’Til Each Tear Becomes a Rose

’Til Each Tear Becomes a Rose

Today’s Word from Sheila Weidendorf…

Pastor Jim recently preached the good word about Love as the Greatest Commandment—the love of God, the love of neighbor, the love of self. But life and love among we mere mortals can be a tricky business. Human relations are fraught with miscommunication, futile expectations, bruised egos, broken hearts. We don’t always do the right thing, or bring our full selves to the table of relating and loving or even know where to begin sometimes on the path to being fully loving beings. Sometimes we don’t know how to accept love—we don’t always remember that we are always a part of God and, as such, always worthy of love.

My mother, Hope Weidendorf, is dying. Well, sort of. She lives in a dementia care facility in Minnesota and has a host of physical ailments and conditions as well as the faltering of her mind and her identity. While she is not in known imminent danger of demise, she is most definitely on the slippery one-way slope that leads beyond her mortal coil.

She is, in many ways, a miracle. She contracted Covid last year. Already on constant oxygen due to chronic and long-term lung disease and a lifelong heavy smoker, Covid didn’t kill her—though it DID make her stop smoking, (only because her nursing care workers refused to allow her access to her cigarettes any longer). And not only did she survive Covid, but she has also survived a lifetime supply of trauma, lifelong mental illness, AND eight known suicide attempts. Nothing thus far has killed her regardless of the measurable odds NOT being in her favor. At this point, it is almost plausible that my mother is immortal.

Be that as it may, her life is rather a text-book testimony to the pernicious power of shame and self-loathing, and to my attempts in the first (more than) half of my mother-enmeshed life to magically “make” her better. Until I realized I do not possess such super powers, that my mother’s self-concept, well-being, and general happiness are beyond my reach. Until I realized, too—and accepted—that I’ll never have the mother I needed as a child.

And yet…Here I am—whole, intact, generally content within myself and happy in the overall trajectory of my life. And my mother? She is happier than I have ever seen her. Alzheimer’s has somehow bypassed her trauma and she—more often than not—forgets to hate herself. I call her regularly and she always remembers me. She remembers that I play piano and misses it, so I’ve found a way for the staff there to share videos of my playing with her. She cries every time as she watches and listens.

Living so far away from her, there’s not much else I can do for her. I call. I listen. I share my music with her. After all the volumes and volumes of misery that have run with the waters under the family bridge, I now find that all I can really do is just love her. There is no room in our relation for expectation, for counting the hurts or hoping for any tangible sea change in the fabric of our bond or our family history. All that is left now is simply to love her, exactly as she has been and exactly as she is.

Love—true love in its fullest sense—is always a healing force. Always. Ditto kindness, compassion, respect. We can NEVER go wrong by holding ourselves in our highest expression and extending that light to others. This does NOT mean our lovingkindness directly causes others to stop hurting, or to change negative behaviors, etc. Love isn’t a mechanism of control, after all. But it IS a means of transformation—both the messenger and the message, the vehicle and the content of our evolution as spiritual beings here in the world.

The music I’m sharing today is an old country tune favorite—Till Every Tear Becomes a Rose. It was written as a love song in a romantic context, but I think it applies to love of all sorts—including the love our Creator has for all expressions of Creation, including you, including me, including my mother.

Click HERE to listen to my rendition.

Sheila Weidendorf

’Til Every Tear Becomes a Rose

~Music & Lyrics by Bill and Mary Sharon Rice
~First recording released by Leon Everette in 1985
~Covered by Keith Whitley & Lorrie Morgan and,
in 1999—my favorite version by John & Fiona Prine

Darling I can see the clouds around you,
And in your heart I know a sorrow grows,
But if you weep I’ll be right there to hold you
‘Til each tear you cry becomes a rose.

Dearest love, I know your heart is shattered,
And all my words can offer no release,
But my love will heal the pain you suffered,
And I’ll be here if you should turn to me.

