 33:12 Some Mondays just seem to be harder than others. My day began early this morning with an email from our on-call group sharing that the daughter of one my patients needs me to stop by first thing because she feels that "today will be her father's last day."
Preparing for anyone's "last day," is never something we can be completely ready for. There always seems to be final words, or final gestures that need to be said or done. The last visit, and the last time the person will open their eyes. While we never know the exact time of our death, we do know one thing is certain. Life is simply unpredictable, and that all of us realize that one day we shall die. While we may struggle to hold tight to the things of this world, our faith in God is one thing we can know through all situations. Paul shares, "neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nothing in existence and nothing still to come, nor any power, nor the heights nor the depths, nor any created thing whatever, will be able to come between us and the love of God known to us in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38-39) Being able to be present for one another, while acknowledging that we all must breathe our last breath, the need to know that Christ died and was risen from the dead invokes an additional promise. The promise of life eternal. As I prepare to leave my home this morning, I lift one more prayer that my words will be sufficient to help her to know God's presence as she watches her father die. May our words always be welcoming words of Christ for one another. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 "When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became an [adult], I put childish ways behind me." ~ I Corinthians 13:11 One of the memories that I often ask people to share are holidays. As we grow older, we often forget many things, but generally when I ask about a specific holiday the person remembers and there is often a response. Especially Thanksgiving or Christmas memories, and they are often associated with a meal.
When I graduated from high school, my great grandmother gave me a set of China that she had received as a gift when she and my great grandfather were married. The set was not complete, as pieces had either been lost or broken over the years, but what she did have, meant so much to me. I remembered several holidays at her home when the "good China" was brought out and used. Usually at a holidays such as Thanksgiving or Christmas. Any time that I have a chance, I use these dishes. They remind me of my great grandmother, and the love and hospitality that existed in her home. They also remind me of times when people who were different from one another, found a place to resolve any differences and simply coexist peacefully and enjoy the time together. Some time after I received them as a gift, I was at an antique mall in Southern Indiana and found almost a complete set of the same pattern. It was a treasure find! I bought the pieces and now when family and friends come over, I use the set in hopes that these precious pieces from my childhood can somehow become instruments of peace as they were at my grandmother's and become a memory for others. These special moments around the table stand out as a reminder that we can have quality lives with one another. I have to wonder what people today will share as memories in the future? Fast-food, "Happy Meals," and instant dinners have made common meals less and less central. We joke at our home that we only use our dining table when friends come over. Part of my new year's resolution has been to make our table more of a central place. I actually sit, eat my breakfast, and occasionally pull out one of my great grandmother's China cups and drink my coffee, just so that I might start my day with a reminder that I am to be a vessel, like this cup, of peace and hospitality to others. One thing that I have realized, is that perhaps we will have less painful or remorseful memories to share if we fill our lives with more joyful memories? Can we make our tables, or as vessels of Christ, make ourselves, a place of hospitality, inviting others to kindness, joy, peace, gentleness and offer the opportunities to create beautiful memories? Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 They said to each other, “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?” ~ Luke 24:32 So many of the hospice patients I meet are in their home. Often surrounded by their own belongings and family, for them, it is a place of comfort. When I enter, I realize that I am being invited into a sacred, safe space for the person. We all have the ability to become safe places for others.
There is something about being able to be transparent and present with others in a way that it allows for vulnerability and safety. We can do this in many ways. When we free our lives of judgement and condemnation when we are with others, we suddenly then can become a place where others can openly share their lives. When we live our lives as God has designed, loving one another, we cannot help but invite others to do the same. One of the greatest gifts that we can give one another is ourselves. Without some hidden agenda or underlying need, where we are completely present, and able to be a source of peace and reconciliation, we then create a place where sacred conversations can happen. For many, I think that it becomes a place of liberation where feelings and experiences can be shared, without fear of "What will he think of me once he knows this about me?" I try to remind myself that Jesus did not come into the world to condemn the world, but to save it. Providing a simple, nonjudgmental presence, often without a plan, can be exactly what others need to know that we can be part of the safe place with them. What a wonderful place to be with, and for, one another! Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. ~ Isaiah 41:10 "Do not be afraid."
This morning I am sitting in a meeting with several folks who are working with hospice patients. As we share our experiences with one another, there seems to be a number of patients that we are working with that have expressed that they are afraid. One of the greatest gifts any of us can offer to one another are the words, "Do not be afraid." Sometimes those that we meet are ready to go to God, but those around the person have a hard time letting them go. But there eventually comes a time that those who are caring for the person need to give those they love the permission to once again return to God. So often we forget that earth is not our home. The greatest gift that we can offer to one another is our presence and the words to not be afraid. We can be the reminders to those who are dying that they are loved. Sharing the words, "I love you," and "God loves you," can bring comfort. Also inviting folks to "go peacefully and gently," are words that help to describe "a way," that leads not into fear, but into eternity. Saying these words from our heart can be a true gift to those we are with as they are dying, but additionally, they can be words expressed to those we meet. "Go in peace," and "May the peace of the Lord be with you," are offerings that may be used daily. This can be the greatest daily gift of love that we can give to one another. As we were finishing our conversation, I reminded our group of the words that Jesus shared on the cross in his final moments, "Into Your hands I commit my spirit." These are the words that we hope that we are able to bring those we care for to share as they let go. It is with these words we prayerfully bring them from our heart to those we care for. It is with these words that those we care for can make the same journey as Jesus did. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 All of us who are spiritually mature should have this same attitude. But if some of you have a different attitude, God will make this clear to you. ~ Philippians 3:15 Yesterday I spent time with a man who shared that he felt like he was "losing his soul." This was the first time I had ever encountered someone saying this. When I asked him to tell me more about the feeling, he shared, "I just feel like I can't find myself any longer. I am losing touch with who I am."
He was definitely at a place where he felt lost, but it had more to do with the person that he was before his illness, rather than what God was leading him to be. I have heard more than once that "Dying is easy. Living is hard." Remaining in touch with who we are, even as we journey through the valley of the shadow of death, is a struggle that I encounter with folks from all walks of life. Last summer I spent time with a father of two children that was dying. He had done everything that he could to ensure that when he died his family would be cared for. He spent time replacing a back door that had some rust on it, changed out three toilets in the house because he felt that in the next five years they may need work, he bought birthday and Christmas gifts, as well as, high school graduation. He even took his fourteen year old daughter to a wedding venue and recorded the two of them dancing so that on the day of her wedding, there would be a video of the first "Father / Daughter dance." He had tried to think of "everything." While he planned for so many things, what we didn't think about was, "What would happen if he lost touch with who he was?" In the final days of his life, the cancer effected his brain and we literally "lost" him. It was both terrifying and sad at the same time, but as he lived out his final hours, his soul managed to make itself known as he quietly lived out his final moments. Losing our soul takes many forms, but for those of us who are healthy and living each day, we find that we lose our soul when we become distracted by and preoccupied with all that is happening around us. It is in these moments that we are taken away from what God wants us to focus upon. We are reminded to remain calm. Not to be anxious. And to focus on our faith. As we are reminded that we are to possess faith, hope and love, the love that God has for our soul always remains. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 |
AuthorRev. G. Todd Williams is the author of the book, "Remember Me When..." and is a former hospice chaplain and pastor. Archives
February 2024
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