Yesterday, while at a cemetary, I read the following words on a tombstone of a teen age boy, and immediately it broke me up.

“It broke our hearts to lose you, you did not go alone, for part of us went with you, the day God called you home; Our family chain is broken, and nothing seems the same, but as God calls us one by one, the chain will link again.” Thinking back to when Marie went home with Jesus, those words could have expressed part of my feelings. Even though it has been more than a year since she passed into eternity, I miss her tremendously and think of her many times throughout the day. I am so glad to know where she is and some day I will be re-united with her. How about you?  Love, Dad

I read the following this morning and thought how they tied in with Moms interests.

“Embroidery Of Earth”

August 15, 2011

Our Daily Bread is hosted by Les Lamborn

READ: Isaiah 41:17-20

I will plant in the wilderness the cedar and the acacia tree, the myrtle and the oil tree. —Isaiah 41:19

Near one of the most majestic sites in God’s nature is a botanical garden of awe-inspiring beauty. On the Canadian side of Niagara Falls is the Floral Showhouse. Inside the greenhouse is a vast array of beautiful flowers and exotic plants. In addition to the flora my wife and I observed, something else caught our attention—the wording of a plaque.

It reads: “Enter, friends, and view God’s pleasant handiwork, the embroidery of earth.” What a marvelous way to describe the way our Creator favored this globe with such jaw-dropping beauty!

The “embroidery of earth” includes such far-ranging God-touches as the verdant rainforests of Brazil, the frigid beauty of Arctic Circle glaciers, the flowing wheat fields of the North American plains, and the sweeping reaches of the fertile Serengeti in Africa. These areas, like those described in Isaiah 41, remind us to praise God for His creative handiwork.

Scripture also reminds us that the wonder of individual plants are part of God’s work. From the rose (Isa. 35:1) to the lily (Matt. 6:28) to the myrtle, cypress, and pine (Isa. 41:19-20), God colors our world with a splendorous display of beauty. Enjoy the wonder. And spend some time praising God for the “embroidery of earth.” —Dave Branon

If God’s creation helps you see
What wonders He can do
Then trust the many promises
That He has given you. —D. De Haan

Creation is filled with signs that point to the Creator.

Knitted Together

Posted: 16 Aug 2011 11:01 PM PDT

“You knit me together in my mother’s womb.” Psalm 139:13, NIV

“Knitted together” is how the psalmist described the process of God making man. Not manufactured or mass-produced, but knitted. Each thread of personality tenderly intertwined. Each string of temperament deliberately selected . . .

The Creator, the master weaver, threading together the soul.

Each one different. No two alike. None identical.

Each thread tenderly intertwined, each string deliberately selected, knitted together! Praise God!

Awakened By A Close Friend

August 2, 2011

Our Daily Bread is hosted by Les Lamborn

READ: John 14:1-7

Where I am, there you may be also. —John 14:3

A few years ago I had some tests to screen for cancer, and I was nervous about the outcome. My anxiety was magnified as I thought about the fact that while the medical personnel were well-trained and extremely competent, they were also strangers who had no relationship with me.

After awakening from the anesthesia, however, I heard the beautiful sound of my wife’s voice: “It’s great, Honey. They didn’t find anything.” I looked up at her smiling face and was comforted. I needed the assurance of someone who loved me.

A similar assurance lies ahead for all who have trusted Jesus. Believers can be comforted in knowing that when they wake up in heaven, One who loves them greatly—Jesus—will be there.

The Book of Common Prayer expresses this Christian hope: “After my awakening, [my Redeemer] will raise me up; and in my body I shall see God. I myself shall see, and eyes behold Him who is my friend and not a stranger.”

Do you have trouble facing mortality? Jesus promised to be there when we slip from this world into the next. He said, “Where I am [heaven], there you may be also” (John 14:3). What a comfort for believers to know that after death we will be awakened by a close Friend. —Dennis Fisher

What wonders await us in yonder fair land!
The face of our Savior, the touch of His hand,
No tears and no crying, no sighs or despair,
For Jesus is waiting to welcome us there. —Kerr

To see Jesus will be heaven’s greatest joy

This was so appropriate. Mom experienced this July 16, 2010 early that morning.

Yesterday, Sunday July 31,2011, after church I was talking with one of Mom’ friends Robyn, and was told by Robyn that on July 11 (Moms birthdate) Robyn picked out a t shirt to wear in honor of Mom ( the shirt was the same kind that Mom wore when working with Robyn). Robyn went on to say that the chair that Mom sat in, every time Robyn sees it she is reminded of that special relationship they had (Robyn asked Mom if she would be her big sister).

In some readings lately, I have been reminded of the Hands of Jesus, hands of incarnation, liberation, inspiration, dedication, salvation, cleansing, healing and making whole. Beautiful, wonderful hands. Then this thought by Max Lucado in his book “He Chose The Nails”, about our asking “where is God?” “We cannot find a place where God is not.”  Then a thought about being independent by Charles Swindoll. “Inevitably, when we stand strong and alone like a steer in a blizzard, looking like we can make it on our own, we easily forget that each life – sustaining beat of our hearts is a gift from God – we’re really not that independent after all. We not only need the Lord, we need each other. That need only intensifies when the barometer of life drops to the bottom of the gauge — when the winds of adversity blow hard against our souls. We cannot make it on our own.” from “Paul: A Man of Grace and Grit”  I want you to know that I really need each of you, and I’m sorry if I have seemed to turn you away. There are many times when I’m really in a fog, but I really need you! Please keep on reaching out in support. Love, Dad

Have you ever given much thought to the brevity of this life on earth? I have read recently or more accurately (noticed in reading) that this life is like a wisp of smoke, but the after life will last forever. We spend so much time and effort on this life, but hardly anytime preparing for eternity. Interesting isn’t it? Perhaps I didn’t pay much attention to it until my sweetheart passed away, now I long to be reunited with her and other loved ones who have gone on ahead, but first of all I want to see Jesus. I just read the following this morning. Love, Dad

Certain of Eternity
Day 265

You have heard the cliché “Life is short,” but the words do not impact you until you experience the death of a loved one.

“My mom was fifty-six years old when she was diagnosed with colon cancer,” says Dr. Robert Jeffress. “The doctor said, ‘You have four months to live.’ Because she was a noted personality in Dallas, Texas, several TV stations came out to interview her before her death. They said to her, ‘Mrs. Jeffress, how does it feel to know that your case is terminal, that you are going to die?’

