Go Beyond

   On June 7, 2008, our family suffered the loss of my two-year old nephew. In the space of just a minute, Clinton Ryan innocently wandered off and accidentally drowned in a pond. I performed Clinton Ryan’s funeral service a few days later. In the midst of unimaginable pain, my niece Reecie and her family made the decision to donate Clinton’s organs so that others could be blessed. And, in the days following his death, Reecie wrote the poem posted below. After my Mom’s death, a friend sent me a card that said, “Death leaves a heartache that no one can heal. Love leaves a memory that no one can steal.” Memories are precious. I have discovered that writing about those memories is one important part of the grieving process. Below is the poem Reecie wrote, a poem filled with a mother’s memories and unfulfilled hopes for her baby boy.

If I Had Just One More Day with You!
by Reecie Miller

I remember watching you sleep at night,
praying the angels would guard you tight.
I hoped and dreamed for your life to be
filled with more than my eyes could see.

I had no idea
that we had few moments to share,
that you would leave my arms
and return to God’s care!

How my heart aches
to hold you once more,
to hear you say, “Mama”
and watch you run to the door.

If God would grant me
just one more day with you,
these are the things
I would want us to do!

I would gently wake you up
and run my fingers through your hair,
whispering, “good morning, handsome!
Mommy’s right here!”

We would play peek-a-boo
with the sheets,
then I’d kiss you all over
and pinch your sweet cheeks!

We’d go swimming in the pool,
like we always would do,
but today we’d stay a little longer—
a little longer than we should!

I would let you run through the house naked,
and I would laugh while you ran,
then I would pick you back up
and want to do it all again!

Life is too short
to worry about all the small things.
Time is way more precious—
more precious than it seems!

As our day would draw closer
to the very end,
I would beg God for an extension
to do it all over again!

I would remind you how much you are loved,
and that Heaven is not really that far,
that forever you will live
and be in my heart!

We would stand outside
and pick your very own star—
the star that will guide me,
when my life seems lonely and hard!

I’d kiss you one more time,
before having to let go,
and sing to you softly
as we waited for the Lord.

When the time would come,
and God would hold out his hand,
I would lovingly give you
right back to Him.

You were always His,
just mine for a while,
forever etched
is your precious smile!

I know that we cannot
negotiate for more time,
but two years wasn’t enough
for you to be mine.

Are you up there in heaven,
sitting on Jesus’ knee?
Are you peeking through the clouds,
watching over me?

Do you see me when I’m smiling?
Do you watch me wipe my tears?
Do you know how much
I still wish you were here?

Know that I Love You!
I will see you again, soon!
My work here on earth
is not quite through!

I promise to make you proud!
Your legacy will live on!
See you soon, handsome.
Love forever, Mom.

• • • • •

PS| Please read Clinton’s Eyes — the top read post on my blog — to read the letter Reecie wrote to the recipient of Clinton’s eyes.

   This is my third installment of reflections on my beautiful Mom. I have so many sweet memories that I could fill a book. In the future I will occasionally write more lessons I learned from Mom. Thanks so much to each of you who sent flowers and plants. These beautiful arrangements were like a sweet embrace around my beautiful Mom. And thank you for all of your cards and e-mail condolences. I came home to find my desk covered with sympathy cards, each with beautiful expressions of support. And, I have been blessed and encouraged by e-mails and phone calls from around the world. Your kind condolences and thoughtful expressions have comforted me and my family more than I can tell you. I hope you enjoy these final (for the time being) thoughts about my beautiful Mom.

Mom’s Missions | Long before Rick Warren wrote his best-seller, “The Purpose Driven Life,” Mom modeled a purpose-driven life. After all of her kids left home, Mom prayed and asked God to give her specific missions to accomplish for Him. She did not want to allow all of the energy she had invested in raising her kids to go to waste. So, she pursued a new career as a home health care worker and loved every moment. Every time we talked she would tell me about those for whom she cared and how much she loved them — especially a little boy named Hunter Patton who absolutely captured her heart. She would give me Hunter updates and prayer requests every time we’d talk. Mom lived the rest of her life seeking and accomplishing these missions from God. She was Jesus with skin on as she cared for children with special needs, aging parents, friends, and neighbors. I should have known that she sensed the end was near when a few months ago she told me that she felt she had completed the last mission God had assigned her.

Lesson Learned: Mom understood that a purpose-driven life is a well-lived life. She loved God and expressed that love by serving others. She understood that the best antidote to feeling sorry for yourself is to get the focus off of yourself. It’s hard to whine and complain about your own aches and pains when you are helping to alleviate the hurts of others.