Darling I can see the clouds around you,
And in your heart I know a sorrow grows,
But if you weep I’ll be right there to hold you
‘Til each tear you cry becomes a rose.

In deepest nights when memories stand together,
Lay with me and put your fears to sleep,
Cause there’s no pain no dream can put asunder,
All the love that binds you to me.

Darling I can see the clouds around you,
And in your heart I know a sorrow grows,
But if you weep I’ll be right there to hold you
‘Til each tear you cry becomes a rose.

Extravagant Hospitality

Extravagant Hospitality

Today’s Word from Pastor Jim…

“Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some have entertained angels without knowing it.”
Hebrews 13:1-2

It was one of those quick church conversations while moving about from office to sanctuary to coffee hour. My TLC friend had visited another congregation in another community. The service was more formal but well done, the music was fine, the pastor, he said, “was not very hospitable.” It sounds like there was precious little hospitality to be found.

If you look in the dictionary you will find the word hospitable. It is situated between its neighbors, Hospital and Hospice. Most of us were born in hospitals. Our journey on earth began and we were 100% dependent on the grace, mercy, and sustenance of those around us. Our chance of survival on our own was non-existent. Through the years we become somewhat divorced from this reality. We would like to fashion ourselves as independent, standing on our two own feet, able to care for ourselves, proud and resilient, needing no one. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth. I can say with great confidence that there has never been a single month in my life that I would have survived without the neighbors, laborers, and caregivers, mostly nameless, who helped me along the way.

Most of us were born in a hospital; if we are lucky, we get seven or eight decades on this planet. As the years pass, and age catches up with us, we once again become increasing dependent on others. It is a human reality. It is the journey of every fortunate human; it is a journey from hospital to hospice. If you find this to be not very uplifting, perhaps a little morbid, I might ask you, does reality bother you? Is denial beneficial?

If every human journey is lived between hospital and hospice, how might that inform our living and the grace that we show to strangers. If every human journey is lived between hospital and hospice, then we might be well served to give more attention to the word that is the neighbor of both, namely HOSPITALITY.

The pastor and the people were not very hospitable. If the Church of Jesus is to be the Church that follows Jesus, then hospitality must be present. Hospitality paves the way for Good News; a lack of hospitality will close the hearts and minds of weary humans who are trying to make their way from Hospital to Hospice.

May we intentionally double our efforts to be people of extravagant hospitality.

See you in Church!

Pastor Jim
[email protected]

Joy

Joy

Today’s Word from Pastor Tom…

As I write this, I am listening to our Karl play and sing “I Heard the Voice of Jesus Say.” Assuming you were blessed by his devotion last Wednesday, the tune “Kingsfold” might still be ringing in your head. This is a favorite hymn of mine sung to a tune that for me sounds hauntingly Irish. Beautifully Irish. I love Ireland. I love the scenery, the history, the traditions, the people. I love Kingsfold and I love to hear Karl sing to its simple but beautiful melody. “Be Thou My Vision” is also a favorite with a distinct Irish ambiance. It will be sung at my memorial service… not right away, hopefully.

I confess to being a bit jealous of Karl’s gifts. Okay, maybe a lot jealous. Music touches my soul, my heart, and my head in a way that often leaves me weepy while at the same time grateful. Isn’t that curious? While I confess I sometimes can get weepy over TV commercials (isn’t that pathetic!), I have never quite figured out how certain images coupled with certain sounds are capable of creating such emotions within me. Anyway, I am forever grateful for the gifts Karl, Sheila, and all of our musicians grace us with.

The best word I can offer up to describe the effect music can have over me is “joy.” Now keep in mind I am not a musician. I would chant in my former parish and would periodically sing in our choir but I do not count myself a musician. I listen and have learned to follow notes up and down (assuming we actually look at music notes anymore). I myself can get really excited though when music is combined with a visual. Try the YouTube of Tommy Shaw (Styx?) singing, “Fooling Yourself” with the Cleveland Youth Symphony (the young musicians absolutely make this for me!). Or, Peter Gabriel singing, “In Your Eyes” (Secret World Live… it just makes me happy).

