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bonnieward
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Name: bonnie
Birthday: 9/12/1960
Gender: Female
Interests: growing in Jesus; spending time with people who like to laugh and find vulnerability adventuresome; music; learning new things; getting rid of hairless dead bunnies and trading in grave clothes for Christ-like character
Expertise: by God's grace, recovering from phariseeism;
enjoying the fun you create; going on adventures; putting your tax dollars to use by interaction with the police dept (and I've really not done anything wrong!)
Message: message me
Member Since:
7/7/2004
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| It may not have been a talking donkey but I did witness something yesterday that penetrated the numb layers of my stinkin' grey matter upstairs. You are probably as shocked as I am but I am relieved at the same time. This unchartered territory of unpredictable and unreasonable sadness has given me HUGE consternation over the past two weeks. It has been beyond uncomfortable and at times frightening. I couldn't figure myself out...not for anything and that lent towards further exasperation. I have wrestled to the point of exhaustion.
While in the Kaiser pharmacy waiting for a prescription (no, not a mental drug...which has, however, crossed my mind as a possible need lately), I observed a young boy with his older brother. The younger boy seemed to exhibit many autistic traits and I thought, "Wow! He has no idea how his head works and he doesn't even care...life is pretty okay, I guess, if you don't care about having to be 'normal'". I also thought, "Good thing God gets him because his brother sure isn't doing a good job!" Shortly after that thought, the big brother did something and set off this little guy. He was flailing all over, knocking items off the shelves, ramming into nearby customers waiting in chairs, and screaming at the upmost top of his lungs. HE WAS TOTALLY OUT OF CONTROL! The older brother ineffectively kept yelling, "Stop it!" to this little guy. People sat frozen in amazement. Soon the dad came running in, swooped up the tazmanian devil like a football, and carried him out. Except for the settling down cries of the boy from outside the waiting room, all else was quiet...and everyone looked pretty shocked . Psalm 139 came to mind and I was blown away that though that boy flail about out of control, God who knit him together in his mother's womb fully understood the wiring of his mind; however, this little boy may never begin to figure out why he does what he does so God in His sovereign plan gave him an earthly father that knew how to deal with him. Suddenly, I saw myself and all the frustration I have heehawed over the past two weeks. Though I am unable to comprehend the mechanical why's of all this deep emotion, God who created me, knit my innerds, and wired my unpredictable heart to this brain was more than familiar with it....He thoroughly understands it. Furthermore, it's all His and He is in charge and oversees my well being. I don't need to figure it out. I do need to trust His unfailing love for me and His ability to keep that which He has created. If the lawn mower's broken, I'm not going to take it to the doctor, dentist, or dry cleaners! No, I'll take it to the person who made it and has the wisdom to fix it! And, hello! He is big enough and strong enough to keep me safe when those bouts of intense sadness wham over me like a crashing wave! Yikes! what was I thinkin'? How did I slide back into the thinking that He's sitting on His throne waiting for me to get over it , get it together, and get back into real kingdom service. I also forgot the second beattitude ( as reminded by a friend yesterday) and that this comfort isn't a one time shot but rather for every time we mourn. I also forgot what our chief purpose is for being created (to glorify Him and enjoy Him forever). I knew that I was not thinking straight but it seemed as if I couldn't remember how to remember! I didn't believe it was possible to glorify God in the midst of the unreasonable chaos. I didn't have to figure it out; I merely needed to trust the Sovereign One who made me, sustains me, and lavishes every good thing I need (and more!) to not just survive but thrive. Whew! Gosh! Pharisees are so thick headed! As that earthly father knew how to handle his son in his uncontrollable rage, how much more does my heavenly Father know how best to comfort me when my heart breaks in grief? Oh my goodness! It was never intended for me to reconcile the unreasonable mess. Duh! If I need that understanding to move on then He surely will bless my mind with that wisdom.
