My grandma's funeral service was yesterday in Topeka, Kansas. Josh and I weren't able to fly down for the service, but my grandpa did ask me to write Grandma's eulogy, and my brother Blake read it. What a privilege.
I am so honored to have had a grandma who tried to always reflect Christ. Death is bittersweet- she's free, but we'll miss her here.
Here's the eulogy I wrote, erased, rewrote, and then tweaked. It is incredibly difficult to mash someone's lifetime into a few words.
Putting into Words, What Words Can’t Really Say
Many different adjectives and nouns could describe my grandma. Grandma was a whistler, a hand-holder, and a wonderful hugger. She was a ventriloquist, a cake baker and decorator, a practical joker, a youth group leader, a traveling saleswoman, a jewelry saleswoman, and a Mary Kay consultant. While grandma spent some time doing these things, she spent a lifetime being a daughter, a sister, a mother, grandma, great-grandma, friend, and wife. She was many things to many people, but above all, she loved.
Grandma loved games! Card games, board games, picture games- she was always ready for a challenge, and a win. There are many lessons to be learned while playing games. Sportsmanship. Integrity. Honesty. Humbleness. If you watched and listened, you could glean words of wisdom and life lessons from Grandma while playing games. She once said to Grandpa after beating him at Pitch, “It was only a game…But I won!” See? Honesty.
Grandma loved life. She had a true vigor for living. She embraced her time in each of her roles with zeal. Grandma rarely complained about her odd jobs, and she almost always found something to be excited about and have fun with. Grandma loved life so much and wanted so badly to live that she conquered cancer for nearly thirty years. She decided during her first battle in the 80’s that life was worth fighting for, so she made firm resolution to not just live life, but to love it.
Grandma loved people. In her own words, she “always loved people and was a social bug.” She and grandpa made a ministry out of inviting singles to their house for dinner and games. She loved that ministry and each person who stepped into her home. She and grandpa used to lead a youth group, and by their love, teens were impacted with the love of Christ. Grandma always had jobs where she was able to work with people. Karla’s Cakes and Balloons, JC Penny’s, going door to door to sell Tupperware- each job revolved around forming positive relationships with people. And family. Any form- from immediate family to third cousins twice removed. Family was always a cherished piece of Grandma’s life, and family members were always her favorite people.
Grandma loved Grandpa. Grandpa Larry is a pest to many, a father to four, a grandpa to eleven, a great-grandpa to three, but a lover to only one, to Karla. The two were synonymous with one another. It’s impossible to think Karla without thinking Larry, or think Larry without thinking Karla. June 5th would have marked their 53rd wedding anniversary. Many people fall very short of such a landmark, but Grandma and Grandpa celebrated each year deeper in love than the previous year. Not many couples are quite so perfectly matched, but these two lived a testimony of what Christ’s love truly is. They were faithful. They were servants. They were accountable. They were authentic. And let’s face it, love is messy. It’s not easy to love, and love isn’t just some butterfly emotion you feel. Love is a choice, even when it’s hard. And after 52 years of marriage, Grandma and Grandpa still chose each other. Not the kind of choice you submit to and grit your teethe to and wait for the time pass. No. Theirs was the kind of choice you rejoice in, and celebrate, and eagerly wake up to each and every morning.
Grandma loved God. Her dad taught her to value integrity and honesty while her mom taught her to laugh and have fun, to care and love. But both taught her, as Grandma put it, to “live by the Bible...and if we didn’t want to, Daddy made us want to.” When Grandma Karla was twelve, she gave her heart to Christ and decided for herself that she wanted to follow after His example. Grandma said, “My main goal was to please God,” and she tried to reflect Christ’s actions and words throughout her life.
In October, I received word that my grandma’s cancer was back, but not just back, aggressive. I talked to my principal, scrawled out lesson plans, left my tenth and twelfth grade students, and caught a flight from Idaho to Kansas.
In the days I was able to spend with my grandparents, I asked Grandma if she was scared. She answered me simply by asking, “Do you have any idea what it’s like to live with a time clock over your head?”
So often when dealing with death, language fails. Words fail. Death was never part of the plan- we weren’t meant for separation. And we simply don’t know what to say. It’s usually when we realize that death is creeping in that we begin to live.
But Grandma lived and loved fiercely. She always did. She didn’t wait until her clock began to run out, she loved throughout the whole span of her life.
I think her question, “Do you have any idea what it’s like to live with a time clock over your head,” was more for herself than me.
Grandma’s voice wobbled a bit when she then looked at me and asked, “Have you ever known anyone who’s been healed?”
