When Life Feels Out of Order

A lot of people call her Romadene.

Others, Mrs. Preston.

And a few "mom."

But we grandkids?

We have always just called her “Mimi.”

And if you met her, she would instantly become your Mimi too.

She’s just that way. 

The teacher that everyone remembers from Elementary school? That’s my Mimi.

The casserole that empties the fastest at the church potluck? That was Mimi’s.

The fridge stocked with popsicles and Dr. Pepper? Mimi’s.

The woman that never had a hot meal because she was serving everyone else? The soprano, the white curly perm, the one calling everyone else “sweetie”?

All Mimi.

When my sisters and I were little grand-girls, we would all sleep on her living room floor during Christmas. She was the best pallet-maker ever, piling one blanket on top of the next. And then she would tuck us all in like little burritos.

But today she isn’t the same.

Her health is failing and mind is wandering.

Dementia has crept in like an unwanted guest, and though we have asked him to leave, he refuses.

I know she’s afraid. She’s confused.

She’s wondering why she can’t do things like she used to.

And it breaks my heart.

I miss who she used to be.

The roles have reversed.

Now we are making her the casseroles.

We stock her fridge with Dr. Pepper.

And the other night, instead of her tucking me in, I crept into her room and knelt down by her bed. 

I asked her if she was comfortable, told her how much I loved her and said, “Sweet dreams, my sweet Mimi.” Then I asked her if she wanted the door closed or open. “Open,” she said.

I used to like my door open too.

When roles reverse, the world just doesn’t feel right.
Life feels out of order.

It feels backwards, uncomfortable, like two left shoes.

Jesus understands role reversals really well. More than I ever will.

From Mountain Molder to mountain climber.

From Breath Giver to breath taker.

Star Placer to star gazer.

From God to man.

And then, on the cross, He went from sinless to sinful.

He took it all on – all my bitterness, all my selfishness, all my envy, all my sin.

And He took yours too.

This reversal has made some skeptical, others doubt.

It may seem backwards, uncomfortable, like two left shoes.

Yet, in this reversal, everything was made right.

The world met grace. The world met love. The world met God.

This role-reversal with my Mimi feels uncomfortable now, but what if God uses it to make something more right in me?

What if as I suffer through how backwards this feels, I move forward in understanding? 

Understanding more about the suffering Jesus endured to offer the biggest reversal ever made – 

my sin for His grace.

And understanding this love a little more, makes my heart a little more right.

We have been chatting about good in goodbye the past couple of months on the blog. 

Is there such a thing?

I think this is another good I have found lately.

That as I’ve said goodbye to who my mimi was (still praying for a miracle along the way).

As I tuck her in, instead of being tucked in.

The reversal makes me think of Jesus’ reversal that much more - what He gave so that I could have.

 “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21).

 (Are you going through a role-reversal these days or feel like things are a little backwards? If so, what are you learning through it? Comment below.)

My Computer Crashed ... And So Did I

(Any Good In Goodbye Continued...)

My computer crashed the other day.
And so did I.

I don't know what came over me.
But as soon as the screen froze and went dark, something dark came out of me.
I lost it. Completely lost it.
I began to cry thinking I had lost months worth of work and memories that I had never backed up on another hard drive.
But it was more than that.
Turns out, my melt down had more to do with pain and bitterness backed up in my heart than anything not backed up on a hard drive.

I began to slam kitchen cabinets, stomp around the living room, clang dishes.
Brett, my patient husband, looked at me and asked if I were alright.
I gave him the evil eye and screamed, "I'm going for a drive!"

Peeling out of the driveway, I couldn't even see out the window because of the tears.
I needed windshield wipers for my eyeballs.
Between my dramatic, animal-like yelps, snorts and gasps for air (I can be a pretty ugly cryer), I screamed at God.
It was some type of gibberish only He and I could understand.
It included a lot of " Why?!" and "Where are you?!"
After I pulled back into the driveway and calmed down, I wondered "what in the world just happened? Where did all of that come from?"

It took me a few mugs of coffee the next morning to realize that my crash was a result of weeks upon weeks of not being completely honest with God.
We have been chatting a little bit about seasons of goodbye. And to help us find the good in goodbye, I have been turning to some of my favorite verses in John 11.

In this chapter Jesus' close friends, Mary and Martha, say a tragic goodbye to their brother Lazarus who had just died.
When Jesus arrived on the scene Martha "went and met Him" And the  she says one of my favorite lines: "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.'"(11:20-21)I love that.

I love that there is no sugar coating her emotions, no polite "hello, how are you," no fake smile. Instead, before He even gets to her house, she runs to Him and lays it all on the table.
"If you had been there..."

During this season of goodbye, that's something I've thought a lot.
God, if you had only been there...
If you had...
But instead of being honest with God and sharing these thoughts, what did I do?
I kept busy, I kept emotionally tidy, I kept a distance from God.
And when I did talk to Him it wasn't sincere.
It wasn't my whole heart.It was formality, a have-to prayer, slivers of my heart that I didn't mind Him seeing.

But the truth was, I was hurting.
The truth was I blamed God for the hurt.
The truth was I didn't trust Him anymore, and this kept me from talking to Him honestly.

In our story, Martha teaches me a good lesson.
Be your true self with God, your whole self.
That might sound obvious, even dumb.
But sometimes I find myself hiding my true feelings from God.
And because I  hide my questions, my anger towards Him, my confusion, my doubt.Because I don't give Him all of me, then big parts of me are never healed.
They just sit, bottled up,  rotting in a corner.
And I thinks that's why I crashed that night, alongside my computer.
When we bottle up, we blow up.

But Martha didn't do this.Martha wasted no time. She ran to Jesus and was honest with her hurt.

When I finally did this that night in my car, something happened.
A weight was lifted. All the anger, confusion and hurt was released.
And by sharing my whole self, my true self, God began to restore the trust I had lost.
Why?

Because I was letting Him into every corner of my heart.
And when we surrender it all, He restores all.

I guess that's a 'good' I have discovered while walking through hard goodbyes.
We learn what being our true selves with God really means - not bottling up but instead sharing it all, our anger, mistrust, bitterness...
And as we do, our relationship with Him strengthens and our trust in Him deepens because we are inviting Him into every part of our heart.