Many of you have told me many words of encouragement the past week and I have argued with you and not received. I have been stiff-necked in my own foolish understanding...or lack of understanding. Boy! do I apologize to you all. When you see me, hold me to it. You were right and I was wrong. Just because something is not of the "norm" or familiar, doesn't negate God's Word. Yikes! Hello! Regardless and inspite of, His Word is accurate, applicable,and oh yes! sharper than the two-edged sword, cutting deep...even sharp enough for pharisetical hearts and God is faithful even when I am a flake. Man! I bet ya'all are relieved that I'm gonna stop ranting and raving about what's okay and what's not...sheesh! Forgive me for arguing and not submitting to His Word and not being receptive to your words of encouragement. I don't know what tomorrow will be like but I know He does so I'll trust in His strength and wisdom and appropriate His inhaler of grace when the waves pound the shores of my heart....pretty much a fail-proof remedy. | | |
| I think when Don was swallowed up by life (in Valerie terms ) , I think he hung onto my feet and took part of me with him. Even things in my own room remind me of him. It was so wonderful when I knew that he for sure would spend eternity in heaven...and still is. I remember totally thinking, "Oh, this will make it so much easier when he dies." But this ache in the heart is indescribable and irrational. Ya'all can tell me it's "normal" but it is not normal for me! It is not right that it can't be defined; everything has a definition and place. It really is like diarreah of the heart. So where's the spiritual "keopectate"? Not having to be home during the past two weeks was hectic but definitely a hidden blessing. In my mind I can hear him laugh, I can see him smile, I know his hug, I can smell his cologne and I think these are the very things that should bring back wonderful memories but they don't. They are like salt in a wound today. It seems like it would be better to not remember at all. I just miss him unreasonably. Is it just the weakness in our flesh that cripples us from celebrating? Is it a choice to sin by not forcing our mind to be joyful? If it is the latter then you wouldn't even be a very good pharisee because a good one would have control over the unacceptable emotion and convincingly fake it. I guess it would be easier if your heart just barfed it all out and got it over with rather than creeping up on you when you least expect it. I know this cloudy perspective robs us from enjoying all God's goodness and having a thankful attitude. It's all grey. This "sad" melarchy makes even a "joy" list seem out of reach. My head knows it though and I can remember things that I claim as joy. How does one climb out of a flushing toilet? Is it a disciplined choice? What is the ticket? I think I'd just about pay any price for one today. Tell me what you do to stop the sucking up of the whirlpool. I think, "Look up and see Jesus", so I do but I cannot force myself to rejoice yet in my mind I am thankful that He has prepared eternity for us, that Don is there, that we get to not only be with Jesus for eternity but also loved ones. Yikes. Here's the dumb psychosis part: I wish so bad I could sit and talk with Don just once more and hear his laughter and see his smiling eyes through those glasses but I would never wish life for him the way it was for anything or wish for him to leave the perfect communion of eternity with our Lord. How do those things reconcile? You can't have both worlds. I don't think it's a dead rabbit...at least I don't suspect one. Do you smell one? It doesn't seem like disobedience. And I have no regrets in my relationship or time with Don...that's not it. Maybe it's like drinking novacaine and you feel incapable of anything; like frozen or numb or paralyzed, unable to think through and reason things out. Maybe it's like a spoiled kingdom kid that can't have it all or have what she wants when she wants it. Or maybe it's just being too consumed with what I feel or think and I need a gigantic kick in the pants.Then it would be sin and you could sincerely repent and go on, right? Ugh....I don't like "sad". It is intrusive and reckless. It wears you out. Maybe I should just go hang at the throne and not leave til it's done. Yikes...I guess it is reassuring that He will help me know if it's flesh sin/wrong/tunnel vision/etc..and I am thankful that His grace covers my inability to honor Him as due with my heart response. UGH! | | |