“This is what my mom said on that interview: ‘We’re all terminal. The only difference is some of us realize it and some of us don’t.’”

You understand the hard truth of that so-called cliché. What will you do with this knowledge? Yes, life on earth is short, but life beyond the grave lasts forever. Be certain of your own eternal destination.

“He who believes in the Son [Jesus] has eternal life; but he who does not obey the Son will not see life, but the wrath of God abides on him” (John 3:36 nasb).

Lord Jesus, You are my Lord and Savior. Forgive me for my sins and failures. I yield control of my life to You. Teach me how to live for You. Amen.

One Minute After You Die
Erwin Lutzer

You’ll get solid, biblical answers to some of life’s deepest questions in this book, such as, What will heaven be like? How will heaven differ from life here? Can modern man still believe in hell? How can we prepare for our own final moment? What does the Bible have to say about hell, hades, and purgatory? This easy-to-understand book will help you find answers to these complex questions.

Order from the GriefShare HelpCenter

A song sung by Don Moen back in the 1980 -1990 time frame was “If You Could See Me Now”. It gave us something to think about when a loved passed into eternity if they had a relationship with Jesus. As you think of that title and its relationship to Mom, what might you envision? I hope you think about it and make some entries. Here are the words to that song:   Love, Dad

If You Could See Me Now   by Don Moen

Our prayers have all been answered
I finally arrived
The healing that had been delayed
Has now been realized
No one’s in a hurry
There’s no schedule to keep
We’re all enjoying Jesus
Just sitting at His feet

If you could see me now
I’m walking streets of gold
If you could see me now
I’m standing tall and whole
If you could see me now
You’d know I’ve seen His face
If you could see me now
You’d know the pain’s erased
You wouldn’t want me
To ever leave this place
You could only see me now

My light and temporary trials
Have worked out for my good
To know it brought Him glory
When I misunderstood
Though we’ve had our sorrows
They can never compare
What Jesus has in store for us
No language can share

If you could see me now
I’m walking streets of gold
If you could see me now
I’m standing tall and whole
If you could see me now
You’d know I’ve seen His face
If you could see me now
You’d know the pain’s erased (2)

You wouldn’t want me
To ever leave this perfect place
You could only see me now
You could see me now
You could only see me now

The above title is from a little devotional tha i recently read. It is talking of God’s Word and is a commentary on Jeremiah 15:16 ‘When Your words came, I ate them; they were my joy and my heart’s delight, for I bear Your name, O Lord God Almighty.” Alicia Britt Chloe says in “Pure Joy” “For me, good company enriches any meal. And Jeremiah felt the same way. His favorite food was God’s Word in the company of … God Himself! What an incredible banquet God gives us through His Word. The scriptures, when ingested, bring delight to our hearts and energy to our spirits. God’s Word is thoroughly nutritious and always fresh.”

I find it true what she said. God’s Word is real life, and it is always right on target. But, you know that good company always does enrich a meal – I notice it more now than I ever did before, especially since my sweetheart passed into eternity. I really enjoy spending time with any of our family, even spur of the moment get togethers. So, keep me in your lives please. I Love each of you. Dad

This is the first memorial day without her here, there have been many firsts since my sweetheart passed into eternity. The first day without her here was July 17, 2010 (Marie died early July 16) there was the first moment, first minute, first hour before the first day. Many times over the course of these 10 months since her death, I’ve cried because of the tremendous loss, like one of my sons said “It’s like cutting dad in half and asking him to survive”. Each first that comes along hits me broadside sometimes without any warning. There have been many times when I’ve wanted to tell the world around me to “stop-don’t you realize what happened? pause and remember her.” Yet I know the world moves on as does life. Over these months there have been things in my life that have helped distract me from dwelling on this huge loss, sometimes the distraction might last for days or hours, that doesn’t mean that I didn’t think about her during those times, how could I not think about her! Recently, I had the privilege of helping to care for an older sister in Florida who has Parkinsons and Dimentia . This was good for me as I spent time with my three sisters and two brother in laws and two nephews and their families. This brought me back to a sense of more normal family life even though it was without Marie. During these past months, I’ve had many times spent with our sons and their families and that is always very good for me!!  It is at these times that I really feel loved!! My little dog Harley brings lots of companionship and love too. I fully understand that God loves me more than I can truly comprehend, and I have and will pour out my heart to Him. It seems so trite to just say thank you to family and friends who have come alongside me during these trying difficult days – but – Thank You!! I love all of you dearly!!! Please keep me in your prayers and keep me in your life. I need you!!  Love from Dad, Ron

It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything here.

I posted a short message on Facebook a while ago, it went something like this:  Minimize your regrets.  If your mom is still around, make sure you tell her how you love her.

Over the past ten months since Mom died, I’ve found that regrets are like waves, at least for me:  the swells, the troughs of big waves, even the receding and advancing tide.

In low moments, my regrets weigh heavily upon me; when I’ve slept well, those regrets recede a bit.  This is completely normal.

What I’m finding nowadays, is that regret is completely normal.  I think that in the long run, having no regrets may be a sign of trouble — I think we’ll always have at least one or two regrets.

Learning to live.  Nobody is perfect; at one time or another, we will do stuff that, later in life, we will regret.  To have no regrets is to have no conscience, or no life.

I guess what I’m saying is:  my regrets are my regrets.  If there is something I can do about them, I will … but if it’s for some reason too late, I’ll forgive myself.

It’s weird how someone, after they’re gone, can continue teaching us stuff, ain’t it?  Thanks Mom!

I know it’s easier to walk away, rather than look it in the eye.  But I have given all that I could take, and now I’ve only habits left to break; tonight I’ll still be lying here, surrounded in all the light.  — Dream Theater

Psalm 139:13-18 (New International Version, ©2011)

¹³ For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
¹⁶ Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
¹⁷ How precious to me are your thoughts,^[a] God!
How vast is the sum of them!
¹⁸ Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.

Breath Of Life

April 14, 2011

Our Daily Bread is hosted by Les Lamborn

READ: Psalm 139:13-18

The Spirit of God has made me, and the breath of the Almighty gives me life. —Job 33:4

In his book Life After Heart Surgery, David Burke recalls his close brush with death. Lying in his hospital bed after a second open-heart surgery, he found himself in incredible pain, unable to draw a full breath. Feeling that he was slipping toward eternity, he prayed one last time, trusting God and thanking Him for forgiveness of his sin.

David was thinking about seeing his dad, who had died several years earlier, when his nurse asked how he was feeling. He replied, “I’m okay now,” explaining he was ready to go to heaven and meet God. “Not on my shift, buddy!” she said. Soon the doctors were opening his chest again and removing two liters of fluid. That done, David began to recover.

