Passing the Love Along

To start off our season of giving, I was inspired to take home a tag from the giving tree that was set up at our gym. I spun the tree round and round, and a bright orange tag caught my eye. It isn’t so much the blazing orange that grabbed my attention, but what the child had requested.

Construction paper and a fishing pole were the items printed in black and white under the capital M, age 10. I smiled when I saw those two words. How perfect for Shane and I, construction paper up the art alley, and a fishing pole. I sent Shane on the mission of finding the fishing pole, which he did, and I collected the construction paper and a wooden fish that came with paints.

I couldn’t help but in my heart to sort of dedicate this gift as a memorial to Scott in a way. Shane and him love fishing, and to pass on that love for the outdoors, well, it just seemed like a perfect fit this year to honor his late friend. I dropped the gift off, unwrapped like requested, but built a narrative in my mind of what that little ten year old would think on Christmas morning getting to unwrap something he asked for.

The same day and place I dropped off the giving tree gift, I ran into a pop-up art show. It was a delightful surprise, and though the pieces weren’t all necessarily seasonal pieces, it just added to my afternoon of Christmas cheer. After having been involved in the local art scene back in my hometown, this was a sweet discovery for me and hopefully a future outlet I can participate in.

All of this coincided with the beautiful, thoughtful Christmas bouquet my dear Shane had gotten me the day before. It was a fan of red, greens and white bursting out of a seasonal coffee mug with a sweet handwritten note on it. Feeling so thankful to have such a sweet man in my life inspired me to again pass the love along. So before I had headed out to deliver the fishing pole and happen upon the art show, I secretly sent a bouquet of flowers to be delivered to my mom who had just gone through surgery on her hand.

Needless to say, it was easy for me to get excited when I got the text from her that she had received her Christmas bouquet. All in all I had a Friday bursting with love, and it was easy to share as I ran my errands, smiling at strangers, helping someone find a spirograph, delivering two secret gifts, one to the giving tree child and the other to my mom, and enjoying other folk’s art.

So now I pass the love along to you by leaving you with this verses from 1 Corinathians 13 to help inspire you in passing on the love this holiday season.

1 Corinthians 13:1-3 I may be able to speak the languages of men and even of angels, but if I do not have love, it will sound like noisy brass. ² If I have the gift of speaking God’s Word and if I understand all secrets, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I know all things and if I have the gift of faith so I can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. ³ If I give everything I have to feed poor people and if I give my body to be burned, but do not have love, it will not help me.

 

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Look at the Birds of the Air

There are just things I could not live with out. Bird chirps and tweets waking me up, bright yellow coltsfoot sprouting up from the gravel filled burms, horses tails gently tossing about in the breeze. It has been a blessing to have these things fill my spring days. I have to look at each thing sometimes and deliberately say, “That is a blessing.”

Spring just is an especially hard season for myself, despite all the promise every new start represents. From crisp green blades of grass growing, to birds carrying twigs to their nests, sometimes it can seem like the world is moving on, and it can feel like I am not. Or sometimes worse, I feel like, if I move on like the little birds building a new nest, that I am leaving behind a part of me, and I don’t want to.

I lost my son in the spring time, and most recently, Shane and I lost our dear friend. Here we are, in a most promising part of the year, visuals of new beginnings all around, but the gash left by loss is so painful. Part of me doesn’t desire moving on, fearing the distance that will surely come, the days that will stack up between the time of knowing the ones I loved and have lost and the present. I don’t want it to be almost four weeks, then five, then six, then a year since Scott was here.

But we cannot live in winter for forever. Spring must come. With it comes beautiful things, and even though those beautiful things can be hard to look at, they are a blessing. They are a reminder that beauty can come from the dirt and mud and once frozen soil.

Revelation 21:5 “And He who sits on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new” and He said, “Write, for these words are faithful and true.”

