A Fellow Traveller

Some of you saw this poster when you came to Mom's memorial service or visited with us prior.  These were the exact words we found in the folder with her plans and wishes; her message to family and friends. Death is part of living -  Living with Jesus in my life each day Then when God says so, I'm ready to take His hand and go with Him to heaven to live there forever. When you hear that I'm dead, know that I'm more alive than ever before. I'll have a new body with new feet, spine and lungs. So don't be sad, but rejoice! I've made it home to be with Jesus! Forever! With NO MORE PAIN! There are elements of this message I'm still processing, like the first part.  How can death be part of living?  Is this the living we do with memories of death and those we sorely miss? How can dying be a part of living with Jesus? Did Mom have to die to the desire to be pain-free and trust Jesus with the pain? Did the Prince of Peace have more

Doctor,  Mom trusted you.  She felt that you were worthy to receive that trust as her doctor at the end of her life. Jesus,  Mom trusted you.  She felt you were worthy to receive that trust as her Saviour throughout her life. Doctor,  We saw the deep level of understanding you had for Mom's wishes and desires.  With respect, you continued to ask what measures she wanted to take next, right to the end. Jesus,  We saw a deep level of faith in our Mom as she repeatedly clung to your promises in Scripture.  You never let her down, faithful right to the end. Doctor,  Mom knew better than us what the final stages of this disease would be like.  Wanting to protect Dad, we knew she didn't want to die at home.  We know you must have worked behind the scenes so "that meeting" never ever took place.  Mom never had to entrust herself to another doctor and for that we are grateful. Jesus,  You knew better than all of us how the gift of your peace would carry Mom th

Silent night, holy night The world is sleeping Unaware that God has arrived Unaware that the holiness of heaven is resting in a newborn baby The world is sleeping Unaware that God is calling home one of his beloved daughters resting in a hospital bed All is calm, all is bright There is the calmness of rest after the labouring of birth There is a brightness and soft glow of muted light in a dark stable There is the calmness of rest after the labouring of death There is the brightness and soft glow of muted light in a darkened hospital room Round yon virgin mother and child A virgin mother is enjoying her child This gift of God's presence that was birthed through her A beloved mother is surrounded by her children This gift of God's presence lived out through a surrendered life to Him Holy infant so tender and mild This precious infant in gentleness and quiet strength The holy Son of God joining humanity at the b

Mom was moved to a lovely palliative care room right beside the elevator.  The nurses wondered if there was some confusion....the angry words.....confusion about time.....saying that her mind was swirling. We hoped for a better day to come. Yesterday I spent the afternoon, listening to stories, to dreams, to the ideas swirling in her head,  feeling privileged  to jot down some of her words. We started telling this story to visitors stopping by. She was angry about the move, how the flowers were left behind on the window sill, how her things were not in the same place, how she couldn't reach the call bell.  She took it out on the nurses, even though they were taking care of details as fast as they could.  Most of her time that day, she said, was spent working on words for the hospital CEO.  She wanted to give him a piece of her mind, venting about how things were being run around the place. In her minds eye, he was sitting in HER office; she in a big chair of power, him in

Waiting, we sit and wait. Watching for a way to show our love. I look for how to serve and meet a need, when to give a sip of water, a spoonful of food, to move the flowers, adjust the pillows, to read a note, share a conversation. She waits to say "I love you" to those nearest and dearest. Watching for a way to show our love. Waiting, we sit and wait. Listening for what is coming next, for the meal cart the doctor to visit, a nurse to wash up I listen for a request, a memory, a reflection, a familiar voice. Listening for what is coming next. Waiting, we sit and wait, Listening to peaceful music, hearing words of comfort and assurance from hymns and carols, tuning in to the underlying promises of Presence, Listening to peaceful music. Waiting, we sit and wait, Breathing and praying, Praying and breathing. Out with the carbon dioxide, in with the precious oxygen Out with the old, in with the new Out with resistance, in with acceptance Out with

East Main Tunnel under Welland Canal Admiring the beauty in the sky above, I captured this scene on my phone Thanksgiving weekend.  I was drawn to the blueness of the sky trying to peek through the fluffy clouds.  Though the clouds threatened rain, the sun still shone through and I felt at peace. We entered the tunnel and soon emerged to continue our journey.  I had no thought at the time of the weight from the waters overhead, of how impossible it would be to pass through on my own.  The tunnel in it's stable construction did its job and I gave it no second thought. Last Sunday though, we each entered our own tunnel and are still living in it's shadow. The sudden darkness of grieving has begun, as I realize the implications of  the disease pulmonary fibrosis.  With such gradual change in Mom's lungs since her diagnosis over six years ago, I've glossed over the final stage. I have to stop pretending. There's no turning away now. Death is inevitable; we ju

