Thursday Thoughts With Theresa: 15 Minutes of Sight

Days before, family had come to town to visit him–to say their good­byes, as he laid there dying. His long lanky shriveled body lay under the blankets of his twin electronic bed. He refused food, water or an I.V. for nourishment. He said he was ready. That seemed to give others a sense of peace, but not me. Ready? What does that mean for a man of little faith?

I tried to ignore it and to accept that this was the cycle of life and it was just his time. I told myself that his own sons knew better than I–the hormonal granddaughter­in­law, growing a baby in her womb, who had only met this man a few years before. I hadn't been very comfortable around the man either, the man who grumbled over matters rather than offering his wisdom and blessing.

I tried but days later, one Saturday morning, I felt overwhelmingly compelled to go. I gave every excuse under the sun not to. Why would I go without my husband and small child? What would I say? It was a completely foreign thought and well out of my comfort zone.
 And so I decided to go exercise instead–to try to rationalize those thoughts away.

Yet when I got to the gym, I could not so much as run in place without feeling the need to get somewhere. I was antsy. I was driven. I was compelled to go.

Within five minutes of arriving at the gym, I was on my way out the door again and driving to the nursing home that housed my grandfather­in­law.

I walked in. He look surprised. He could not speak well anymore, dying of dehydration. I can't remember my words exactly, but I remember asking how he was and if he was ready. He nodded his head, yes.

I felt a flood coming and so I quickly asked if he believed. He said, just above a whisper, "Sort of."

I remember that wasn't enough for me and he attempted to change the subject with the little he could utter and asked if his son, my father­in­law, made it off okay, back home...but the rain poured just then and I said I was sorry and I brought the topic right back to where I had left off–that I needed him to believe because I wanted to see him again in heaven. I sniffled and caught my breath.

And I felt an overwhelming amount of love for the man laying there. I wiped my tears and said I wanted to hold his hand, but I was fighting a cold that I didn't want to give him.

He held his hand out anyway, so I took his warm hand in mine and I didn't know what to say next so I didn't say anything. I just held his hand. And then I said I should probably go.

He looked me in the eye and whispered, "Thank you."

I smiled and I didn't want to leave, but I knew it was time. And so I released his hand and he whispered again, "Thank you."

I left his room and went straight to the nurses station and asked for some hand sanitizer because I was fighting a cold. Then I walked right back to his room. He looked surprised.

I took his hand, the hand I had held, and rubbed the sanitizer over it. Then he lifted his other hand and so I rubbed sanitizer on that hand, too. I looked at him again and said good­bye.

He looked me in the eye and most sincerely whispered for the third time, "Thank you."
 I walked away, then stopped at the door, turned and waved. He lifted a hand and waved back. Then I went home, walked straight into my husband's arms and wept.
 I told him where I had been and I wept because I didn't feel like I had done enough. 
He said I did more than I knew.

I had prayed on my way to the nursing home that I would see my husband's grandfather through Jesus' eyes and not my own. And what I saw had little to do with physical eyes at all. When I left, I felt inseparable. Our family was heading out of town the next day and I didn't want to go. I didn't want to miss a day to be there with him.

That was the last day I saw him and I am told, the last day he had been able to utter any words.

He died the following Tuesday night and I don't know what happened between Saturday and Tuesday, but I have a hunch that the man I saw in those fifteen minutes saw for the first time, a glimmer of light.

I'll never know for sure this side of heaven if my offering was enough, but it wasn't up to me to do or be enough. It was up to me to simply show up. And the rest, up to Jesus.

It's Jesus who makes the blind see and the lost found. 
And it's Jesus who makes our small offerings–even fifteen minutes worth–enough.

- Theresa Miller, MOPS Mom

Theresa is a wife and mother of four children (3, 5, 7, and 9), who are embarking on their first year of homeschooling. Theresa has been involved in Sheridan MOPS for the last 9 ½ years, serving in multiple leadership positions, including Day MOPS Coordinator in 2007-2008. She took one year off, then started the Sheridan Evening MOPS group in September 2009. Theresa has published an article with MOPS International MOMSnext Ezine, in addition to other on-line publications. You can find Theresa encouraging mothers on her blog, Heavenly Glimpses.

Nudges

Have you felt the nudge of God today? Did His quiet voice ask you to kneel before a small child, look into her face and really listen?

Photo by Bethany Tippin

Did the movement of the wind in the trees blow a neighbor into your thoughts? Did you choose to walk by and say, “Hello”?

Christa Tietjen Photography

Have you known you should STOP what you’re doing and bow your head? Did you do it?

Did your tears fall, unhindered, as Jesus revealed a broken, hurtful situation? And did you recognize those tears as prayer? Your care and concern as incense rising?