So I have been watching the birds. It has been a delight. We live in a place surrounded by water and woods, so to our feeder comes a fun variety of winged creatures. I am most excited by our little Eastern Wood Pewee couple I was able to identify, though they look like other flycatchers, their song set them apart. The little couple decided to build a nest on our home, and Shane was going to knock it down thinking it was just some sort of swallow, but I convinced him otherwise since Mr and Mrs Pewee are in the flycatcher family.

A cardinal couple has been flitting around our porch very often as well. They sit on our cars and chirp as they bounce from side mirror to ground and back again. I knew their nest had to be nearby, and after observing Mrs Red, I found her nest indeed was close. Right in the bush by our stairs to our porch. She has recently started sitting on her three little speckled eggs.

Matthew 6:26  “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?”

Of course, it may seem overly cliche to bring up Jesus talking about the birds, or to put a few lines from the classic hymn “His Eye is On the Sparrow”, but how beautifully true it all is. Here we are, my husband and I and those who loved Scott, in the midst of grief, and God is not overlooking it. If he can supply little Mr and Mrs Pewee and Mr and Mrs Red a spot for their nests, then how much more will he supply for us if we just trust.

Just like he can turn around and make new things from the frozen, colorless mud winter left, he can make our colorless, sad days new. The days will come, we can’t stop that, but what we can do is trust the God of the universe to take care of our days. We can keep our eyes open for blessings and reasons to be thankful for each new day. He knows our pain and sorrows, He knows our relief and joys. Here it is, if His eye is on the sparrow, then you’ve got to know, His eye is on you!

First Dayers

Opening day of trout went off splendidly! My first cast, I reeled back in a lovely, little rainbow. I can honestly say that was the first time that has ever happened to me. This, I think, got everyone keyed up to get their own; in our early morning fishing party there was my husband, my dad, and my cousin Leah. Leah has never been fishing, this was something Scott promised to do with her, and they never got the chance. So out on Parker Dam we went to be “first dayers” as my husband calls them.

He and Scott were never “first dayers”, in fact, they often were annoyed by all the people who stand shoulder to shoulder on our shoresides that one day a year. Though my dad took me to places Like Moose Creek in Clearfield, Pennsylvania and out on streams in South Dakota’s Custer National Park, my father and I, for sake of tradition, often were Shane’s loathed “first dayers.” He teased about bringing his sleeping bag and camping chair to Parker Dam so that he could stay warm as he napped with his bobber and Power Bait in the water.

Then cast, bizzzz, plunk, and “I got one!” happened, and Shane perked up, Leah and my dad too. My dad was the next one to pull a flipping-flopping trout to shore. I think it was impressive to Leah to see fish getting caught so quickly, and I am sure it gave her the wrong idea. It took her until the afternoon before she finally got her own slippery, wiggly trout, and it was a good moment.

For our Easter dinner I cooked up five of the trout for people to try. It by no means was the staple protein at the table, but I was excited to share our bounty. Mainly the men munched on the fish, but others did give a small bite a try. All last year I had been wanting to cook up this recipe for Shane, and for what ever reason, mainly for lack of trout, I never got to. Finally, he got to see why I enjoy keeping the trout I catch.

While we all enjoyed the fuss and excitement of the first day of trout, Monday was a less adrenaline filled day. Leah and I went to the gym, then out for lunch in this area I am now calling home. Conversation focused around Scott as we talked about things that made him so great, plans they had had, and things they had done. It was a good and needed day that ended with something he was truly passionate about, fly fishing.

Leah put on hip-waders for the first time and her lesson began with Shane in the waters of Lake Arthur. I myself am still learning, so I didn’t have any input on the lesson and was practicing my own motion of the fly rod. The only thing I encouraged was to come out further because we could see striper action on the water. She did catch a bluegill before we went in and discovered that for the last half of it, she was with out a fly due to the whipping she was doing instead of casting. I was lucky enough to catch a bluegill and a striper, and I lost count of how many fish Shane caught.

