April 2008 written by Casey
The other day a little piece of my heart broke off and dissolved into nothingness. I felt it happen. It was a distinct break.
It was not to be mistaken for anything else. It was definitely a piece of my heart.
That little piece had been painful for a long time, always a dull steady simmering as if waiting for the final moments of it’s hanging on to at last take place.
Out of somewhere so deep that words are not allowed or com-prehended, the tearing began…
steadily and slowly ripping into my chest as it cut itself off from the rest of its’ surroundings.
No panic really, only inside wailing mounting higher as the tearing finished.
Suddenly it was silent and the pressure was lifted. Like a tightly wrapped spring that had gained freedom at last. A sure resolution came over my whole heart as it sighed loudly “finally”
I think it was the first time I actually lost a piece of my heart forever. It has been shredded, stomped, rejected, blessed and full to overflowing before, but it still stayed intact.
Not this time.
I wonder if anyone has ever studied how many little pieces of a heart can break off before the accumulation is more than their remaining heart? Will it be missed? And does it repair itself this side of Heaven?
Before any answers come,
Somewhere deeper than this first break, I feel another starting.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
The Red Plate
Written by Casey June 29,2006
When the children were little, we had a big red plate just like so many other families during the mid 70's. It read “You are special today” across the top in bold white letters set against the deep red. The red plate was pretty exciting. It represented delightful feelings of love, importance, and power. It meant you were picked out today as THE SPECIAL ONE. Whether the occasion was a birthday, losing a tooth or passing a test, out came the red plate. The boys loved that plate. They would watch as I set the table with all the regular dishes while the honored person would get the red plate at their place, the special one.
I had forgotten that tiny part of life tucked away in memories until yesterday. A young mother I love came in the store to give me a hug and tell me she loves me. Her hurt over Paddy leaving was so evident she could not speak, and I could tell the whole time she was in my store that she was on the verge of a very hard cry and did not trust her mouth to even open. Our eyes said it all. Her three little ones, who I absolutely adore, hung around her legs as she walked in, till they saw me. Then the run to get their special hugs began. I needed that so! She left after awhile, but in less than an hour she came bouncing back in the store with the most beautiful smile on her face and a box in her hands. She laid the box on the counter, said “I just saw this at a sale and I had to get it. I knew I was supposed to give it to you.” She left as quickly as her tears were breaking through. One of “those moments.” Mom to mom.
The store was quiet that day, and I sat down and put the box in my lap. Inside the box, a shiny new red plate that immediately threw me back in time. It looked exactly like the red plate of years ago! As I gazed at it I was filled with a deep fluttering of hope and the sweetness of yesterday only moms can understand. The words on it where not “you are special today”…the words on it were:
“God thinks you are special today…..and every day”
There are no words to describe what I felt when I saw it. I think, as my precious friend Beverly says, it was a sweet kiss from Jesus. And I also think a big hug from Patrick. I knew again that through my aching and longing I would be getting a lot of those joyful kisses and hugs and messages.
Sweet Lord, keep me sensitive to them and to welcome them. Help me to see all the others that have a void in their lives because Paddy is gone for them too. Help me make others who are grieving to feel how special they are to YOU. Enlarge my territory of pain to include others You send me who need a hug from YOU.
The red plate is returning to our home and it will be taken out for grandchildren, friends, family members and anyone else who comes by, this I know.
A few weeks before Paddy left, a little framed poem he had ordered off the internet arrived in the mail. He said right off, “Mom this is such a cheesy plastic thing but it had all the words I wanted to say to you on it.”
“The greatest impression a mother can leave on her child is the message of her living FAITH, Unwavering HOPE, And steady TRUST in GOD that will be engraved on their hearts forever.” (Bonnie Jensen)
I think tonight I will eat on the red plate.