These are moments that fill me with joy. Obviously, my emotional response to music is not limited to the sacred. Then again, maybe my response is in itself sacred? Regardless of the musical genre? Hmmmm… well, that question is for another blog. Anyway, back to joy.

I also am not particularly happy right now. Let me see… the new roof went 50% over the estimate, the plumber says it’s going to cost a couple of thousand to fix the sewer main, you never stop parenting regardless of children’s age, yada yada yada. I know, you’ve heard it all before, take a ticket.

But that’s my point. We can simultaneously experience joy while not being particularly happy in life. Joy is a spiritual gift. It comes from outside of us; it is a spirit thing. It is a sign that the Kingdom of God is close while “happiness,” or lack thereof, is a creation of our own making. We can will ourselves to be happy but we cannot will ourselves to have joy. This past summer we had to put down our two dogs. They were both rescue dogs. First Cleo (7) and then Gucci (15). It was crushing; we loved them. We have always rescued dogs, an older one mentoring a younger. To say we were unhappy, sad, would be the grossest of understatements.

Yet, through our tears, in moments of reflection, we both have found joy in their memory. Isn’t that how it works? Joy and sadness at the same time. Joy is a gift reminding us that the Kingdom has come close. Now, I just need to find a YouTube piece of music to go with their memory… naw, on second thought I think I’ll pass on this one. Don’t need another reason to weep. Pray for joy. Joy is God’s antidote for the world’s sadness.

For you I pray joy,
Pastor Tom
[email protected]

Choose Kind

Choose Kind

Today’s Word from Deacon Amy…

“Nothing beats kindness… it sits quietly beyond all things.” Charlie Mackesy.

I was waiting in line at a sandwich shop the other day when an older gentleman in front of me turned to look at me and smiled. He told me that he liked my shirt and thanked me for wearing it. That day I was wearing a simple t-shirt with the words “Choose Kind” written in large letters across the front.

“Choose Kind” has become a sort of motto for me. I tell my own kids, and my students, that although we don’t always have a choice in what happens to us in life, we always have the option to choose how we respond. I try to keep my default response set on choosing kindness. There is very rarely reason to respond in any other way.

I’ve had a few conversations lately with people who work in service positions; these people are servers at restaurants, baristas, and grocery checkers. They have told me in shocking detail just how many people are treating them with anything but kindness. They are frequently yelled at, berated, and belittled. The vast majority of the insults that are thrown their way are in response to something that is in no way within the employee’s control. They simply become a target.

Truly, I don’t understand this. I see absolutely no benefit to anyone that can arise from this behavior. So, I choose to live my life with an attitude of kindness. When waitresses apologize for slow service, I thank them for being at work that day and giving me the opportunity to eat out. When grocers tell me that their shelves are empty because supply trucks are running behind schedule, I smile and tell them that I understand. My comments are frequently met with sighs of relief. Sadly, people have become accustomed to being mistreated.

I’ve enjoyed reading a lovely little book by Charlie Mackesy called The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse recently. It’s a short book full of whimsical illustrations and simple text that focuses on love and kindness. A favorite line says, “One of our greatest freedoms is how we react to things.” What a lovely way to look at life! We are blessed to have the option to choose how we respond. We can choose to respond with anger and hatred, or we can choose to respond with love and kindness.

I, for one, choose kindness. I hope that you will, too. Together we can fill the world with love.

Deacon Amy
[email protected]

from www.oldlutheran.com

Happy Birthday Web and Marion!

Happy Birthday Web and Marion!