It’s not unusual for any of us to ponder what it will be like when we face our final moments on earth. But those who “die in the Lord” have the certainty that they are “blessed” (Rev. 14:13) and that their death is “precious in the sight of the Lord” (Ps. 116:15).

God fashioned our days even before we existed (Ps. 139:16), and we exist now only because “the breath of the Almighty gives [us] life” (Job 33:4). Though we don’t know how many breaths we have left—we can rest in the knowledge that He does. —Cindy Hess Kasper

God holds our future in His hands
And gives us every breath;
Just knowing that He’s by our side
Allays our fear of death. —Sper

From our first breath to our last, we are in God’s care.                      This morning as I read the above scripture and devotional thoughts I was reminded that our heavenly father is in control before our birth and all through life, even after this life on earth (our temporary home) to our final real home. Praise  God!!!  Love, Dad

I read something from Max Lucado today and want to share it with you.

“A Righteous Man

Posted: 08 Apr 2011 11:01 PM PDT

“Surely this was a righteous man.”  Luke 23:47, NIV

“All the Roman centurion did was see Jesus suffer. He never heard him preach or saw him heal or followed him through the crowds. He never witnessed him still the wind; he only witnessed the way he died. But that was all it took to cause this weather-worn soldier to take a giant step in faith. “Surely this was a righteous man . . .”

Anybody can preach a sermon on a mount surrounded by daisies. But only one with a gut full of faith can live a sermon on a mountain of pain.” This begs a question of me – Am I living a life that really reflects Jesus dwelling in me?  That sure doesn’t mean that I am perfect or ever will be here on earth, but, my desire is to be a clear reflection of His saving grace that is transforming me more each day to be more like Jesus.  Love, Dad

“I am going there to prepare a place for you. After I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with Me.” John 14:2,3 NCV Max Lucado writes these words in “Traveling Light”  “Note the promise of Jesus. “I will come back and take you to be with Me.” Jesus pledges to take us home. He does not delegate this task. He may send missionaries to teach you, angels to protect you, teachers to guide you, singers to inspire you, and physicians to heal you, but He sends no one to take you. He reserves this job for Himself.”   As I read that and re-read it, naturally my thoughts go back to July 16, 2010, when my sweetheart Marie was taken home by Jesus, to be with Him forevermore. There are other loved ones with Him that have been taken by Him. I am assured and comforted by this promise, and look forward and long for that day when Jesus takes me home. I will see Him first, then be reunited with Marie and other loved ones. I hope as you read this, you too will be comforted and look forward to the day God calls you home.  Love, Dad

I wonder if anyone has given thought to the artistic part of both Grandpa Bork’s (Marie’s Dad)work with trays and other woodworking and Moms work with quilts along with her drawings. The thought struck me recently as I was thanking God for both of them and their influence on my life. They both worked with precise angles on their projects, and had to consider how things would fit together in the planning, then actually putting together. Could Marie have been influenced by her father or vice versa? It just goes to show how we might influence others lives  sometimes without knowing about it until it shows. Keep on splashing out into others lives the good and honorable things. I love each of you.  Dad

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave bereft
I am not there. I have not left.

-Mary Elizabeth Frye

Earlier this evening I was watching and listening to the Gaithers music on TV. They were honoring the Billy Graham team with some of the favorite songs of Ruth and Billy Graham as well as Cliff Barrows and George Beverly Shea. Songs such as “Oh The Wonder Of It All – Just To Think that God Loved Me” ; “The King Is Coming” ; “How Great Thou Art” ; “Just as I Am” ; “Thank You”. As I listened, some words stood out such as these from “The King Is Coming”, “Happy faces line the hallways, those whose lives have been redeemed, little children and the aged hand in hand stand all aglow.” I can picture my sweetheart Marie, standing with little children like the one we lost, those that tom and Michelle lost, my brother whom I never met. Then these words from “Thank You” by Ray Boltz, “Then someone called your name – we turned and saw… Thank you for giving to the Lord – I am a life that was changed”  I know there are people in heaven because of Mom giving to the Lord, and there will be more = perhaps some who will read these words. I know she had a huge impact on my life in so many ways – and I keep thanking God for bringing us together as husband and wife and life partners. Dad

Recently at a Grief Share meeting, I shared a little humorous story of when Marie and I were engaged, we were visiting her parents home in Centuria, Wisconsin. On a weekend evening we went for a drive just to be together and talk, and we drove into Frederick, Wisconsin and were headed back out of town when a Wisconsin State Patrol pulled me over, walked up and gave me a talking to and a warning for inattentive driving (I had my arm around Marie- driving with one arm). Afterward, we had a good laugh about it, and my sweetheart had kept that warning ticket all these years. i don’t remember how we discussed it with her parents, but were probably honest and they probably had a good laugh too. Oh, I forgot to tell you it was basketball tournament time back then too, so I guess the cops were being extra careful.

Then this past week, I found a card that Marie had sent me during our married years when I was apparently out of town working. The little card shows a little fisherman out on his boat fishing, not having any success, inside the card it simply says “I’ve got the lonelies without you.” and signed “I loved you!  Me”  I have cherished that card eversince and now – that message is from me to her. Another little note card has this in Marie’s handwriting “Shared joy is double joy and shared sorrow is half sorrow.”  What a joy it is for me when I come across these memories. Love, Dad

Today I was rereading a portion in a book titled “Reflections of a Grieving Spouse”, by H. Norman Wright, that tells of one concept involved in grieving, that concept is “without”. I am going to quote him; “There was a time when your world consisted of you and your spouse. You probably didn’t realize just how much he or she was “your” life, but now you’re aware all too much. There’s a hole in your personal life, as well as in your daily routine and schedule. You may not be fully aware of just how much has changed until you realize that now everything seems to involve living and doing “without” your spouse. Now you feel alone.

In marriage we develop a lifestyle of “we” and a sense that this is the way it will always be. (The next 2 sentences are my words) Marie and I experienced this. We were a couple for 50 years. We chose togetherness. But with death came absence, and now aloneness becomes the great disruption. Her presence is no more. The comfortable has slid like an icy avalanche into discomfort and unacceptable pain. This is not a choice. It’s forced on us.