When the children were little, we had a big red plate just like so many other families during the mid 70's. It read “You are special today” across the top in bold white letters set against the deep red. The red plate was pretty exciting. It represented delightful feelings of love, importance, and power. It meant you were picked out today as THE SPECIAL ONE. Whether the occasion was a birthday, losing a tooth or passing a test, out came the red plate. The boys loved that plate. They would watch as I set the table with all the regular dishes while the honored person would get the red plate at their place, the special one.
I had forgotten that tiny part of life tucked away in memories until yesterday. A young mother I love came in the store to give me a hug and tell me she loves me. Her hurt over Paddy leaving was so evident she could not speak, and I could tell the whole time she was in my store that she was on the verge of a very hard cry and did not trust her mouth to even open. Our eyes said it all. Her three little ones, who I absolutely adore, hung around her legs as she walked in, till they saw me. Then the run to get their special hugs began. I needed that so! She left after awhile, but in less than an hour she came bouncing back in the store with the most beautiful smile on her face and a box in her hands. She laid the box on the counter, said “I just saw this at a sale and I had to get it. I knew I was supposed to give it to you.” She left as quickly as her tears were breaking through. One of “those moments.” Mom to mom.
The store was quiet that day, and I sat down and put the box in my lap. Inside the box, a shiny new red plate that immediately threw me back in time. It looked exactly like the red plate of years ago! As I gazed at it I was filled with a deep fluttering of hope and the sweetness of yesterday only moms can understand. The words on it where not “you are special today”…the words on it were:
“God thinks you are special today…..and every day”
There are no words to describe what I felt when I saw it. I think, as my precious friend Beverly says, it was a sweet kiss from Jesus. And I also think a big hug from Patrick. I knew again that through my aching and longing I would be getting a lot of those joyful kisses and hugs and messages.
Sweet Lord, keep me sensitive to them and to welcome them. Help me to see all the others that have a void in their lives because Paddy is gone for them too. Help me make others who are grieving to feel how special they are to YOU. Enlarge my territory of pain to include others You send me who need a hug from YOU.
The red plate is returning to our home and it will be taken out for grandchildren, friends, family members and anyone else who comes by, this I know.
A few weeks before Paddy left, a little framed poem he had ordered off the internet arrived in the mail. He said right off, “Mom this is such a cheesy plastic thing but it had all the words I wanted to say to you on it.”
“The greatest impression a mother can leave on her child is the message of her living FAITH, Unwavering HOPE, And steady TRUST in GOD that will be engraved on their hearts forever.” (Bonnie Jensen)
I think tonight I will eat on the red plate.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Where Will Complaining Get You?
Where Will Complaining Get You?
Author: Elisabeth Elliot
Devotion: Elisabeth Elliot
Book: Keep A Quiet Heart
When we were in Dallas for a visit, we were the
guests of our dear friend Nina Jean Obel. As we
sat one morning in her beautiful sunshiny yellow
and pale-green kitchen, she reminded us of how,
in the story in Deuteronomy 1, when the
Israelites were within fourteen days of the
Promised Land, they complained. Complaining was a
habit which had angered Moses, their leader, to
the point where he wished he were dead. "How can
I bear unaided the heavy burden you are to me,
and put up with your complaints?" he asked. They
headed for Horeb, but when they reached the hill
country of the Amorites they refused to believe
the promises and insisted on sending spies to see
what sort of a land it was. The spies came back
with a glowing report, but the people didn't
believe that either. Never mind the lovely fruit
the land offered. There were giants in the land;
they'd all be killed. There were huge
fortifications towering to the sky. How would
they ever conquer them?
It was the neurotic's attitude. No answer would
do. No solution offered was good enough. The
promises of God, the direction of Moses, the
report of the spies--all unacceptable. The people
had already made up their minds that they didn't
like anything God was doing. They "muttered
treason." They said the Lord hated them. He
brought them out only to have them wiped out by
the Amorites. O God, what a fate. O God, why do
you treat us this way? O God, how are we going to
get out of this? It's your fault. You hate us.
Moses hates us. Everything and everybody's
against us.