| Don moved in to the mansion today. His transition was nothing but divinely orchestrated and peaceful. I'm sure Mark will share with ya'all and I am too tired to. It felt "outer limits" wierd to walk away from the hospital tonite. It feels even more foreign to be here doing this right now. I told Don today to look for Gabriel and Ting-aling-I know Don will enjoy them both. I wish I could have been there to see Don when he met Jesus face to face! What a marvelous homecoming! Being so new in Jesus, I am sure he had no idea what he was about to experience. I am so glad for him...really...but I am going to miss that buddy. Now he can begin to really live! | | |
| Ting-aling died today. No, not a rat or hairless rabbit. Just a nickname for a super soft skinned and an incredibly "God-fearing-100-and-some-year-old- Dutch" grandma of the Ziegenmeyers. Liz was so happy for her when she called to tell me. I was not. (She, Ting-aling, is Liz's grandma who I used to visit when in L.A. with the Ziegenmeyers). Liz said she told the nurse she didn't feel well, closed her eyes, and died. Wow! what a peaceful way to go. I gave her the name Ting-aling because she would sing little Dutch school songs to the great grandkids..in dutch and english! It was a highlight of every visit. One of the songs has a little school bell in it that rings (she sings,"ting-aling-aling-aling-aling-aling") and calls the children into the school house. She sang in a little dutch accent and it was delightful. Now she knows the summoning of heaven's roll call and she has answered, "Here!" Anyways, once again, I am reminded of how limited and precious our time here on earth is and to live in a way that leaves no regrets. If we know that something as simple as a note or phone call or 10 minute visit or hug or smile infuses a person's heart with God's love then we MUST make the time for it. During the past 3 years I did not write or visit Ting-aling. Now I must just remember til we are united in heaven. And that's okay but having regrets in the package rob from the rejoicing when He calls one home.
Who can we love today?
Teach me thy ways; teach me thy love; teach me thy giving without thinking of what will come in return; Jesus, I want to learn how to love as You do. | | |
| Sunday, many of you wanted to know how to pray. I answered, "For rest for Don." Both Friday and Saturday had been tough days although Saturday afternoon the barking subsided and Don enjoyed Mark's company (he always does). I let Don know all of you who sent their love and let him know the many names who said they were praying for him. He just looked sad and very tired. I told Don about the green pastures that Jesus leads us by and let him know many were praying for rest. I had only hummed two hymns and he was out...really out! No barking, no tears, no wincing of eyes, no crinkling of his forehead...he just rest. And I did too! For 4 1/2 hours! Even with the alarms going off, machines beeping, and people coming in and out. When he woke, Don mouthed the words, "I want to go home." Typically it's difficult for me to read his lips because he over-exaggerates each syllable and he gets very frustrated because I think of everything he's NOT saying before I get it right. But not this time...it was very clear: "I want to go home."
It is so difficult to watch him plea this request yet remain a prisoner to his physically miserable state. Many have already been praying this for him and I've assured him that we all want what he wants. The nurse naively reminded him that he was not going home and that he would be in the hospital until he got off the ventilator. Don shook his head no. I told her that he meant his other home...in eternity and Don closed his eyes.
It's interesting how many times he reminds me of a little infant: totally dependent, incapable of communicating what he wants, at the mercy of that particular nurse's mood or bedside manner, etc... When he smiles, it is the delight of my day. It is so purely precious, I almost can't stand it. When I do understand what he wants, I am so excited for both of us. When he is calmed, I am so relieved for those moments that he has to regain strength. I know that the macho private man inside of him struggles to need anything from us and sometimes he is embarrassed but that smile...it is something else!