Mom’s Bible | I had the precious privilege of spending a few days with Mom and Dad last month before I flew to Kashmir. Before I left, Mom told me that she wanted to be buried with her Bible — a request that we have honored. Hunter’s family had given her the Bible years ago and it became her favorite Bible. Before turning Mom’s Bible over to the funeral home, I spent hours looking through it and was blessed by what I found. Mom had noted each of my international trips and the dates of those trips next to passages of Scripture that she was praying for me. I always knew that she was praying for my safety and success, but I never knew that she was recording these things in her Bible. It’s no wonder that I have survived so many occasions when I have been in danger in remote locations around the world. She kept me tethered to safety by her prayers. She had also noted the dates I had called home from overseas and initialed these notes with the letters TYL — Thank You Lord. In fact, passages throughout her Bible were marked TYL. She was always so grateful to God for His blessings and never missed expressing her gratitude to Him for even the smallest blessing.

Lesson Learned: Mom understood that God’s Word and promises are true. She trusted God for the welfare of each of her kids and bombarded heaven with prayers on our behalf. I’ve always known the Devil was evil, but I did not realize how stupid he was until he tried to mess with Mom’s kids. Her prayers for us and her trust in God’s promises shielded us from so many things that could have harmed us.

Mom’s Heartbeat | In addition to beating for her family, Mom’s heart beat for the least of these. She would bless people begging on the streets, visited people in hospitals and nursing homes who did not have others to care for them, and opened her heart and home to everyone in the neighborhood. At Mom’s funeral, I met kids who had adopted Mom and Dad as surrogate grandparents. Mom especially loved the work of my friends Jerry and Susan Smith in Mongolia. Jerry and Susan care for orphaned, abandoned, and abused kids. Mom was absolutely amazed by their work and was one of their key prayer warriors. And, earlier this year when I volunteered at Mother Teresa’s homes for the destitute and dying in Kolkata, Mom wept when I told her about my experiences. She always encouraged me to invest and pour myself out for the least of these because these were the people who were so important to Jesus.

A couple of years ago I introduced Mom and Dad to my friend Mary Lee, one of Kingsland’s urban ministry partners. We delivered food to Mary, the founder of Something Blessed, a ministry to mentally challenged (formerly) homeless adults. Mom and Mary formed a fast friendship. Every time I went home for a visit she would load me down with supplies for Mary and her ministry. Ironically, Mary is currently battling cancer. Mom loved Mary and prayed for her ministry to the least of these.

After I visited the displacement camps in Darfur in 2003, I gave Mom some photos from that trip. One photo in particular touched her heart. It was a photo of a little boy wearing mismatched and oversized flip-flops to protect his feet from the sands heated by burning temperatures. She framed this photo and kept it on her reading table. She said that, to her, the little boy in the photo represented oppressed and hurting people. So, she framed the photo and kept it near to remind her to pray daily for the least fortunate around the world.

Lesson Learned: Mom’s heart beat with concern for the welfare of the most vulnerable members of society — children in need, children and people with special needs, widows and orphans, and the least of these. I will continue to honor her concern for the least of these for as long as I live.

A God Wink | My family and I have been so blessed to have so many friends, neighbors, and relatives stop by the house since Mom passed away. On Sunday, the day after Mom died, I sat in a chair looking down the hallway, wishing for one more opportunity to see Mom walk down the hall to greet me and to talk. I was so overcome by emotion that I excused myself and went to her little reading area next to Dad’s office. I stood there alone and wept, telling God that I just wanted to hear Mom’s voice again. At that moment I looked over at a stack of books that Mom had been reading and noticed one book in particular that had a page book-marked. I picked it up and when I read what was on the page my jaw dropped. It was, without question, a God wink and a divine hug! Here is what Mom had marked on the page of that book. It was a poem entitled…

The Watcher
by Margaret Widdemer

She always leaned to watch for us,
Anxious if we were late,
In winter by the window,
In summer by the gate;

And though we mocked her tenderly,
Who had such foolish care,
The long way home would seem more safe
Because she waited there.

Her thoughts were all so full of us,
She never could forget!
And so I think that where she is
She must be watching yet,

Waiting till we come home to her,
Anxious if we are late —
Watching from Heaven’s window,
Leaning from Heaven’s gate.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Mom had marked the page with this poem and that I noticed the book at the exact moment when my heart was aching to hear her voice once again. So, thanks for watching and waiting Mom. I love you and will see you again.

• • • • •

PS | If you have not already done so, please take a moment to read my first two posts on Mom — My Beautiful Mom | A and My Beautiful Mom | B.