Early this Sunday morning the phone rang at 3:30 a.m.  My sister heard phrases like ".....hospital calling,  doing rounds to Room 204.....saw she was not breathing....did CPR but unsuccessful....she is deceased......calling you as next of kin....." As she phoned me, we quickly divided who was calling who. I woke my girls and we cried together.  I called my other children as my husband drove through the darkness, leaving messages when I couldn't get through. It seemed surreal as I looked up at the clouds swirling around the moon. Amid my tears I could only feel peace that Mom was now free from her suffering.  I remembered the joys of the day before....of reconciliation and peacemaking with her grand daughters....of my Mom seeing her great grandchildren for the very first time.  Within the hour, I was the first of my siblings to be walking down the hall to the nurses station. They were shocked to hear why we were there. "What???  She is sleeping well.  Come look&q

Step by step, moment by moment, I will slow down to listen, to be loved. Step by step, moment by moment, I will take time to breathe, to rest in that love. You are Powerful and Great, a Rock for the weak I will cling for support, strength and security You are Gracious and Compassionate towards all you have made I will love myself, listening to feelings and needs You are Slow to Anger, Rich in love I will wait to respond rather than react You are Good to all your creation I will choose to see the good in everyone You are Trustworthy and Faithful to all promises made I will speak words of truth and integrity You are a bountiful Provider to those who look to you I will trust you to perfectly provide, creatively putting the pieces together You Open your hands and Satisfy desires I will hold people and things loosely as gifts from you You are Near to all who call out for rescue I will ask with boldness and confidence Step by step,

clipart from weddings.lovetoknow.com Two brides, both in their twenties, waiting to see their bridegrooms, two continents apart with entirely different circumstances, both are finally face to face on the same day with their groom. One bride waits because she married a foreigner and is suddenly barred from entering the United States from Canada.  The other is the bride of Christ, waiting as cancer shuts down her earthly body, till her spirit can fly to the heavenly kingdom. Families in both situations storm heaven’s gates, asking for a miracle.  Many tears are shed but both wait with hearts of acceptance, knowing things are beyond their control.  Both brides experience the emotional tearing of leaving family, yet know that greater things are ahead…..eventually! Pledges of commitment were spoken in front of a joyous audience of family and friends, one at a wedding and the other at a baptism years ago.  A seal of that commitment for one was a ring, for the other the presen

A writing prompt was given to me by Rebel Diaries, a community I've joined for the next 10 weeks.  With pen in hand, I asked myself THE question, "Who am I?" My growing list of self-identity statements dragged on past mother, wife, teacher and friend to writer, encourager and listener.  Before long it included things like dreamer, searcher and rebel of status quo.  I also had to include victim, rescuer and protector.  I was past forty on my list before adding leader, follower and thinker.  Is this mess of complexity really who I am? I started another list - Who am I in Christ?  Adopted by God, wildly loved and forgiven topped my list.  It grew to include righteous, alive in Jesus and the apple of God's eye.  Masterpiece, pleasing to God and transformed made me catch my breath.  Did I really believe all that was on this second list? I woke in the night with anxious thoughts swirling once again.  The antidote for elusive sleep turned out to be a phrase from a song

This was written by my mom a few years ago, to be shared at their 50th Wedding Anniversary celebration with family and friends.  She has been sharing copies with friends ever since until now the print copies are gone.  Thinking that it might be easier to share digitally, I add it now to my own stories, told in the voice of Mary Sider. Stones of Remembrance BACKGROUND                 The Bible study class at church was studying the book of Joshua and we were reading the story of the people miraculously crossing the Jordan River.  After getting across safely, God told the leaders to pick twelve stones out of the river.  They were to carry them to the other side to build a memorial to God.  Joshua told them, “When your children ask, ‘What do these stones mean?’ you are to tell them what God did so amazingly to get the people across the river.”                 As I reflected on this story, I felt that Neale and I should build a “memorial monument” to remember God’s wonderf

I want to thank you for maintaining the clarion bells that chime from your bell tower. It was Tuesday March 11 at five p.m.  My husband and I had spent the day as tourists in Old Town, St. Augustine.  I had a tea in my hand, he a coffee and we were relaxing in the square across the street beside the cannon. After the five hour chimes, bells started filling the air with praise, continuing for a full half hour. Come thou fount of every blessing.......Blest be the tie.....old hymns of faith from ages past. I knew most of the words and my heart soared as I worshipped. I felt as an island in the middle of the hub-bub around me but that seemed not to matter. The Harley's were steadily pulling out of town and my husband was busy admiring each group.  The trolley tours were clanging past so no one could even hear the chimes, just the talk from the tour guides. The horse and carriage came by but not a mention was made other than this being one of many churches in the area. I saw one wom