long post: faith, thoughts about Denise

Yesterday I started to write a post complaining about a slew of negative seeming things that have been happening in my life. I deleted the post and didn't end up writing my "rant" as I had intended. There is so much in my life to be thankful for that I just decided I didn't need to spend that much time complaining.

Even when I am aggravated or in grief I believe there is a reason and purpose to things, even if we cannot see or understand or know what that purpose is, and even if there is so much that seems purposeless or even absurd.

I want to strive to be loving and thankful and a vessel of peace even when things aren't going good. I don't want to have a kind of fair weather faith.

But I still get into these quiet spell type funks. Lately I don't really want to go to church, even though I am mostly always glad when I do go. I've missed the last two weeks of compline. I think though when I go again I will appreciate it more after having taken a couple weeks off.

About Denise:

I think about her when I brush my teeth. Maybe that's odd sounding. Part of the job was brushing her teeth and she had this electric vibrating toothbrush. Having never used one before, at first i was terrified of somehow hurting her with it. She was so patient and kind and reassuring to me though.

Sometimes, in the very beginning, the toothbrush would be on too high of a level and I would get toothpaste on her face. She always joked about this and I worked hard until I got it right. I would joke that there were two speeds to the toothbrush the "crazy" setting and then the "really crazy" setting. We laughed about this a lot.

because she was paralyzed, she had to be moved to and from bed using this tall metal contraption called a hoyer. I had no experience with it either and it scarred me because I was afraid she might feel pain if I lifted her in the wrong way. I always tried to be gentle. Some of her other caregivers she said wouldn't pay attention and would end up bumping her with it. I promised her I would never bump her and was always so careful-- I never did bump her and I am proud of that.

She was always trying to feed me and give me candy. She liked these sweet and sour lemon Sees Chocolate candies. I liked them too.

She was so kind and sweet and always glowing with love. She always asked me about what was happening in my love life and I always gave it to her straight-- she was so cool, she didn't judge me, she always encouraged me.

She encouraged me about the ministry. When I told her I didn't think I could write sermons she joked that Methodists have a bunch of sermons online and I could just get something off the internet, through in a few personal touches and be good to go! She seemed to believe there was some kind of sermon database the methodists kept online and that pastors often recycled their messages working off stuff they found on the internet. She also told me she thought the church would support me if I decided to go to seminary, as they had with Don. She said everyone she talked to from the church knew about me and loved me. When she said this I actually teared up a little bit. She always made me smile.

She loved her family and her daughters always called every night after she got done eating.

I remember the first time I had to do other care, I didn't know if I would be able to handle it, but I did it fine. I feel like I cared for her in a way that maintained dignity, while at the same time I was able to joke around with her. She was always making jokes about how she wasn't going anywhere. She loved peanut butter and jelly english muffins.

the first time i made her one i put peanut butter on one and jelly on the other and when i went to feed her i asked which one she wanted first- the peanut butter or the jelly. She started laughing so hard, I didn't know why, but she had never heard of separating out the two to each consecutive muffin half and thought it was hilarious. After that I always put both peanut butter AND jelly on each muffin and truth be told, it does taste better that way.

I had this plan of learning how to drive the special van. I thought eventually I could convince her to come with me to church, and that would solve the problem of us missing services-- I thought we could go together. She said she hadn't been to church in years. She didn't talk about God much, but you could just tell God was in her life. I don't really know how to explain it. She glowed and radiated with kindness and care for others.

It all happened so fast. In the middle of May I was asked if I would help do some caregiving for her, and I committed to 3 months. I thought God wanted me to do it. I really, really, really felt so deeply that God wanted me to do it that I was ok giving up church for 3 months to do it. I had no idea that she would pass away so soon, so suddenly seeming to me. I mean I knew she was advanced in her MS, but everything happened so fast. She was supposed to go to Las vegas to see her granddaughter born on the 4th of July.

In the end, she hung on. She was so strong, she clung to life with a kind of dignity I pray that if I was ever in that situation, I would be able to match. She was so strong willed and stubborn and courageous and brave and kind and filled with kindness and love toward others, looking beyond herself even as she came to the end of her life.

I don't know why God wanted me to help her. I'm not mad at God, I'm just sad. I also don't know how to process death. Where is Denise? Where do people go when they die? I don't really believe in some fairy boat heaven where Jesus has tea with you on a cloud, but is there some kind of after life? Where does the person go, the personality, the spirit, the soul, the energy of a person, where does that go? Does it just stop? Where is Denise?

I hope somehow I was able to be comforting to the family, and to be comforting to her other caregiver. i tried hard to check in with people and listened when people wanted to talk.

Maybe those were all reasons why I was supposed to help. One of the last times I saw Denise, I was sitting with her daughter. Denise was asleep. Sunlight filtered through the room. I really felt God's presence, or at least what I perceive to be God's presence. Just then her daughter turned to me and started talking about how hard it is to understand the will of God, what God is doing and why God does it. I strongly felt like I should just be quiet and listen to her. So I did that. I nodded and listened and didn't offer any platitudes or anything. And when she was done talking, she thanked me for listening and gave me a hug. If the only reason I was supposed to help Denise was to be there for her daughter in that one moment, then I am glad I was there.

It is hard to know what God is doing and why God does what God does. It seems like a paradox to be immersed in that kind of complexity- to simultaneously experience God's love and while also continuing to experience underlying uncertainty at the same time. I'm thankful for life. I want to be the kind of person that can praise God even in times of questioning and grief.