All the activities that were shared together must now be done in isolation – or at least it feels that way. What was shared can now only be shared in memory, and we enter into the world of “without”. Everywhere I turn I.m without Marie. It’s as though I entered a train station with two different sets of tracks and a train on each one. Most engines have names as did these two. One is named “Without” and the other is “Blessings”. At this time the “without”train is raging and has a full head of steam, ready to move in a second. The “blessings” train is sitting quietly. Every now and then it may let out a tiny puff of steam, but the other train forges ahead.

Someday —one day—the “without” train and its energy will begin to diminish. Its wheels will slow and its momentum will fade. Slowly, ever so slowly, it will fall behind its counterpart and eventually the “blessings” train will catch up with and pass the “without” train. The past will become a distant speck.

Once in a while “without” may forge ahead again, but it can’t sustain its former pace. For some reason it has to make its presence known. Perhaps it comes because some of the memories have dimmed and there’s a subconcious fear of forgetting the one who was loved. The trains momentum is a cry to the memory of the loved one: “See, you haven’t been forgotten — and you never will be!”  And then the “without” train falls behind again. And perhaps someday its wheels will slow even more, even grinding to a stop. A great sigh will come from the engine as it rests. “Without” has accepted you’re moving on in life. Its presence is no longer because someday “without” will be replaced by “together” again.”

Prior to the above quote , some statements were “The grief you’re experiencing is a demanding and overpowering intruder. It’ all- consuming and disruptive, leaving holes and confusion in your life. It’s reasonable that your responses to life and to others at this time will be unreasonable at times. Because of the severe loss, your focus needs to be on yourself. You need to treat yourself as if you were in intensive care. Why? Because you are emotionally vulnerable, exhausted, and weak.”  Some of these might explain why I have been so lethargic, and don’t seem to accomplish much. In talking with others, this might continue a mixed process for some time. I  identify with what he says.   Love, Dad

Yesterday after going to the Dr., on my way home, I was yearning for advice from my sweetheart, but fully realized that I can no longer talk with her (it’s been over 6 months now). This isn’t the first time that I’ve had that yearning, it has happened often. She was so gifted in so many ways, always interested in new ways, in our grandchildren, our sons and their wives, in ways she could show compassion, give comfort, just love people. As I’ve often said and it bears repeating, “I had the awesome privilege of being married to a gem”. I can think of instances that have occurred recently where her advice would be so valuable – if only we could talk to her. Please pray that as I travel this journey without her, that I will walk close to God, and will always be reminded of her great love for all of us, and in so doing, will honor Jesus and her in my life.  Love, Dad

Many of you know that I have had a dog almost since the day we were married. Shortly before Marie died (about a month before) we had to put to sleep our beloved dog of 14 years, due to kidney failure. My sweetheart Marie knew that she was dying and mentioned to me as well as to our sons, “make sure that dad gets a dog”. Just think about it – here she is on her deathbed and she is showing how much she cared about  me – in my comfort from loneliness – especially after she passed into eternity. I’ve been reading in a book “Confessions of a Grieving Christian” author Zig Ziglar, and just came across a short section “A Companion For My Walks” this morning. As I read it I was reminded of how “God works in mysterious ways”, in this case how He uses a little dog to bring me comfort during this grieving process. Quoting Zig  except for the dogs name “Harley has been an entertaining distraction in times when grief and sadness weighs(my word) heavily on me. He has gone on walks with me, and he has made me laugh over his insistent way of getting me to chase him around the house or throw toys for him to retrieve.” Harley has been a fun filled companion, offering me comforting love and total acceptance, which in the grieving process are very helpful. God has brought unconditional love, many laughable moments, and joy into my life through this little Harley, and I am ever so grateful. All of this shows me how much my sweetheart loved God and me.  I love her more deeply every day. Dad

This will be the first full year that us Brants have to face without Marie; mother to us boys, sister to her remaining brother and sister, grandmother to her grandchildren, great-grandmother to her great-grandchildren, and loving wife and partner to her husband. It is especially hard right now for my wife and I, for she never got to meet her newest grandson. She knew he was on his way though, so I know many prayers were sent to God by her.

It is going to be tough this year for me- I am still in the grieving process. We all are.

I almost feel ashamed of myself at times, because I have yet to really open up the floodgates of tears and weep over the loss of my loving mother. I think of her daily, and how she affected my life in such a rich way. I do not know if this can be normal, but it seems to be a long wait for my grieving to commensurate to it’s full life- I mean, maybe when I do finally break down (I KNOW I will), it will be like the crest of a steep, long hill that I have been struggling to climb for a long time. Maybe then I can relax and not beat myself up over this.

This year, Two Thousand and Eleven, I resolve to not be pessimistic about how I handle loss. I shall let my love for Mom set the tone for how I handle her loss in my life. In due time, I shall let it all out.

Tim

Today, I heard the above words in church service settings. As I talk about them, meditate as to how they might apply in your daily life. Moment: as I heard it, it was describing the birth of Jesus, an angels announcement, our moment of decision throughout life. Miscalculation: again as I heard it, it was used to describe a person driving not knowing there was a patch of ice as they were trying to make a turn and as a result sliding into a snowbank, then it was used to talk about how all of us make miscalculations during our lives and as a result finding ourselves in need of help. Sing: in the Christmas carol “O Come All Ye Faithful” these words “Sing Choirs of angels” and “Sing, all ye citizens of heaven above” I could envision my sweetheart Marie, as a part of the citizenry of heaven singing praises to God. Not only her, but among others -  my Mother, Marie’s Mother and Father, a little child that we lost, a brother of mine, 4 little children that Tom and Michelle lost, many friends and relatives. What a great choir that must be, because each one can sing perfectly, with great passion. Give and Take: at the end of our church service today, it was announced that there were people attending our church that were not able to buy gifts for their family, in some cases there were needs for mattresses to sleep on, and there was a plea to any who could give any cash there would be a basket in the back where people could just give if they wanted to, and then those who had a desperate need could go and take whatever they needed. As I think back about Marie’s life here on earth and now continuing on in heaven for all eternity, she demonstrated so much love in so many ways and I am so grateful to God that He brought us together as husband and wife. It was a great honor to have her walk alongside me for 2/3 of my life. And I rejoice to know that she is a part of that heavenly chorus, and some day I will join her. Love, Dad

I recently replied to the following question posted on a CancerCompass.com message board:

I want to say thank you to all of you.   I appreciate your thoughts, love, prayers, and concerns.  I’m sorry that we all have this terrible bond with pc or cancer in any form.  It sucks.  Hugs forever.   All of you and your families are in my thoughts.