When we were packing up Leah commented on how this was fun, but not a hobby she would probably get into alone, right away. Shane reassured her that he was by no means an expert even though he had been doing it since he was a kid and that there are always things to learn with it. I guess that is one reason out of many our guys got so into fly fishing, there is always new things to learn, to catch, to try, and during it all, you are in the beauty of God’s creation.

When Scott said that he felt closest to God out in His creation, it is like he really got what C.S. Lewis was saying in his quote, “God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing.” If we hear the red wing black bird’s song as the water laps at our hip-waders and our rod goes whooshing through the air and don’t acknowledge that God created and gave us those things, finding peace while fishing Monday night may have been nearly impossible. Fortunately for us, that moment was a part of God’s peace painted out before us to partake in.

All three of us out there on the water have experienced a loss of someone who we loved. Believe me, at times it feels really unfair, and we are still wading through waves of emotions. But at the end of the day, we can have peace. Fly fishing on Monday was a moment of peace that energized our souls, enjoying God’s handiwork, from bright pink sunset, to scaly stripers. I honestly went back to Jonah a few times this weekend and remembered that God is a God of mercy and keeps his promises, even ones to give us peace.

Numbers 6:25-26 “the LORD make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the LORD lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.”

Revisiting Why

There are a lot of why’s right now in Shane and I’s life. I have been in a place where why’s can become all consuming. The biggest, most overpowering why of course being why did Scott’s life end so soon? The thing with why’s though is that to get caught up on the why can overshadow the times we did have. The little three letter word can overwhelm and block out the brightness that Scott’s life did bring to everyone. The parts where Scott was in our lives aren’t gone.

I wanted to share some previous writing I had done in regards to my son. I found this entry I did about asking how, not why. It’s curious, I don’t even remember writing it, so I really don’t remember who I am referring to when I give the quote someone gave me about people happening for a reason. Despite the mystery, the words from a previous me was comforting and I wanted to share.

I don’t often ask why when it comes to my baby not being with me. Partly because I know I will just never know in this life. Don’t get me wrong, I am utterly human,and there are days of complete frustration and I wonder why I am not holding my son. But it normally quickly subsides into saddness, and I wonder what I would be doing with him at that very moment.

Someone said to me in the middle of the time I had with my boy that she doesn’t believe in the statement that things happen for a reason, but she does believe people happen for a reason. I appriciated that statement, though there were days where I thought long and hard about it, because I struggled with the concept of it.

Maybe in the days where we ask why, why is this happening? Why did this happen to me?-maybe the best answer we can get right now is simply people happen for a reason. Whether it’s a baby that was only here two and a half days that changed your life, or it is now you, because of what you’ve been through and you have a chance to change someones life for the better.

In my last post I said how we are all beautiful. We are rifined by the fires of hardhsips in our lifes. The beautiful silver and gold could not be as beautiful with out being refined by fire. We are made who we are through time, undergoing the pressures of this life, like a diamond. A lump of something not on the beautiful side of things, made into a beautiful diamond by time and pressure. Those two visuals give me hope for myself.

Because of these trials we each go through, we have a chance to relate to different people and to help them, because people happen for a reason. This is a pretty big deal.

You often hear people say, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” Well, trial seems to show what’s really in the heart, and maybe bad things happen to good people because they come out for the better and they are a living example for those who are going through tribulation.

I can say I had a living example of someone who didn’t get bitter towards God when she was going through something terrible. Before I went through what I have gone through I was amazed that she, in her circumstance, didn’t ever lash out at God and just give up on him. She hung on tighter. She gave me hope, and I thought of her when I was going through hard times.

A woman told me that God hand picks us. Just that statement may not sound comforting right off hand. But she followed with He picks us because we are strong, and we will be able to handle what we’re going through and those around us. Now she was talking more about having a baby young, not married, but over all God still hand picks us because knows what we’re capable of.

People happen for a reason. JT, my baby, happened for a reason. That reason affected my life. So why did JT leave so soon I may never know exactly, but now it is the how I have to answer. How will I let what happened to me affect me? How will I let JT, this little person with a little life, affect me? For the better I hope, and I hope I can help other people struggling with the why.