Today’s Word from Pastor Jim…

I hope you will join us this Sunday, September 26, for a very special day in the life of our community. We are having a birthday party this coming Sunday for Web Halvorsen. On September 28th, Web will be celebrating his 103rd Birthday. His younger bride, Marion Kolb, will be 102 on January 20th. These kids knew each other as kids. They were enjoying their teenage years together in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin when World War Two disrupted their romance.

In June of 1944, Web would land on the beaches of Normandy as a part of the greatest invasion force in history. Little did he know that his brother was making landfall on another ship. He would fight his way all the way to Germany, sharing roadside coffee with General George Patton, and running into his brother along the way.

Web Halvorsen was born in 1918. The world had embarked on the War to end all wars. If World War One was not enough, the Spanish Flu was killing 50 million people worldwide and 675,000 Americans. In 1918 Congress established Time Zones, Louis B. Mayer arrived in Los Angeles, Woodrow Wilson was in the White House, and a young baseball star, by the name of Babe Ruth, hit 11 home runs for the Boston Red Sox.

Topping the music charts in 1918: “Oh How I Hate to Get Up in the Morning,” Enrico Caruso’s rendition of the George M. Cohan song “Over There,” and Al Jolson, singing “Rock A Bye Your Baby with a Dixie Melody.” Born in 1918: William Holden, Nelson Mandela, Sam Walton, Billy Graham, Leonard Bernstein, Paul Harvey, Betty Ford, and Rin Tin Tin.

A Birthday Celebration on Sunday at Trinity! Come out and help Web and Marion celebrate at the 10:30 service. Bring a card, mail in a card, or drop one off at the office. We will have a special cake for the occasion.

One day closer,
Pastor Jim
[email protected]

Whose is it?

Whose is it?

Today’s Word from Pastor Jim…

“The heavens are yours, the earth is also yours; the world and all that is in it — you founded them.” Psalm 89:11

The flamboyant entertainer Liberace was a remarkable musician, but he was known for his lavish costumes, lavish rings, mink capes, ornate pianos, candelabras, and expensive tastes. He was known as “Mr. Showmanship.” He described his act saying, “I am a one-man Disneyland.” At one point in his career, he was getting 10,000 pieces of fan mail a week.

I remember seeing an interview with Liberace on “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” at his Las Vegas home. As you might imagine, his home was over the top, and the treasures that he had collected were impressive, to say the least. He proudly displayed China dishes from the Palace of Versailles once owned by Louis the XIV. The interviewer was duly impressed and he asked Liberace how long he had owned the China. Mr. Showmanship was stopped in his tracks. He replied, “Own it? How could one own such a thing? I don’t own it; no one will ever own it. I am just caring for it for a short time.”

I have never forgotten that interview and the profound lesson that it taught me. The truth is, we own nothing. Your body is not yours: your mind is not yours, your wealth is not yours, your home will belong to someone else soon, your children are entrusted to you for a short time. Everything you are and everything that you have is on loan to you, nothing belongs to you. Nothing belongs to me.

Whose is it? It all belongs to God. The water that you drink from your water bottle has passed by the lips of peasants and kings, bears and rhinos. The water in your water bottle was frozen in glaciers a million years ago; it ran down the Jordan when Jesus was baptized, it has passed through more bladders than you could count. Who does it belong to? There is only one answer: God.

Everything is interconnected and nothing is in our possession — not for long anyway! We are simply caretakers, taking our turn, caring for all that has been entrusted to us. We are dust and to dust we shall return; and the dust in your body was once the house of other humans, your bones, their bones, your teeth, their teeth. It is “The Law of Conservation of Matter.” Matter is neither created nor destroyed; the total amount of mass and energy in the Universe is constant.

None of it belongs to us. It is all a gift entrusted to us for a short time. Don’t tell me that your body belongs to you. Don’t tell me about your rights. Tell me about your responsibility. Don’t tell me what you are entitled to, but tell me what you intend to do that will benefit the common good.

Whose is it? It all belongs to the Master of the Universe and the Master of the Universe loves you.

See you in Church.
Pastor Jim