My reply:

Recently I was reading a devotional in a little book that my Mother had titled “God’s Word For Today”, by O. Hallesby, originally published in 1937. As I read it pointed out  that “when God created the universe, He sat quietly on His throne and spoke the word by which everything came forth, … as He willed it. And in governing and preserving the universe….He als sat quietly on His throne. But when He was to save the human fallen race, He could not sit on His throne. He had to descend, He had to come down from heaven. God had to become a man, humble Himself and become obedient unto death.” It goes on to point out that ” none of us was so poor but that a cradle or a crib was ready for our birth, but when Jesus was born, there was no little bed waiting. He was wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger.  And when He was to die, there was no bed. You and i hope that we can be in our own bed when we die. Jesus had to die on a cross. Crucifixion implies that the crucified one is so accursed that he is not permitted to lie on the earth and die. He must hang between heaven and earth. “  As I was meditating on what I read, I also thought back to when my sweetheart Marie was dying – and as I remember, she was so gracious, caring about others even to the very end. Outwardly she seemed to be at total peace ( I believe it was a reflection of the peace deep within her soul). The Thanksgiving season just was so empty without her this year, even though it was a blessing to be with our family. I love her so deeply, will always love her. I know that our sons and their families love her deeply. Dad

I am going to paste something I just read today that we all need to think about seriously. Some day, each of us must face the reality that we will die. Please read with that in mind and take the action needed if you want to be reunited with Mom some day.

The Question for the Canyon’s Edge

by Max Lucado

The canyon of death.

Have you been there? Have you been called to stand at the thin line that separates the living from the dead? Have you lain awake at night listening to machines pumping air in and out of your lungs? Have you watched sickness corrode and atrophy the body of a friend? Have you lingered behind at the cemetery long after the others have left, gazing in disbelief at the metal casket that contains the body that contained the soul of the one you can’t believe is gone?

It is possible that I’m addressing someone who is walking the canyon wall. Someone you love dearly has been called into the unknown and you are alone. Alone with your fears and alone with your doubts. If this is the case, please read the rest of this piece very carefully. Look carefully at the scene described in John 11.

In this scene there are two people: Martha and Jesus. And for all practical purposes they are the only two people in the universe.

Her words were full of despair. “If you had been here … ” She stares into the Master’s face with confused eyes. She’d been strong long enough; now it hurt too badly. Lazarus was dead. Her brother was gone. And the one man who could have made a difference didn’t. He hadn’t even made it for the burial. Something about death makes us accuse God of betrayal. “If God were here there would be no death!” we claim.

You see, if God is God anywhere, he has to be God in the face of death. Pop psychology can deal with depression. Pep talks can deal with pessimism. Prosperity can handle hunger. But only God can deal with our ultimate dilemma—death. And only the God of the Bible has dared to stand on the canyon’s edge and offer an answer. He has to be God in the face of death. If not, he is not God anywhere.

Jesus wasn’t angry at Martha. Perhaps it was his patience that caused her to change her tone from frustration to earnestness. “Even now God will give you whatever you ask.”

Jesus then made one of those claims that place him either on the throne or in the asylum: “Your brother will rise again.”

Martha misunderstood. (Who wouldn’t have?) “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”

That wasn’t what Jesus meant. Don’t miss the context of the next words. Imagine the setting: Jesus has intruded on the enemy’s turf; he’s standing in Satan’s territory, Death Canyon. His stomach turns as he smells the sulfuric stench of the ex-angel, and he winces as he hears the oppressed wails of those trapped in the prison. Satan has been here. He has violated one of God’s creations.
With his foot planted on the serpent’s head, Jesus speaks loudly enough that his words echo off the canyon walls.

“I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die” (John 11:25).

It is a hinge point in history. A chink has been found in death’s armor. The keys to the halls of hell have been claimed. The buzzards scatter and the scorpions scurry as Life confronts death—and wins! The wind stops. A cloud blocks the sun and a bird chirps in the distance while a humiliated snake slithers between the rocks and disappears into the ground.

The stage has been set for a confrontation at Calvary.

But Jesus isn’t through with Martha. With eyes locked on hers he asks the greatest question found in Scripture, a question meant as much for you and me as for Martha.

“Do you believe this?”

Wham! There it is. The bottom line. The dimension that separates Jesus from a thousand gurus and prophets who have come down the pike. The question that drives any responsible listener to absolute obedience to or total rejection of the Christian faith.

“Do you believe this?”

Let the question sink into your heart for a minute. Do you believe that a young, penniless itinerant is larger than your death? Do you truly believe that death is nothing more than an entrance ramp to a new highway?

“Do you believe this?”

Jesus didn’t pose this query as a topic for discussion in Sunday schools. It was never intended to be dealt with while basking in the stained glass sunlight or while seated on padded pews.

No. This is a canyon question. A question which makes sense only during an all-night vigil or in the stillness of smoke-filled waiting rooms. A question that makes sense when all of our props, crutches, and costumes are taken away. For then we must face ourselves as we really are: rudderless humans tailspinning toward disaster. And we are forced to see him for what he claims to be: our only hope.

As much out of desperation as inspiration, Martha said yes. As she studied the tan face of that Galilean carpenter, something told her she’d probably never get closer to the truth than she was right now. So she gave him her hand and let him lead her away from the canyon wall.

“I am the resurrection and the life.… Do you believe this?”

From the newly released
God Came Near: Deluxe Edition
Copyright (Thomas Nelson, 1987) Max Lucad

Last night as I was preparing to go to bed, I was watching a TV program where the guest was telling of a time in her life when she had a nervous breakdown to the point that earlier that day she had been a hostess of a TV program, but something had happened to her dad earlier in life that came back and haunted her that day and she could not handle it by herself, so she went and checked herself into a psychiatric ward of a hospital. She told how she was admitted, everything was taken from her, she was taken to a small room with a bed and a chair in it, given a blanket, was told that she would be on suicide watch that night. She curled up in a fetal position wrapped in a blanket, and at 15 minute intervals some caregiver would come in and check on her. One caregiver came in during the night – it was a male nurse – and handed her a little stuffed lamb, then as he was leaving the room, he looked back at her and told her that “the Shepherd knows where you are.” That reminded her of the great relentless love that God has for her and us. Today will mark 4 months since my sweetheart went home to be with her Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. On July 16, 2010 early that morning, Marie Kathryn Brant was escorted into the “House of the Lord forever” as it says in the 23rd Psalm. Surely He knows where she is, Hallelujah!!! I do to! And she is waiting for my arrival, and yours too. Think about it – are you prepared to be reunited with Mom, more important  with Jesus? Remember – the Shepherd knows where you are. Love, Dad

I awoke from my usual nightmare a little while ago.  During my usual cycle of remembering the cause of my nightmare, I finally realized something.