Tears flooded my eyes as I looked at her and said, “You, Grandma. About a year ago.” She had had cancer cells numbering in the thousands, and within weeks, they dropped below ten, and the doctors couldn’t explain it.
She said, “So I got a year? Why would God only give me a year?”
And it didn’t dawn on me until now. God didn’t give her a year. He gave us a year. Grandma loved so completely and passionately. She lived a great life. God gave us a year, to soak up a little bit more of mom…sister…grandma…friend….and wife. God gave us a year to love her.
We’re all dying. Birth is initial, death is inevitable. It’s the space in-between that we call life, and that life is meant for loving. Grandma modeled that.
First Peter tells us to “love one another earnestly,” and I John tells us that whoever loves “knows God.” Love like Karla Lesslie loved.
We can’t have Life without death. Life is Christ, but we won’t meet Christ until we travel through the grave. But he’s waiting to greet us at the gates of eternity, waiting to love us. The true promise of Life lies on the brink of death. We win. Because Christ is the ultimate prize. But that doesn’t make death any easier for the people left here.
What an incredible impact Grandma Karla made. And while we will miss her, and cry for her, ultimately, we are loved and she was loved.
Paul tells us in Romans 8, verses 37-39 “No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our LORD.”
Nothing. No thing will separate us from the love of God.
Grandma wins, because Grandma is with Love, and that love is Jesus Christ.
And that is worth celebrating.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Thursday, February 23, 2012
I Am A Seed
I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately.
Last Thursday my grandpa, Elmore Blain, passed away.
Very early this morning, Ashley’s grandma, Karla Lesslie, passed away.
I want to share a thought that has encouraged me.
It might come out a bit like a written sermon, but hey, I’m a pastor. I can’t help it.
Paul writes to the church in Corinth, and talks to them about death and resurrection. Especially resurrection. They are arguing over whether or not there will be a resurrection at all, and if so, what kind of bodies the people will have, where those bodies will come from, what they will look like, how will they work, etc.
Paul says this;
“But someone will ask, 'How are the dead raised? With what kind of body will they come?' How foolish! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. When you sow, you do not plant the body that will be, but just a seed, perhaps of wheat or of something else. But God gives it a body as he has determined, and to each kind of seed he gives it’s own body.”
- I Corinthians 15:35-38
We have four Norway Maple trees in our yard. Every year I rake up millions of seeds - the helicopter wing kind. They are small seeds, about the size of a pea. They grow into these huge, beautiful, shady, amazing trees.
Paul says the resurrection body is no more similar to our earthly bodies than a seed is to a tree. The seed is just the beginning. The seed is the starting point. The tree is like the seed in some ways. An apple seed doesn’t grow into an orange tree. A maple seed doesn’t grow into a birch. In that way the seed and the tree are the same. But the tree is so much bigger and brighter and more alive than the seed ever was, even when it was still alive and growing on the branch.
The seed is complex, beautiful, and amazing. I wonder at how something so tiny can grow into something so enormous. But it was not made to be a seed. A seed is only a small representation of what is to come. A seed is supposed to be a tree, or wheat, or a flower, or a potato. It’s not supposed to stay a seed.
The catch is that in order for the seed to become what it is supposed to be, it has to die. It has to give up its life, and be put into the ground. Think about a tree that is 100 years old, and someone being sad that the seed had to die before the tree could grow. That sadness, if it is exists at all, is so small that it starts to not be a sadness at all.
When people we love die, it hurts. I watched my grandpa take his last breath, with three other grown men, and my mom, all of us crying like babies, and my grandma clutching his arm, weeping. Ashley sat up many sleepless nights by her grandma’s side, the doctors saying, “It should be today.” every day for a week. Death hurts. We mourn. It isn’t easy.
But we weren’t made for this world. Our true life is still waiting for us. If we live forever here on this earth, we can never become who we were deeply, truly, eternally made to be. A seed isn’t supposed to stay a seed. It’s supposed to become a tree.
Later in that same passage, Paul says,
“When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: 'Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?'"
And so Death is no longer a defeat. Death is no longer the final disaster. Death becomes a necessary transition into true life. Through faith in Christ, Death has been defeated. Through a beautiful irony, death in Christ means the beginning of true life. Bigger, brighter, stronger, more beautiful.
We should not mourn for the body that dies, and is planted in the ground. We should be filled with joy and hope that the life of one who has their hope in Christ has not ended, but only just begun.
I will end with lyrics from the song “I Am A Seed,” by David Crowder Band.
“Oh I've been pushed down into the ground
Oh how I have been trampled down
Lord I put my trust in thee
You won't turn your back on me
Oh I am a seed
Oh I am a seed
I've been pushed down into the ground
But I will rise up a tree”
Last Thursday my grandpa, Elmore Blain, passed away.
