A Very Important, Unimportant List

Today was not my typical day, although I often wonder what IS a typical day anymore.  I woke up earlier than I had to.  I made 3 pans of pumpkin bars by 9am.  One by one, each of my walking littles appeared.  They were drawn into the kitchen by the unusual activity and aroma--clearly perplexed that their very NON-morning mama was not ONLY awake, but productive.

"Wanna lick a beater?"  I asked when they looked at me as if I had gone mad. 

One of them noticed the bowl, after already licking her beater, and I didn't even wait for the obvious question.  Those big, brown eyes had already asked for her.  So I handed her the bowl with a large spoon full of batter.  Why not? 

I headed for the treadmill to try and squeeze in a few minutes of pretending like I was a runner before I had to get ready.  The clock was ticking down.  Never mind.  Exercising can wait until tomorrow.  I hopped in the shower instead.  That decision would give me enough time to lay on the floor and be a human jungle gym for my littlest guy before I left. 

Coffee?  Well it was made, but I actually skipped that as well.  I know.  That was a dangerous move for everyone in the household!  But even coffee had to be a back-burner priority this morning.  The kids definitely knew I was up to something.  Mom in make-up AND a skirt this early in the day?  It wasn't even Sunday! 

I don't often leave my kids to do much other than what is absolutely critical to either 1.) their well-being or 2.) my sanity.  But today was a little different. 

Today, I was going to celebrate Helen. 

Who's Helen you might ask?  That's a good question.  And after today, I feel like I know a lot more about Helen than I ever have.  And it's not because I met Helen for coffee this morning.  No, no.  Helen is having her coffee today with Jesus.  That is why two of the three pans of pumpkin bars took a trip with me to a very special memorial service...for a woman I really didn't know that well, a woman I just met less than two years ago, a woman I only had a handful of conversations with. 

And there's so much to say, but I think I'll jump to the end first.  Because on the drive home I had 20 minutes to myself to think through all the things that made this service special today...AND all of the things that were missing.  Hang with me here.  But it's true.  I don't know this family very well, they seem incredibly sweet.  But they forgot a few details.  Most memorial services do.  So I decided that tonight after my littles go to bed that I would make a list of what was missing.  Because it's a pretty important list.  So here goes...


1.  Her stuff.  For example, there wasn't one picture of any of her houses she had lived in.  Not one.  They forgot to show her well-organized closets or lack there-of.  There wasn't a shot of what things looked like on her messiest days, but there also wasn't a shot of one of her Martha Stewart days either.  Funny how this didn't come up in any of the fondest memories her family shared.  Come to think of it, I don't know what she drove.  Was it an expensive, flashy car or an old beater?   Her clothes...Saks 5th or Goodwill?  Hummm... 

2.  Her skills.  On a fly-by, I got the impression this little lady was pretty smart.  Most gals who go back for a masters degree and teach history in college are.  But it was only mentioned in the context of her relationships, like as if a side-note and not her identity.  I'm guessing someone could've put pictures of her transcripts or degrees or something like that in the slide show, but that didn't make the cut either.

3.  I think Helen was a little past the social media age.  But let's say for the sake of argument that social media was her thing.  So what about that most-liked facebook post?  Her best instagram selfie?  That hilarious home video that happened to go viral?  Somehow, I don't think these would have been a part of her service today. 

4.  Her physical appearance and diet.  Nope, not mentioned once.  Did she obsess over eating organic or was she a meat-and-potatoes gal?  I have no idea.  Did she loathe her hips or spend hours at the gym trying to fix some other problem area?   I don't know.  I don't have a clue as to what range of numbers she saw on her bathroom scale over the course of her lifetime.  Her kids didn't mention it.  And there were 4 of them!  Surely that meant there were plenty of weight fluctuations and stretch marks.  But no report on how long it took her to lose that baby weight.  Here were the people that mattered the most in her life, her family and friends, and not a single word on the one area that most women OBSESS over!  Huh...

5.  Money.  No bank statements.  No investment reports.  Did she balance her checkbook well or was she an over-spender?  While I think I know the answer to that last question for Helen, I do find it interesting that money--whether one has a little or a lot--is never talked about at funerals.  Generosity?  Yes.  Sacrifice?  Absolutely.  But not dollars and cents--the thing so many in this life seem to slave for. Not a word.  Zilch.  Nada.