Normally, I would be very embarrassed by my "way-out-of-control-fall-apart" in church on Sunday. If anyone felt uncomfortable, I am sorry. I thought I was AOK and had even slept in my own bed the night before.I thought I had convinced myself on the way to church that I was fine and good...until Germaine laid his hug on me!! After talking with a friend today, it no longer mattered (well, not so much anyways- not to the point of not coming next week because of it or for fear that it may happen again). I was helped to realize that perhaps I felt so uncomfortable because it was "taking a risk" with ya'all (at least those in ear shot). I'm sayin', "Yeah, hello! what do they think now?" So I re-listened to Sunday's message. Then I listened again and something way random and remote inside said, "If this really IS who you are to call your family, your community, then what could be so bad about them knowing that this whole rollercoaster ride is really hard, sad, and scarey? What would I tell someone else who blubbered so bad that their lungs had those suck in hiccups, contorted pilate face, and inability to talk?" Hmm...well, I know that I would just hang with them. Then I forced myself to think through if it would make me think any less of them. I had to answer no. So, there it was: another dead hairless rabbit rotting not just in my pocket, not just around my neck, but a big, stinky one strangling my heart guarded by fear of not keeping life "together". I think it was the biggest one so far...yeah! a huge lopped-ear fat rabbit..no fur...dead...rotting...sick...gross! I bet there were even maggots inhabiting it! Well, even if you aren't ready to accept that you too have dead bunnies that need to exit, you will agree that emabarrassment is merely pride which obviously is the opposite of humility. And as a recovering Pharisee, I can tell you that our little robes of "seemingly perfection" are woven from and in pride. No matter how you interpret it, we know that pride is a negative. We are told in Corinthians that if we are going to boast in anything then we most GLADLY boast in our weaknesses. Okay, little Hope Chapel family, there you have it: Bonnie is weak and incapable of even dealing with this whole roommate thing alone..even just Jesus and me. It's too hard! And this whole thing of not crying around you, well, I think it really is a rabbit and is one of the enemy's tactics to deter the "v" word- vulnerability and the "r t" phrase- taking risks. Yikes! do I want ya'all as community? Hmm..it does seem scarey. What would be the alternative? To spend another decade growing alone in Christ and hold most of you at arms distance? Or would God's plan of journeying together (being who He created me to be) not only make the burden lighter but also be a heck of alot easier expending energy in an healthy way rather than using all of it to keep myself together? So what is it going to be? Keep my heart pharisetically protected by a rotten stench (which does keep everyone away) or hand it over to Jesus and allow you to know what makes Miss B tick and how God has her wired? Shall I continue to trust in myself to protect my heart and hold it all together (which I'm obviously not doing well) or trust God that He knew what He was doing when He created me and knew exactly what I needed in a family when He placed me in Hope Chapel Citrus Heights? Gee, shall we take a poll? He doesn't seem to have struggled with His choice to invest in my soul when He paid the price for it on the cross. His risky investment in me cost Him His life. My risk involves, at the worst, maybe some misperceptions on other's part and the death to pride on mine...that's no where near His suffering and death on the cross. And He says, "You're worth it because I love you and want you to live and live life to the full." Okay...okay....okay. For the joy set before Him... More than okay...sigh okay. So, I hand over this stinky bunbun and say that I am ready to community-ize with ya'all. This really will be an adventure and I do like adventures- especially when they turn out safe. And you might have to quietly (not in a huge group setting) remind me if you see me reaching for the old furless carcus who's poison keeps you and I from enjoying the full life and rich fellowship that He intends for us as family...as community...as a "church that does take risks". (Wow! don't you get goosebumps like right before you know someone is going to jump out and boo you but they haven't done it yet? Whoohoo!).
Ah ha! I can just hear the Eeyores now! They are a little freaked because there is no "safe" guarantee; we are, after all, just fleshly humans growing in the likeness of Christ fully capable of biting and devouring one another, laughing at the expense of one another, or worse yet, judging one another. But we can choose to extend that grace to one another and in love spur on each other. We can...if we choose. And I suppose there will always be those that choose not His grace but I got a big hunch from God's track record and faithfulness that even if we all had only a small handful of family who does choose grace that this would be more than enough for learning to take risks. Count me in. And don't let me wrap up in that rabbit ever again. That rabbit cost Him His life, keeps me from really knowing you, and really keeps you from knowing me. | | |
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