Very early this morning, Ashley’s grandma, Karla Lesslie, passed away.
I want to share a thought that has encouraged me.
It might come out a bit like a written sermon, but hey, I’m a pastor. I can’t help it.
Paul writes to the church in Corinth, and talks to them about death and resurrection. Especially resurrection. They are arguing over whether or not there will be a resurrection at all, and if so, what kind of bodies the people will have, where those bodies will come from, what they will look like, how will they work, etc.
Paul says this;
“But someone will ask, 'How are the dead raised? With what kind of body will they come?' How foolish! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. When you sow, you do not plant the body that will be, but just a seed, perhaps of wheat or of something else. But God gives it a body as he has determined, and to each kind of seed he gives it’s own body.”
- I Corinthians 15:35-38
We have four Norway Maple trees in our yard. Every year I rake up millions of seeds - the helicopter wing kind. They are small seeds, about the size of a pea. They grow into these huge, beautiful, shady, amazing trees.
Paul says the resurrection body is no more similar to our earthly bodies than a seed is to a tree. The seed is just the beginning. The seed is the starting point. The tree is like the seed in some ways. An apple seed doesn’t grow into an orange tree. A maple seed doesn’t grow into a birch. In that way the seed and the tree are the same. But the tree is so much bigger and brighter and more alive than the seed ever was, even when it was still alive and growing on the branch.
The seed is complex, beautiful, and amazing. I wonder at how something so tiny can grow into something so enormous. But it was not made to be a seed. A seed is only a small representation of what is to come. A seed is supposed to be a tree, or wheat, or a flower, or a potato. It’s not supposed to stay a seed.
The catch is that in order for the seed to become what it is supposed to be, it has to die. It has to give up its life, and be put into the ground. Think about a tree that is 100 years old, and someone being sad that the seed had to die before the tree could grow. That sadness, if it is exists at all, is so small that it starts to not be a sadness at all.
When people we love die, it hurts. I watched my grandpa take his last breath, with three other grown men, and my mom, all of us crying like babies, and my grandma clutching his arm, weeping. Ashley sat up many sleepless nights by her grandma’s side, the doctors saying, “It should be today.” every day for a week. Death hurts. We mourn. It isn’t easy.
But we weren’t made for this world. Our true life is still waiting for us. If we live forever here on this earth, we can never become who we were deeply, truly, eternally made to be. A seed isn’t supposed to stay a seed. It’s supposed to become a tree.
Later in that same passage, Paul says,
“When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: 'Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?'"
And so Death is no longer a defeat. Death is no longer the final disaster. Death becomes a necessary transition into true life. Through faith in Christ, Death has been defeated. Through a beautiful irony, death in Christ means the beginning of true life. Bigger, brighter, stronger, more beautiful.
We should not mourn for the body that dies, and is planted in the ground. We should be filled with joy and hope that the life of one who has their hope in Christ has not ended, but only just begun.
I will end with lyrics from the song “I Am A Seed,” by David Crowder Band.
“Oh I've been pushed down into the ground
Oh how I have been trampled down
Lord I put my trust in thee
You won't turn your back on me
Oh I am a seed
Oh I am a seed
I've been pushed down into the ground
But I will rise up a tree”
Gone Home
In October of 2010, I hopped a last minute flight to visit my grandma and grandpa after Grandma had been diagnosed with cancer. The doctors thought then that she would pass away within just a few months, but she didn't. She fought. Hard.
Almost eighteen months later, my grandma may have lost her fight against cancer, but she really won her fight for Life.
I was able to fly home this last weekend, and soak up a few more memories, kisses, and conversations with the grandma who baked my wedding cake, the grandma who told me as a kid to cry all my tears into buckets so I could save them, the grandma who led a beautiful example of what marriage could look like and lived that marriage for almost 53 years.
Josh's grandpa Elmore just passed away a week ago today. His service was Monday, and it was a beautiful celebration of Elmore's life. Elmore lived a life devoted to God, and has left behind a legacy of children and grandchildren who want to pursue the same Christ he did.
Josh and I are so blessed to have grandparents who have impacted the kingdom, and who have modeled Christ-likeness. Were they perfect? Absolutely not. But were they sold out believers? Absolutely yes.
I can only imagine what Grandma opened her eyes to this morning as she left this earthly home to find embrace in the Father's arms. And I can only imagine the reunion that is taking place in the lofty realms right now.
And I can't help but smile. I'm heart broken at my own loss of a grandma, but overjoyed at the freedom of pain and weariness that Grandma has found.