It is so easy – SO EASY – to think of those who can’t communicate as somehow less able to think, to feel — to forgive.

On September 2nd, I wrote about my complicity in what I felt was an unforgivable act (read about it here).  The last thing I said: “It’s too late to ask Mom’s forgiveness.  Regrets.”

I decided, just now sitting here at 1.35 in the morning, that it’s not too late — that I never really needed to ask Mom’s forgiveness.  You see, she had already granted it.  She couldn’t communicate that forgiveness, but I know Mom, and she would have forgiven — in fact she wouldn’t even have considered that anyone had done her wrong in the first place, sort of an advance forgiveness.

She loved.

That is what we’ve been saying amongst ourselves, this Brant family, for several months.  It’s a shortcut to simply say “she loved”, instead of the more longhand way of telling all the stories, examples, and reasons that she loved.

Because she loved each of us, implicit in that love was her forgiveness, her release of any guilt we might feel about our imperfect care for her in her last months.

You know, it’s pretty juvenile to say this, but:  just because an idea’s in your head doesn’t mean it’s in your heart.

Tonight, the idea moved from head to heart, or at least began its journey to my heart.  The idea?

She loved.  Loved enough to forgive.

Thanks, Mom.  I miss you.

Have you given much thought to what do those words mean to you?  As I reflect on them, Jesus first comes to mind, then among others are my Mom (Stella Brant), my Mother and Father in law (Ora and Arthur Bork), most recently my sweetheart Marie Brant. These that I have mentioned are in Heaven now with Jesus, awaiting our arrival. Each of them have left a lasting imprint on my life in so many ways. As I look around my house, I see so many ways Marie left her imprint, but more important than that I see the imprint on our sons lives, our daughter inlaws lives, and each of our grandchildren’s lives, and on my life. Boy, do I ever miss her, but I know she is in the best place she could be. This month and next month there will be special times – the holidays in particular – when the grieving process might be overwhelming – please pray that God will be not only my portion, but for all our family, and some special friends – the Ripley family – who will be going through this grief process also. If you see any of us cry – just let us cry – understand that it is part of the healing process.  This morning as I took Harley, my new puppy out, I looked into the sky and saw many stars shining brightly and shortly after coming back into the house, I heard the words from a song – “Indescribable” – “You put the stars in place and You know them by name” “You are amazing God”. It sure is good to have reminders throughout the day of our God and His love for us.  Then later this morning these words from a song “There will be a day when I see Jesus face to face” and I thought about that wonderful expectation and promise – then I thought about seeing my sweetheart Marie again. I am really looking forward to that day! Tomorrow at church the names of loved ones who died during this past year will scroll across the screen (Marie’s will be included), and a picture of her will be on a Memorial table for most of November. People will be encouraged to write a name along with a message on note pads which can be attached to a remembering tree. On Tuesday, November 9 there will be a Memorial service at the University of Minnesota for families whose loved ones have donated their bodies for research to the University. Also this month of November, is “Pancreatic cancer Awareness Month”, so many events are scheduled.  As you remember Marie or us or a loved one who has passed into eternity, may you be blessed with an inner peace that can only come from God.

Last night and this morning as I was watching the rescuing of the miners in Chile I couldn’t help thinking about a greater rescue that takes place every time a sinner is rescued by Jesus Christ. It is amazing to watch the rescuing of these miners, just think of all the emotions involved as each man is brought up in this capsule from 2000 feet below the earths surface. Then add to that, they have been down there for 69 days with very little food and water, no sunlight, not being able to see and touch loved ones, etc. Think about the rejoicing going on, the celebration that will take place – then we are reminded in scripture about the rejoicing and celebration in heaven that goes on over one sinner that is brought into the kingdom of Jesus. Even in this time of grief while I grieve over the loss of my sweetheart Marie, I rejoice, knowing that she is with Jesus, and waiting for my arrival, and yours also when Jesus calls you home. Come to think of it – I haven’t really lost her – I know where she is, she has a new address. Rejoice with me that she is finally home! and someday, by God’s grace I will be there also.  Love, Dad

Shepherding

Posted: 17 Sep 2010 11:01 PM PDT

“‘I will feed my my flock, and I will make them lie down,’ says the Lord God.”  Ezekiel 34:15, NKJV

What the shepherd does with the flock, our Shepherd will do with us. He will lead us to the high country. When the pasture is bare down here, God will lead us up there. He will guide us through the gate, out of the flatlands, and up the path of the mountain.

This is exactly what our Savior did for Mom. This was on Max Lucado’s site, and I thought as I read it how it applied to my sweetheart who is in heaven with Jesus and many family and friends who have gone on ahead. It just makes me long to be there.  Dad

A year ago today- that is when Mom was diagnosed with the disease that would bring out so much in all of us.

A year ago today…

Tim

What would Jesus do?  Good question.

Lately, I’ve been feeling rather cynical about a lot of things.

I’ve got a fundraiser ride coming up on Sunday to raise money for Pancreatic cancer research and awareness.  Cynical.  Is the money going to accomplish anything?  Probably not.  Many more will suffer and die of this horrible disease so why do anything…  Is all this work just for nothing?  Sacrifice of my time with my family in the evenings to train.  Spending a lot of money on a new bike – money that could have gone for so many other important things.  Well I guess the bike wasn’t necessary but it sure has helped.

I thought I’d get a side benefit from doing all this riding and actually lose some weight..  Not a single pound.  I don’t get it.  I mean, I read online that if you ride at 12-14 MPH that you’re burning 500-700 calories an hour…  That’s a meal.  So, out of the 2.5 meals I eat a day, shouldn’t one of those be consumed by the rides I do at night – well not every night I guess, but at least 3 times a week since mom died.  On average I probably ride 4-5 hours a week – that’s like 2000 calories – or it’s like skipping all my meals one day a week.  Wouldn’t you think I’d lose some weight???

Work has kinda sucked lately – by sucked I guess I mean, it’s been un-motivational – boring..  I go there and there hasn’t been much to do, so I sit there on the internet and putz around.  Waisting time…  Guess I should be happy to have a job in these economic times but I have been whining about it for quite some time.

So, back to the original question…  WWJD – What Would Jesus Do?

