Thanksgiving: gratitude in all life's seasons

It has been a long time since I've written on this blog. There have been many reasons for that. Thanksgiving weekend seems like a good time to get back to it: to provide a few updates of what's been going on and, in the process, give thanks.

Family life has been very, very busy with lots of emotions and details to process. On August 13, five days before our family's trip to PEI, my dad had a fall at home and was taken to the hospital by ambulance. He was admitted and underwent various tests that showed poor heart and kidney functioning. Dad was in hospital the entire time we were in PEI and for several weeks after that. This sudden crisis meant that our PEI vacation had a very different tone to it: I spent several hours in the hospital most days, keeping Dad company, talking to staff, etc. We were glad to be there to support him and help my brother out as well. After consultations with the hospital staff we all concluded it probably was not feasible for my dad to live at home any more, so we had a family meeting at the hospital and submitted an application for a nursing home placement.

In early October, seven weeks after Dad's admission to hospital, he moved to a nursing home in Charlottetown. I haven't been down to see him yet, so I don't know exactly how the transition has gone; but I'm very thankful that this move happened, that he has a place where he can be well cared for. Dad is stoic about all this, as he is about most things. I remember when Mom died and he moved to the apartment, he said, "I'd rather be at the farm, but since I can't be, I'm glad I'm here." There is a lot to be said for that kind of attitude at his time of life. Aging brings so many losses: as a friend said to me the other day, when we're young, change often means an opening up of life and options, whereas when we're older, change often signals a closing down and narrowing. It's not easy. But my dad is a wonderful person and I think he still has a lot to offer the world with his kind, quiet spirit.

Once we returned from PEI at the end of August, it was time for school. Jonathan settled back into high school life like a duck slips into water; he was eager to get on the bus and see his EA, Dylan (who calls Jonathan his "partner in crime"), and to connect with old and new friends. I'm grateful that he likes school so much and is so happy there.

Allison resumed university classes again in September as well. All along she'd been taking exclusively online courses; she'd completed 10 credits after two years of part-time study. But this fall, besides an online course in Clinical Psychology, she's also taking an on-campus course. She decided she wanted to take Linguistics, and that's only offered on campus. So she now goes to campus two days a week for class and tutorial, and is really enjoying the material she's learning. I'm grateful that she chose this new venture all on her own and has been successful with it so far.

On September 9 I had my long-awaited eye surgery (I wrote here about the preparation for that) to correct my double vision, which I've struggled with for a number of years. The surgery was done under general anesthetic and took about two hours. The surgeon detached the eye muscles on the inside corners of both eyes, adjusted their position, and sewed them back up again. I get a little squeamish when I stop and think about that -- but it was actually very straightforward and went well. My eyes were red, runny, and sore for several days, but every day got better. I've had two follow-up appointments and everything is as it should be. The double vision is not (yet) 100% resolved -- it can take a couple of months for the eyes to settle -- but I can now see perfectly with my glasses on, without the stick-on prism I was wearing for six months in preparation for the surgery. I'm thankful. Even if my eyes never reach perfect alignment, the improvement has been amazing.

So it has been a full, stressful few months, but there have been many things to be grateful for along the way. I look out my window at this moment and see multi-coloured trees against a gray sky. A yellow leaf floats to the ground. There is beauty everywhere, in the everyday and in all the seasons of life. 

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.

~ Lamentations 3:22-23 ~

Happy Thanksgiving. 

Super sixteen

Today Jonathan is sixteen years old. He has changed so much in the past year; he is at least thirty pounds heavier and several inches taller.

Jonathan takes so much pleasure in the simple things of life: seagulls, geese, garbage and recycling, buses, and brooms. He still loves the Wiggles and Barney. He enjoys going to watch Dad play soccer or softball, and he likes going with Dad to watch a Queen's football game or a Frontenacs hockey game.

And he loves to go to the beach. Here he is at Canoe Cove, our favourite beach in PEI.

Happy Birthday, Jonathan! We love you!

"Blessed are the poor in spirit": encountering one of God's "little ones"

The Beatitudes (Matthew 5: 3-10)

[Jesus] said:

³ Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
⁴ Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
⁵ Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
⁶ Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
⁷ Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
⁸ Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
⁹ Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
¹⁰ Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

As I was pondering this statement yesterday, an incident came to mind that I've written about before on this blog as part of my "Checkout-Line Encounters" series. It was an encounter with an old man and a young woman at the grocery store a few years ago, and it has stayed with me ever since. I even wrote a poem about it:

Treasure

He stood in the grocery store line –

old face etched, smile gnome-like –

waiting for his items to move along

the belt, like all he had was time.

His cart was blocking a young woman,

who said curtly, "I need to get by here.”

He moved aside, mumbling to himself,

a private amusement twitching on his lips.

One of his boxes fell to the floor, and

I picked it up. Vachon caramel cakes –

I used to love those! Maybe I saw him,

at that moment, as a kindred spirit.

"I think these are yours,” I said. He took

the box from me, but made no reply.

The young woman snickered, "I don't think

he has a clue what's going on,” and walked off.

I don't know which way either of them went

when they left the store. But I imagined her

fifty years from now, feeble, mortified by

the contempt of a young person without patience.

And I imagined him tottering merrily home

to an underground lair, where he’d open the box

and eat his treasured cakes, laughing away

at some secret joke.

I share the incident again here because it strikes me as a living example of Jesus' "poor in spirit" pronouncement.

The 17th-century Bible commentator Matthew Henry characterizes "poor in spirit" as a state of humble self-denial: "Those who would build high must be brought low," he says. The old man I saw in the store seemed to be the epitome of poor in spirit. He was low -- in both status and stature. By all appearances he was not well-off financially, nor did he seem to have it all together intellectually. He was physically slow. To the young woman, he was barely worth consideration: she was impatient with him, talking disrespectfully at him as if he wasn't even there. 

Yet he seemed to be the blessed one, in comparison. The woman's unkindness made no lasting impression on him; he was focused on the task at hand. He was unhurried and unhurry-able. He looked happy. As I say in the poem, I imagined him taking great delight in those delicious caramel cakes. The simple pleasures of life seemed to be enough for him.

How ironic that, as Jesus says, the kingdom of heaven belongs to the poor in spirit. If that's so, then this strange old fellow was far closer to the kingdom than the young woman, who was so attractive, efficient, and capable looking. 

Matthew Henry's commentary says this about those who are poor in spirit:

"God looks graciously upon them. They are his little ones, and have their angels. To them he gives more grace; they live the most comfortable lives, and are easy to themselves and all about them, and nothing comes amiss to them." 

I would not be at all surprised if most of the people who get ignored, forgotten, and shoved aside in our world are included among the poor in spirit. Yet God sees them as blessed and looks on them with grace.