Nina Jean said she made up her mind that if
complaining was the reason God's people were
denied the privilege of entering Canaan, she was
going to quit it. She set herself a tough task:
absolutely no complaining for fourteen days. It
was a revelation to her--first, of how strong a
habit it had become, and second, of how different
the whole world looked when she did not complain.
I get the impression when I'm around Nina Jean
that the fourteen-day trial was enough to kick
the habit. I've never heard her complain.
It's not just the sunshine and the colors that
make her kitchen a nice place to be. It's that
Nina Jean is there. I'd like to create that sort
of climate for the people I'm around. I've set
myself the same task.
Note:
Nina Jean introduced us to the doctor in England that treated Patrick for over 10 years. What an amazing sister in Christ and true friend, and what an amazing part she played in our journey. Soon I will tell more of her story, but for now you get an idea of the depth of her. A major warrior in the journey.
She died several years ago. She was a true mentor to me, and I learned much from her. I think of her daily. Her Devotion and Obedience to the Lord, her unconditional love for others, and her very presence will continue to influence and stay with me till I see her again. I know she is another one of the saints "in the stands cheering us on"
For as he thinks in his heart, so is he. Proverbs 23:7
Author: Elisabeth Elliot
Devotion: Elisabeth Elliot
Book: Keep A Quiet Heart
When we were in Dallas for a visit, we were the
guests of our dear friend Nina Jean Obel. As we
sat one morning in her beautiful sunshiny yellow
and pale-green kitchen, she reminded us of how,
in the story in Deuteronomy 1, when the
Israelites were within fourteen days of the
Promised Land, they complained. Complaining was a
habit which had angered Moses, their leader, to
the point where he wished he were dead. "How can
I bear unaided the heavy burden you are to me,
and put up with your complaints?" he asked. They
headed for Horeb, but when they reached the hill
country of the Amorites they refused to believe
the promises and insisted on sending spies to see
what sort of a land it was. The spies came back
with a glowing report, but the people didn't
believe that either. Never mind the lovely fruit
the land offered. There were giants in the land;
they'd all be killed. There were huge
fortifications towering to the sky. How would
they ever conquer them?
It was the neurotic's attitude. No answer would
do. No solution offered was good enough. The
promises of God, the direction of Moses, the
report of the spies--all unacceptable. The people
had already made up their minds that they didn't
like anything God was doing. They "muttered
treason." They said the Lord hated them. He
brought them out only to have them wiped out by
the Amorites. O God, what a fate. O God, why do
you treat us this way? O God, how are we going to
get out of this? It's your fault. You hate us.
Moses hates us. Everything and everybody's
against us.
Nina Jean said she made up her mind that if
complaining was the reason God's people were
denied the privilege of entering Canaan, she was
going to quit it. She set herself a tough task:
absolutely no complaining for fourteen days. It
was a revelation to her--first, of how strong a
habit it had become, and second, of how different
the whole world looked when she did not complain.
I get the impression when I'm around Nina Jean
that the fourteen-day trial was enough to kick
the habit. I've never heard her complain.
It's not just the sunshine and the colors that
make her kitchen a nice place to be. It's that
Nina Jean is there. I'd like to create that sort
of climate for the people I'm around. I've set
myself the same task.
Note:
Nina Jean introduced us to the doctor in England that treated Patrick for over 10 years. What an amazing sister in Christ and true friend, and what an amazing part she played in our journey. Soon I will tell more of her story, but for now you get an idea of the depth of her. A major warrior in the journey.
She died several years ago. She was a true mentor to me, and I learned much from her. I think of her daily. Her Devotion and Obedience to the Lord, her unconditional love for others, and her very presence will continue to influence and stay with me till I see her again. I know she is another one of the saints "in the stands cheering us on"
For as he thinks in his heart, so is he. Proverbs 23:7
Sunday, January 27, 2008
October 14, 2004-Pat's journal
“Somewhere” by Patrick Thompson
(the new brain tumor found) October 14, 2004
One of my favorite songs is, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”. I know that is odd but this song almost more than any seems to always bring me a sense of calmness regardless of the destruction taking place inside me. I believe this place “over the rainbow” is heaven, and that it is the place where I will be found someday by fellow believers. Sometimes I sit in my office late into the night and early into the morning playing this song over and over again.