Today when I was walking to the parking ramp after work, I saw a guy standing on a five gallon bucket – on Nicollet Mall.  He was – for lack of better words – preaching to the people on their walks to the bus, parking ramp or wherever they were headed.  He was basically shouting at the top of his lungs – quoting scripture (mostly old testament hellfire and brimstone kind of stuff), mixing in a bit of his own commentary about if you don’t follow Christ, you’re headed to Hell.

I was shaking my head.  This is one of the things that turns people off from Christianity – the shoving it down your throat method of ‘ministry’.  I felt like asking him – “dude, do you know how many people are turning their hearts even further from God because of how you’re doing this?”  So I asked myself, WWJD?   Would he go to some place where there were people going about their business and self post himself above everyone and start shouting about how their headed to Hell??  I don’t think so.

A good friend of mine (David Brisse) and I once had a conversation about Christianity.  He thought that from what I was saying that I was judging him, saying that his brand of christianity is not as good as mine.  He pointed out that some of the nastiest dirtiest bikers that hang out in bars and strip joints would sooner give you the shirt off their back.  He went on and talked about how is preacher (at the time) was going through a scandal where he was caught cheating on his wife.  His PREACHER!!!  How could he preach to them and be ‘doing’ some ladie on the side?  His example of the dirty nasty bikers in his mind was more of what a Christian should be like.

Now, I’m not saying I agree with him in all respects.  But I do believe that we as Christians do a lot to harm “the movement” by trying to preach to people rather than minister to them.  Wouldn’t Jesus have maybe just hung out on Nicollet Mall and tried to make friends – maybe lend a helping hand to an old lady, or offer to carry someones second briefcase (although in this day and age, nobody would trust him).  Would he darken the door of the nasty bar and start in on the people there or would he just hang out and blend?

If you read the bible you see that Jesus drew people to himself, not by being harsh and judging but by showing love.  It says in the bible that “they shall know you are Christians by your love”.  I see this in my wife – and I saw this in mom.  They just show their love and people are intrigued – there’s just something there that people want to be close to.

Why did I mention all the other stuff about my own cynicism?  I guess because I’ve been learning from it.  Learning what really affects me in my heart.  Having to ask myself lately if I’m handling things like I should – am I dealing with the loss of my mom – taking care of my family – am I doing this ride for the right reason.

So, about the ride…  At first I doubted that I could raise even the $150 mandatory amount, but I ‘faithfully’ set a goal of $1000 knowing there’s no way I’d ever get it – not with the minimal people who care about me.  Well, I guess people have ministered to me – they’ve shown me love in so many ways to the point of raising well over $1000 – I may hit $2000 by the time Sunday rolls around.  The day it went over $1000 I almost cried – ok, inside I did cry.  It was humbling.  Why had I doubted the goodness of others?  Perhaps because my own goodness was in question.  Then I got an email from our charity department and work who approved a $600 match.  Also the people at work raised almost $250 through our every Friday “Blue Jean Charity”.  Awesome – people just kept giving and giving.  Will the money mean anything in the end – I may never know.

Losing weight has really been a disappointment for me – I really thought it would work.  But, I have to ask myself again – why am I REALLY doing this?  Is it money – do I want recognition, do I want to get in shape – or is this bigger than me?  It is.

For me this is about mom.  I want no recognition.  I feel like I’ve been given a chance to show love – by riding a simple bike to raise money for a disease my mom died from.  This is something I feel mom would want for me to do – not that anyone else needs to feel this way, it’s just how I’ve come to feel lately – recently.  Early on in her ‘fight’ against cancer, while she was scared, she was very determined.  She would do anything to defeat it if she could – she wanted to live – not just survive.  There have been moments in my training rides where I’ve felt a closeness to her – like she was there telling me to go faster, farther – encouraging me.  It’s been short lived but those few moments were very clear and not fabricated in my mind.

So – WWJD?  my only comment on this is that He would show love – and that’s what I hope to do on Sunday and throughout my life.  I want people to know that I’m a Christian, not because I’m well read on the Bible, or that I know the answer to all their spiritual questions – cause I don’t know them, that’s for sure.  But I want them to know it because I love others and I show it by example.  Remember the song and the phrase that’s so closely associated with mom lately is “She Loved”.  That’s the legacy I want to take part in – how I want to honor her memory.

As I read this little devotional thought this morning, I could’nt help but think of Mom (my beautiful sweetheart). See what you think. “Does not the potter have power over the clay?” Romans 9:21 Anne Graham Lotz  comments in her book “Just Give Me Jesus” Jesus makes suffering understandable: as the Potter, He uses suffering as the pressure on the wet “clay” of our lives. Under His gentle, loving touch, our lives are molded into a “shape” that pleases Him. But the shape that is so skillfully wrought is not enough. He not only desires our lives to be useful, He also wants our character to be radiant. And so He places us in the furnace of affliction until our “colors” are revealed — colors that reflect the beauty of His own character.”  During Moms life here this is what I saw in her, especially as she was “placed in the furnace of affliction”  her colors were revealed. I will always cherish the great honor that I had of having her walk along side me for 50 years plus. Honey! I will always love you!  Ron

“Heaven will be perfect for you, because the One who made both you and it is perfect. Joys you haven’t imagined, ambition you never thought in your wildest dreams you could fulfill, and unending discovery of your new eternal world and its eternal creator are your future. The creator of heaven Himself will show you the wonders of  it. God made us for earth, and He knew we’d love it. He was right. The better country was made for you as well, but it is, by definition, better by far. Just let that sink in. In C.S.Lewis’s classic fiction book, “The Last Battle”, Lewis describes the difference between the old Narnia and new Narnia (heaven).  ” The difference between the old Narnia and the New Narnia was like that. The newer one was a deeper country: every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more. I can’t describe it any better than that: if you ever get there, you will know what I mean. It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right fore-hoof and neighed and then cried: “I have come home at last. This is my real country! I belong here.  This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee—Come further up, come further in.” The beautiful country that the ” great cloud of witnesses” looked forward to is real, tangible, and exciting.”  “If you are a Christian, it is your country; you’re already a citizen. It will be, in a strange way, both new and familiar. Your personal and unique home is there, yours alone, designed for you by the God who loved you enough to die for you and who rose again from the dead as a promise and proof of the resurrection to come.”  From  “A Better Country- Preparing for Heaven” by Dan Schaeffer.  As I read this and meditated on it this morning, I thought of Mom who is there now! I long for to join her in Heaven! How about you? Are you looking forward to joining her there? I know that both she and I would love to have you join us there. Please come and go! Just think of how she is enjoying being there with Jesus, her mom and dad, my mom, the little one that we lost, many friends that have become a part of the “great cloud of witnesses.”