Today is a good day.
And Grandma wins.
Almost eighteen months later, my grandma may have lost her fight against cancer, but she really won her fight for Life.
I was able to fly home this last weekend, and soak up a few more memories, kisses, and conversations with the grandma who baked my wedding cake, the grandma who told me as a kid to cry all my tears into buckets so I could save them, the grandma who led a beautiful example of what marriage could look like and lived that marriage for almost 53 years.
Josh's grandpa Elmore just passed away a week ago today. His service was Monday, and it was a beautiful celebration of Elmore's life. Elmore lived a life devoted to God, and has left behind a legacy of children and grandchildren who want to pursue the same Christ he did.
Josh and I are so blessed to have grandparents who have impacted the kingdom, and who have modeled Christ-likeness. Were they perfect? Absolutely not. But were they sold out believers? Absolutely yes.
I can only imagine what Grandma opened her eyes to this morning as she left this earthly home to find embrace in the Father's arms. And I can only imagine the reunion that is taking place in the lofty realms right now.
And I can't help but smile. I'm heart broken at my own loss of a grandma, but overjoyed at the freedom of pain and weariness that Grandma has found.
Today is a good day.
And Grandma wins.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
The Iliad Comes to Life!
When the semester ended, six of my brightest seniors decided they'd rather be in my dual credit English class, leaving behind twelve very cranky seniors who just want to graduate. They don't want to read Hamlet, they don't want to read Faust, and they don't want to read The Iliad.
The Iliad is giving them particular grief because they just can't seem to keep the character names straight, or the allegiance of each character.
I'm pulling my hair out.
I gave them a quiz...
Everyone failed.
I tried a new, groundbreaking instruction method called the PEAK System, then gave them the exact same quiz to check for growth...
Everyone improved, but half only improved a to a higher "F".
How do I get these seniors to understand Homer's Iliad!????
Possibly one of the most random ideas I have ever had seems to have done the trick.
I bought toys.
Well, actually, Josh bought toys while he was in town picking up three wonderful OKWU students from the airport for Where's Weippe Ski Retreat, and he found an array of colorful and somewhat strange action figures, including G.I. Joe's, PEZ, and Happy Little Family.
I taped yellow on the gods, orange on the Achaeans, green on the Trojans, and pink on the Spartans. Some figures had two colors, such as Achilles, because he is both god and man, Myrmidon and Achaean, and also Helen because she was Spartan, then was stolen by a Trojan.
I thought up a funny saying for each figure, playing with them as I explained (which, if you know me well, then you know this is one of the hugest stretches of my entire life because I didn't even play with toys as a child...I played with paper I dug out of the trashcan!), then mixed all of the action figures up and told one of the boys to give a shot at his own explanation.
To my delight, he got it!
And so did boy #2, and boy #3, and boy #4.
One pricey investment in childhood action figures may have just saved my burnt out seniors from failure.
This puts a whole new twist on differentiated instruction, and while I don't think I'll be winning any awards for it, at least they've got it! And I finally learned to play with toys. Blake, you would be so proud!
The Iliad is giving them particular grief because they just can't seem to keep the character names straight, or the allegiance of each character.
I'm pulling my hair out.
I gave them a quiz...
Everyone failed.
I tried a new, groundbreaking instruction method called the PEAK System, then gave them the exact same quiz to check for growth...
Everyone improved, but half only improved a to a higher "F".
How do I get these seniors to understand Homer's Iliad!????
Possibly one of the most random ideas I have ever had seems to have done the trick.
I bought toys.
Well, actually, Josh bought toys while he was in town picking up three wonderful OKWU students from the airport for Where's Weippe Ski Retreat, and he found an array of colorful and somewhat strange action figures, including G.I. Joe's, PEZ, and Happy Little Family.
I taped yellow on the gods, orange on the Achaeans, green on the Trojans, and pink on the Spartans. Some figures had two colors, such as Achilles, because he is both god and man, Myrmidon and Achaean, and also Helen because she was Spartan, then was stolen by a Trojan.
I thought up a funny saying for each figure, playing with them as I explained (which, if you know me well, then you know this is one of the hugest stretches of my entire life because I didn't even play with toys as a child...I played with paper I dug out of the trashcan!), then mixed all of the action figures up and told one of the boys to give a shot at his own explanation.
To my delight, he got it!
And so did boy #2, and boy #3, and boy #4.
One pricey investment in childhood action figures may have just saved my burnt out seniors from failure.
This puts a whole new twist on differentiated instruction, and while I don't think I'll be winning any awards for it, at least they've got it! And I finally learned to play with toys. Blake, you would be so proud!
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