   My beautiful Mom, Frances, passed away on May 30 after a brief but courageous battle with cancer. She was a gift from God and I am so grateful for all that she did to give me and my siblings the best childhood imaginable. She was a living example of a Proverbs 31 woman and made our home the most affirming, stable, and encouraging place in the world. She did not have a cookie-cutter approach to parenting but instead fine-tuned her parenting to best guide each of her children. She carefully monitored the people and things that touched our lives because she understood the power of influence. She kept the lines of communication open so that we would feel comfortable talking with her about anything that concerned us. She was the most beautiful and amazing woman in the world to me. This is my second installment of childhood reflections and lessons I learned from Mom.

Sleeping Bag | Mom enrolled me in Cub Scouts when I was in grade school and helped me work through all of my badges. Later, I was excited to join the Boy Scout because Boy Scouts went on camp-outs. When our troop announced our first camp-out I learned that I needed a sleeping bag. Now, sleeping bags were expensive and a luxury that a family with five kids could not afford. So, Mom called her Mom and together they came up with a solution. They went to Sears and looked at the sleeping bags at the store. But, instead of buying a sleeping bag, which we could not afford, they decided to make me a sleeping bag. My Mom and Grandmother gathered material left over from their sewing projects and made me a sleeping bag in time for my first camp-out. And Mom did this without hurting the family budget. It was a pretty cool-looking and functional sleeping bag. I was never embarrassed to be the only scout in my troop to have a home-made sleeping bag. In fact, I used that sleeping bag through all of my years in Scouting.

Lesson Learned: Mom was resourceful and always found a way to help us. She did not depend on credit cards or rob Peter to pay Paul. She was imaginative and creative and used items we already had to meet unexpected needs.

Trash Day | One Saturday morning while I was watching cartoons, Mom asked me why I had not taken out the trash. I told her that I would do it later. Mom seized on this teachable moment and told me that I needed to show some initiative. “Initiative,” she said, “will help you succeed in life.” I didn’t know the meaning of the word so I asked her, “What’s initiative?” Mom answered in terms I could understand: “Initiative is taking the trash out before you have to be told to do so.” To this day, that is how I remember what the word initiative means. I thought a lot about what Mom had said and determined to start noticing things that needed to be done around the house and doing them before she had to ask me.

Lesson Learned: Mom knew how to communicate important lessons in terms I could understand. She wanted for her children to do the right things and to do kind things for others without having to be told to do so. She encouraged us to look for things that needed to be done and to take the initiative to do them.

The “F” Word | When I was in the fourth grade I heard the big bad “F” word at school for the first time. I did not know what this word meant, but when I got home I used it in a sentence. Mom was in the kitchen and whirled around and looked at me with a totally shocked expression. But, instead of washing my mouth out with soap or spanking me, she looked me in the eyes and calmly asked me where I had learned the word. I told her that I had learned it from my friend Tommy who lived on the next block. “Do you know what this word means,” she calmly asked. “No,” I replied. So she explained to me that this was a word that I should never use again in public or private and why I should not use it. Then she told me to get in the car and we drove to Tommy’s house. Mom spoke to Tommy’s mother about the new word her son had taught me. I don’t know about Tommy, but I did not use that word again and hate the word to this day.

Lesson Learned: Mom understood the value of a good explanation. Instead of punishing me for using a bad word that I did not understand, she helped me to understand why I should not use it. That was enough for me. I’m serious when I tell you that I have not used that word since then.

Spiegel Catalogue | In the days before McAllen had so many shopping centers, Mom used to order our clothes from the Spiegel Catalogue. She would carefully peruse the pages of the catalogue to see what clothing we would need for the school year and then would work the family budget to see what she could afford to order. Mom would take measurements and then order pants and shirts for me for the Fall and Spring semesters of school. She figured that if the clothes looked good on the models in the catalogue, they would look good on her kids. One year the boys section offered a combination of double-knit pants and double-breasted shirts with ascots. Now, not many people we knew could tell you what an ascot was. Long story short — I arrived for my first-day of 7th Grade wearing double knit pants with penny loafers and a double-breasted shirt with a paisley ascot — the fashion equivalent of being the boy named Sue. I looked like Little Lord Fauntleroy. The hard part was that all of my friends were wearing Levi jeans, t-shirts, and PF Flyers. It was a hard first-day of school. I remember that the toughest kid in school came up to me during my first-period class and asked me what in the world I was wearing and what that thing was around my neck. I told him it was an ascot and then asked him if he had one. He said he didn’t but thought it was pretty cool looking. We became friends and no one gave me any trouble.

Lesson Learned: Mom understood that you don’t have to dress like everybody else in order to be accepted. She always wanted for her kids to look nice, but she helped us understand that we should always accept others for who they are and not because of how they dress. By the way, she later added Levi jeans and some PF Flyers to my school wardrobe.

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PS | If you have not already done do, please take a moment to read my first post on my Mom entitled My Beautiful Mom | A and my final post entitled My Beautiful Mom | C.