The questions still remain, how will I let what happened affect me? Affect my marriage? How will I let Scott, this person who my husband was best friends with, affect me?

Right off the bat, I know how much color Scott and Shane brought into one another life. I am so grateful for their passion, I am grateful for having gotten to see it in full living color. How will I let Scott’s life affect me, our marriage? For the better I still hope; I know I must keep encouraging that passion and color to continue. I also still hope I can help other people struggling with the why.

“When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.” -Henri J.M. Nouwen

A Dear Friend

It would not be fair of me to kick off this blog with all these recipes, small adventures Shane and I go on, and stories about our lives, and not include a post about what most recently happened in our life. Shane and I are familiar with loss, he lost his mother to cancer, and I lost my infant son to something the doctors didn’t quite know how to label, so they decided on schizencephaly with a case of hydrocephalus. But last Sunday, we received a call  in the evening that we lost his dear, close friend to a wreck.

Last week I personally went through waves of disbelief, heartache, and even anger at the thought of Shane having his best friend snatched from his life. This man who always had a smile to share, the quickest wit of anyone I know, and so much hope for the future as he was making plans with us, other friends, and my dear cousin Leah.

So much could be said about this time, and yet there is still just a level of disbelief and a loss for words. What I will leave you with is what I shared at the funeral.

My name is Catherine, I’m Shane Elser’s wife. You know, when we started dating, I would often describe Scott as our third wheel. In all reality, there were many times I was the third wheel, joining them on some outing where they were doing something they were passionate about. I never minded, because it was always such a joy to witness their friendship. Looking back now, I can say not only was it a joy, but an honor to get to see such a once-in-a-lifetime type of friendship that was so rich, so genuine, and so enduring.

I am going to say a few words for Shane…

“I think that we can all agree that Scott was someone that everyone just wanted to be around. There was never a dull moment with him. He was a friend that, when I needed something, he was there, when I planned something, he was never late, and when I got into something, he was the one beside me. 

Everyone is asking me to tell a story about him or us and all the things we have done together in our lifetime, but I can’t pick one because we had so many, in fact, all of the good stories in my life have him in it, and some probably aren’t appropriate for this setting. I will share one though. I am not sure where we were at, but we were on a creek side somewhere fly fishing, which is when we were the most honest with each other; the big fish stories didn’t come out until we got home. Just him and I tying our flies on to start fishing, he stops what he is doing, looks around at the woods and the water and tells me, “The closest I feel to God is when I am in the woods or with a rod in my hands…” and then goes back to tying his fly. Well, after hearing that, I figured him and God were closer than we even were because his heart was in the woods and on the creek side. 

I think I knew Scott better than anyone, and I know if he wanted to leave a legacy, it would simply be, do what you enjoy, love what you are doing, and have a good time doing it. I will speak for him when I say, whether your fly is in the water or in the tree, just remember where you are and make it a good time, because he always did.”

There aren’t enough words to describe how deeply Scott will be missed. Everything Shane did was with you, Scott. I hardly know a story from Shane’s childhood that doesn’t begin with with “Scott and I…” We know you’d never stop living life to the fullest, so we are going to try to live on, Scott, and carry on doing those things you loved in honor of you, out in God’s nature you loved so much.

Job 12:7-10 “But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish in the sea inform you. Which of all these does not know that the hand of the LORD has done this? In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.”

Scott was the friend that we had gone to the winter rendezvous with, and we had planned to go to many more together. When we went to his committal service, I said to Shane, “Rendezvous means meeting place right?” He said yes, so I told him that I wanted to wear my new rendezvous dress to the graveyard, as it would be the last meeting place we would be at until we meet again in heaven.

Thank goodness for the nice weather of this past weekend. We were able to get out on the lake with Shane’s brother and sister-in-law and just enjoy God’s creation like Scott would’ve. We didn’t catch anything, but the breath of fresh air, God’s air, filled our lungs and gave some peace.