Did you obey?

I’m asking because I had a friend obey the Spirit’s nudge this morning. I had a friend listen and respond. I witnessed the power of God’s touch through the hands and feet of a human right here on earth, right here in Sheridan, right here in MOPS.

It was just a hug. And yet it was so much more. It was a hug with the words, “I just felt like I was supposed to hug you.” And do you know what those words said to me? “My friend is listening. Wow. She’s in tune with the Holy Spirit. Right now, here, she’s dwelling in God.”

And the hug? It said, “I love you. I know what you lack. I heard your prayer, I heard you state your need and I am providing.”

Because, last night I sent a text that said, “I just need a hug.” A text. Silly. But, a truth. A statement to myself and another that I had a need. And God heard me. He prompted another believer to serve me in love and to serve Him in obedience. The result: a moment of wonder, awe and glory.

Over the course of my life, I know I have heard God’s still, small voice many times. I wish I could say I’ve responded promptly in obedience every time. But I haven’t. These sweet, sweet moments, however, where someone else’s obedience magnifies the power of the Holy Spirit and touches me intimately, these moments push me forward, move me onward, make me want to do a better job. They make me believe I will take the next bold, silly or seemingly trivial step that presents itself, in obedience. They remind me that we can all be unlikely sources of God’s provision.

Christa Tietjen Photography

“Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be the glory in the church, and in Jesus Christ to all generations, forever and ever.” – Ephesians 3:20-21 (NRSV, emphasis added)

- Bethany Tippin, MOPS Mom & Publicity Leader

Bethany Tippin is a wife and mother of 2 children, ages 3 and 5. She is a musician, teacher and writer. She joined MOPS very soon after moving to Sheridan and regularly finds blessing in her participation. This, her 6^th year, is her 1^st year in a leadership role. Serving as the 2013-2014 Publicity steering member is a joy and a challenge. She is massively excited about all the ways Christ is evidently moving in her life and community!

Thursday Thoughts with Theresa: "On Finding Joy in the Mess"

We strolled through the scent of fresh fallen rain at the pace of my first born, whose Dennis the Menace cowlick came just to my waist. My second born was tucked in the backpack weighing on my back.

As we meandered around some side streets, we found ourselves strolling down a dirt road covered in little potholes along the side, brimmed with fresh rain. Our slow walk turned into a stop­and­go as my toddler discovered the first puddle, stomped and splashed a while, then found the second puddle, and the third.

Enveloped in patience, I delighted in his playfulness a while, as I admired my own easiness before gently coaxing him along.

By that third puddle, that ease was challenged when my adventurer exclaimed, "Mommy! Do you want to splash with me?!"

"N...," was headed for my tongue and out of my mouth as I heard a gentle voice within say, "Why not?"

Scrambling for reasons, I looked down at my feet and, like a lens zooming in on the obvious, I saw bare feet in summer flip flops.

"Why not!" I exclaimed. And we splashed together in messy joy, puddle to puddle, all the way home.

Isn't that how the Holy Spirit works? Whether we are fully enveloped by the fruits of the Spirit or we barely hear that whisper of direction and counsel, when our natural inclination may be the very opposite; however the Spirit pours into our lives, our response to Him can take us to a whole new level of living – more patience, deeper joy, love with abandon, etc. – and we have the ability to pour directly into another person's life because of it. This is profound!

This is a Gift...

Because sometimes we don't want to jump in the puddles. We want to stay neat and clean and not be bothered. We'll walk along side someone as long as it doesn't get too messy. And we'll even pat ourselves on the back in our limited generosity because we, too often, allow our human nature to be our guide.

But love, which God is, through the power of the Holy Spirit, leads us a different way, a selfless way. And when we accept whatever that may look like, at whatever the cost, we find deeper meaning and purpose in these moments that add up to our life...

Because through the gift of the Spirit, we can always find joy in the mess.

So let us not forget “the gift “ as we walk this broken road full of potholes and muddy puddles. And let us not just play it safe and dodge the obstacles of life.

But may we jump in where the Spirit leads! May we allow him to guide and counsel us into the messes we were purposed to bring love, deliverance and joy through.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Galatians 5:22-23

- Theresa Miller, MOPS Mom

Theresa is a wife and mother of four children (3, 5, 7, and 9), who are embarking on their first year of homeschooling. Theresa has been involved in Sheridan MOPS for the last 9 ½ years, serving in multiple leadership positions, including Day MOPS Coordinator in 2007-2008. She took one year off, then started the Sheridan Evening MOPS group in September 2009. Theresa has published an article with MOPS International MOMSnext Ezine, in addition to other on-line publications. You can find Theresa encouraging mothers on her blog, Heavenly Glimpses.