My sweet and beautiful mother, Frances, passed away on Saturday, May 30. Words cannot begin to express the terrible pain of that loss. Although I grieve with the hope of one day seeing Mom again in heaven, the pain of not seeing her again on this side of heaven is intense. For the first time in my life I made the journey home and Mom was not there to greet me. I had hoped to have her around for at least fifteen or twenty more years. But now I have to live with her absence. I will never get over her death — I will just have to learn to live with it.

As I was mourning the fact that she is gone, I remembered something Mom had told me years ago. On the day I was born in the Mission city hospital, two other babies were also born. However, both of these baby girls lost their mothers at birth. I was the only baby born on April 7, 1956 in the Mission city hospital to go home with his mother. When Mom and Dad arrived home with me, Mom said that the funeral procession for the mother of one of the babies born on April 7 was passing by on the street in front of our home. That street leads to Laurel Hill cemetery, where we laid Mom to rest today. The two girls who share my birthday never had the privilege of knowing their mothers. When I reflect on that, I realize how blessed I am to have had Mom for fifty-three years. I am grateful to God for each of those years.

I have often told others that I had the best childhood any kid could have had. My childhood was magical and adventurous. I grew up feeling safe and secure because my parents loved each other deeply. I learned from watching my parents that one of the best gifts a Mom can give to her children is to love and respect their Dad. And my Dad always loved and respected my Mom. He always treated her like a lady and she loved him for it. I am a better husband to my wife because of the example that my parents set for me and my siblings. Mom and Dad enjoyed 54-years of marriage together. I don’t think they were ever apart through all those years. And, in all of that time I never knew them to be unkind to one another.

They say that when you die your whole life passes before your eyes. Perhaps that is true, but I don’t know for certain. However, I can now say for certain that when Mom died I saw my whole life with her pass before my eyes. So many memories surfaced and brought me laughter, comfort, and joy. So, to give you a little taste of what it was like to have such a beautiful lady like Frances for a Mom, I have recorded a few of my fondest memories and the lessons I learned from Mom. Here is my first installment.

First-Born | Mom told me that when she and Dad left the hospital with me, they stopped by the church and dedicated me to God before taking me home. As the first-born child, I’m sure they had lots of concerns about being new parents. But, they had the wisdom to ask God for help.

Lesson Learned: Mom understood that as new parents, she and Dad could not raise me or my brothers and sisters apart from divine help. They got it right from the beginning. The Psalmist declared, “Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain.” (Ps. 127:1)

Brush Fire | It would not take long to discover why Mom needed divine help for parenting. When we lived on Holland Street in Mission, Texas we had neighbors whose backyard was covered with weeds that were tall and very dry. One hot South Texas summer, my friend George and I decided that we would crawl through those weeds and start a campfire like the Cowboys and Indians. So, I took a box of matches from Mom’s kitchen and George and I started our fire. However, because everything was so dry our little campfire spread and soon the entire backyard was engulfed in flames threatening to burn down the neighbor’s wood-frame house. Someone called the fire department and I got to see my first fire-truck up close and personal. Afraid that I would get in trouble, I hid the matchers in a place I thought no one would ever know and denied that I had anything to do with starting the fire. When I went home Mom stopped me at the door and told me to turn around and bring her the box of matches. And, to my surprise, she directed me to the exact place where I had hidden them.

Lesson Learned: Mom had x-ray vision. To this day I do not know how she knew the exact place where I had hidden those matches, and she never told me how she knew. Mom taught me that while I might be able to do things behind her back, I would never be able to do anything behind God’s back.

Fuller-Brush | Some of you remember the days of door-to-door salesmen. I remember the Fuller Brush man because I went to school with his son. Like Dad, he was a hard-working man. He wore a white shirt with perspiration stains under the arms, a Tom Landry-looking fedora, and carried a bulky sales case. Mom always bought something from the Fuller Brush man, however small. One day I looked out the window and saw the Fuller Brush man on our street. I told Mom and she scrambled to look for loose change around the house so that she could buy something from him — which she did. She bought a little brush. After he left, I asked Mom why she had bought a brush that she did not need. Mom told me that although she did not need the brush the Fuller Brush man needed the sale because he had a family to support and even a small sale would help him.

Lesson Learned: Mom understood that life is not just about what we want but about what others need. She taught me that sometimes you make sacrifices, however small, in order to help others. Mom modeled concern for others throughout her life and taught us to be sensitive and responsive to the needs of others.

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PS | Today, June 2, 2009, is also my daughter Gina’s 18th Birthday. It’s been a tough day for her, but she shared a moving tribute to her grandmother at the funeral. Please take a moment to read my follow-up posts entitled My Beautiful Mom | B and My Beautiful Mom | C.