So that was as far as I made it in my list when I pulled into my driveway.  But I'm sure there are plenty of other things that could have been added.  Things that if we were honest with ourselves, take up quite a bit of space and time and effort in our lives--maybe too much.

Someone at Helen's service read a poem about the dash.  You may have heard it before.  It's the dash on the gravestone that ties the date of birth to the date of death.  The point of the poem is that a person's life is in the dash.  Now I believe that life doesn't end at death here on earth.  I believe a soul is eternal and that Helen, today, is somewhere wonderful.  But that doesn't negate the power of the life lived in the dash here on earth.  What we think, say, and do DOES have an impact--good or bad--whether we like it or not.  Helen's husband, children, grandchildren, friends and many others attested to that truth today. 

Now don't get me wrong.  We can't just chuck my list.  Many of the things listed are tools that God intends us to use to live this life and live this life well--while intentionally blessing others He puts in our path along the way.  But sometimes these tools become our passions and identities and even harsh measuring sticks by which we judge others.  And what's sad is when a life is lived this way, people show up at that funeral and don't have much to say.  Because if a life's accomplishments amounted to a fat wallet, a trim body and a clean house, no one will talk about that at a funeral.  They just won't.  Because those things in and of themselves are empty.  And more importantly, they took up the precious space that should have been used for what is truly important. 

And we all should know what that is, or more accurately, the who's they are.

So let me get back to Helen.  I could spend a lot of this post re-telling what I learned about her life.  And I'm pretty confident that the things on my list were NOT the focus of her life.  Because if they were, they would've edged out what things clearly were important to her, as evidenced by the people who loved her and spoke of her today--the fruit they experienced from her life well-lived.

There was one thing that stood out as the main thing.  RELATIONSHIP. 

A daughter who spoke of her mom today as her ultimate best friend.  A husband who wrote of a marriage love that clearly was sacrificial, affectionate, and committed through the highs and lows that the years inevitably bring.  Grandchildren--every single one--who got up to share something from their hearts because of their love for their grandmother. 

And the center of it all--Jesus.  This spunky little lady knew Him and loved Him--and she is with Him today.  And it is why in the midst of all the tears this morning, I found joy.  And I was inspired. 

A life, when stripped of everything this world says is important, and even stripped of her last breath here on earth, stood glorious and beautiful.  She used her life, and all that it contained, to love others well.  No denying it today. The fruit of her life was evident.  And it was a display of God's love, a LOVE that uses broken, ordinary people and turns it into something extraordinary.

I'm coming up on a milestone birthday.  You know the one where you turn 39 for the second year in a row?  Yup.  That one.  Just days away.  I won't lie and say I'm all thrilled about that.  In fact, looking into this next year feels pretty overwhelming on many levels.

But today, things became crystal clear again.  Funerals and significant loss have a way of doing that.

So I'm not going to get stuck in all the things on this list I made.  I'm just not.  My time, my energy, and my resources would be wasted on things that don't matter--or last--if I did.  This world is a hurting place.  Seeing children being decapitated an ocean away as I write this should be a reminder to all of us that this isn't a game about who gets the most toys or comforts in this life.  Those who win that game actually lose, and so does everyone around them.

This mama has a mission to accomplish.  And so do you, if you are still breathing.  Mine begins in my home, with a teenager to send to school tomorrow, a baby to patch, and 5 middles in between who need their souls loved and engaged everyday.  And while it should begin there, it doesn't end there--it SHOULDN'T end there.

Overwhelming?  Sure.  But God's got that part.  He always has.  The question is, will you and I step out in faith and let Him?

So thank you, Helen.  I loved you the moment I met you so many months ago when you pulled me aside in your wheel chair to tell me you liked me and thought I had some interesting things to say.  Who wouldn't love you with that kind of encouragement?  But the legacy you leave and the clarity it brings me was a priceless gift today.  I am truly grateful.  May you dance with Jesus, forever.

     Love one another.  In the same way I have loved you, you love one another.  This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples--when they see the love you have for each other.  John 13:34-35 The Message