“Someday I will wake up upon a star where the clouds are far behind me”. I will wake up in the arms of Jesus holding me as he did when Thomas, mom, John and I lost our home and everything we owned. As he did when I was 10 and I found myself face down passed out on the peewee football field, the beginning of my cancer battle. He was there when I was finally old enough to know what the word Cancer meant. He was there on that soccer field at Baylor U. when my leg bones snapped in half at the first hit from the other team. That hit started the the cancer in my jaw to start growing aggressively. He was there the night my Uncle Charlie, my cancer buddy went to be with Him. He has been there through each heartbreak and disappointment in my life, each challenge faced. Every tear HE has wiped away, even now with my current brain tumor. He has been there in each defeat of my life. In defeat we find victory, victory through Jesus.
As I see it (and I’m far from a Bible scholar) the Victory is (regardless of falling and being knocked down and being bruised) eventually getting back up, getting back in. The bruises eventually go away. Sometimes you are left with a scar but doesn’t that make you stronger? Jesus’ body was full of scars and He got back up only to receive three more on His hands and feet that changed mankind.
“Someday I’ll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me”…
Wake up in the arms of Jesus with scars, but completely healed.
(the new brain tumor found) October 14, 2004
One of my favorite songs is, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”. I know that is odd but this song almost more than any seems to always bring me a sense of calmness regardless of the destruction taking place inside me. I believe this place “over the rainbow” is heaven, and that it is the place where I will be found someday by fellow believers. Sometimes I sit in my office late into the night and early into the morning playing this song over and over again.
“Someday I will wake up upon a star where the clouds are far behind me”. I will wake up in the arms of Jesus holding me as he did when Thomas, mom, John and I lost our home and everything we owned. As he did when I was 10 and I found myself face down passed out on the peewee football field, the beginning of my cancer battle. He was there when I was finally old enough to know what the word Cancer meant. He was there on that soccer field at Baylor U. when my leg bones snapped in half at the first hit from the other team. That hit started the the cancer in my jaw to start growing aggressively. He was there the night my Uncle Charlie, my cancer buddy went to be with Him. He has been there through each heartbreak and disappointment in my life, each challenge faced. Every tear HE has wiped away, even now with my current brain tumor. He has been there in each defeat of my life. In defeat we find victory, victory through Jesus.
As I see it (and I’m far from a Bible scholar) the Victory is (regardless of falling and being knocked down and being bruised) eventually getting back up, getting back in. The bruises eventually go away. Sometimes you are left with a scar but doesn’t that make you stronger? Jesus’ body was full of scars and He got back up only to receive three more on His hands and feet that changed mankind.
“Someday I’ll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me”…
Wake up in the arms of Jesus with scars, but completely healed.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Uncharted Waters
I have been meaning to do this for a long while...but I have instead saved and strewn many tidbits of papers, post its, Word writings, scribbles and notes to myself simply all over my world. It will take me months to gather them all up and put them in order. Until then, here is the place I am committing to place all new thoughts. If and when I come across all of the older ones, they will join the others here. Someday soon I will have The Book.
The Book-let me explain. I have been writing TB since 1984. Along the way I decided there were several books. Some full of short stories, some vignettes and some journaling of the incredible journey I have been on-all non fiction. People have told me I should label my book as fiction since one would find it hard to read believing it is all true, but it is.
Then, as many of you know, Patrick died. The notes and writings on all of our grief has became a journey of it's own as I listen to so many tell me their feelings as they also struggle through his leaving. Then when I gathered all his journals together I saw a bigger book. I encourage you who knew him to send me stories and laughter and encouraging words he gave you also. His book has become The Book.
His yearning was to be remembered. We must remember him. We must continue to share his dreams and encouragement and laughter....because saints cannot be buried.
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