This morning I read the following quote from “Precious Lord, Take My Hand”, meditations for caregivers, by Shelly Beach. “There is nothing I cherish more than the moments of peace I share with my mother. The moments when I take her hand in my own, and our two hands together are clasped in the hand of God.”  As I meditate on those words, my thoughts were drawn back to times when I held my precious wife’s hand while we were caring for her, and yes those were cherished moments when our hands together were clasped in God’s hand. Thank You Lord for those moments and memories. Please wrap your arms around her and tell her how much I love her and always will, and how deeply I miss her and long to be with her forever.

Still awake
I continue to move along
Cultivating my own nonsense
Welcome to the wasteland
Where you’ll find ashes, nothing but ashes
Still awake
Bringing change, bringing movement,
Bringing life
A silent prayer thrown away,
Disappearing in the air
Rising, sinking, raining deep inside me
Nowhere to turn,
I long for a way back home

A sleepless night.

I lay in bed, listening to Radiohead’s “No Surprises”, trying to let myself fall asleep.

It’s kind of a depressing song, and my thoughts turned to Mom’s last days.  Specifically, the day that the hospice nurse taught us how to move Mom from her bed to the bathroom, and back again.

I could see it was a test of wills.  Mom’s deep desire to keep some dignity by being able to go to the toilet, to avoid wearing a “diaper”, to keep her husband and sons from having to clean her up, versus the nurse’s obvious belief that Mom needed to give up and use a diaper.

It hurt Mom, a lot, to have the belt wrapped around her torso so that we could more easily lift her out of the bed.  The whole exercise was exhausting, for her and for us .. physically and mentally.

It really hurt.  Mom couldn’t help but let out a groan or two when I ineptly manhandled her out of the bed and on to the portable toilet.  The journey had only been about twelve inches, but had taken every ounce of my strength, along with that of two of my brothers.

Confessions are supposed to be good for the soul, aren’t they?  The above, my confession of grief for having caused Mom that pain, doesn’t feel good at all.  You see, I can no longer ask Mom’s forgiveness for the pain I caused her that day, entirely needless pain.

I should have said something.  That day, I believe something broke in Mom — call it stubbornness, call it pride, call it dignity — after that, she didn’t have much left.  She became inanimate, almost inert, with a tube placed in her body to help dispose of her urine.

For me, it was beyond sad.  I know, it’s just one more thing she accepted on her journey to the stars… but it grates on me still, to this day.  I wish that I could beg her forgiveness for my part in her pain, in her suffering.  I tell myself that I was only trying to help, but true help would have been me speaking up, expressing my doubts that this was the right course of action; I should have refused to do it.

It’s too late to ask Mom’s forgiveness.  Regrets.

Occasionally, someone will ask me how my Dad’s doing since Mom died.  When I answer, I don’t usually really think about it … I just shrug and say something like “he’s doing OK, I guess”.

But tonight, out of the blue, the thought popped in there … Dad is doing remarkably well, compared to what I expected.

Don’t get me wrong, I think very highly of my Dad … I just couldn’t imagine him doing so well.

I’m sure HE doesn’t think he’s doing so good, but his standards may be too high (or mine could be too low).

Let me tell you about his progress.  He is able to laugh when I tell a “joke” (no small thing, my “jokes” aren’t funny).  He sleeps.  He eats.  He cares for himself.

These are things I wasn’t convinced he could do, to tell the truth.  Taking care of oneself, after fifty years of having someone ever-present, has got to be unbelievably difficult, and he tells us this once in a while.

Dad: even though I don’t call very much, please know that I think of you each day.  I’ve always been proud of you, and my respect for you grows each day.  You are unbelievably awesome, and I love you.

It’s been more than a month since Mom died, and it still seems like … a surprise.  Unreal, even.

I just can’t seem to get in touch with the fact that she’s gone.  So much, yet so little, has changed.

The above was written by my mom when she was nearing her end here on earth. In this writing, she was asking some key people in her life to honor her memory. She was also taking some notes to let the people left behind know of some of her wishes and desires. And, she was also, I believe, dealing with the knowledge she had more than any of us could have known that she had a disease that would soon take over her life completely. I believe that is what the doodling is about.

All of this was on the back of an ordinary envelope. Something that is common to all of us, and most likely something used for note taking purposes by all of us also. Yet, some of the words on this paper had to be hard to write. Not in any way physically; you see she had beautiful handwriting, even up to the point of when we would think someone dealing with what she was dealing with would not care as to how they presented themselves. No, I would think that the words Pastor Dave will do my funeral had to be hard to write because she was definitely acknowledging that she was dying. I can’t even imagine what that would feel like- how to take that in fully, yet with a smile on my face and rejoicing in my heart.

She had rejoicing in her heart and a smile on her face because she KNEW she was headed for her new home in Paradise.

I am going to ask something of all of us. I would like us all to share on this blog any notes we may have taken in handwritten form while Marie Brant was going through this. If anyone has saved any notes they would like to share, about how they were facing this, how they were feeling, or anything, please scan them in and post them.

Mom made it known in handwritten notes some of her thoughts and desires. Shouldn’t we also?

Tim

The last Bork reunion.

Mom was a Bork, before she became a Brant.  She had three brothers and two sisters.

One brother, and one sister, are all that’s left; they each live in different states, hundreds of miles from each other, and from the remainders of their siblings’ families.

So it was decided that this would be the last “official” reunion, at least in Minnesota/Wisconsin.

It seems so many things are ending.  It’s getting pretty hard not to feel discouraged, to tell the truth.  Lost; adrift.  After all, these reunions were one of the “anchors” in our lives, keeping us tied however tenuously to our cousins, aunts, uncles.  Now that Mom’s gone, it’s almost as if that whole branch of our family tree is falling away.

Pruned.

Here is something I read that hopefully will encourage and want us to meditate on.

HOPE

by Max Lucado

It’s one of the most compelling narratives in all of Scripture. So fascinating is the scene, in fact, that Luke opted to record it in detail.

Two disciples are walking down the dusty road to the village of Emmaus. Their talk concerns the crucified Jesus. Their words come slowly, trudging in cadence with the dirge-like pace of their feet.

“I can hardly believe it. He’s gone.”

“What do we do now?”

“It’s Peter’s fault, he shouldn’t have … ”

Just then a stranger comes up from behind and says, “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing you. Who are you discussing?”

They stop and turn. Other travelers make their way around them as the three stand in silence. Finally one of them asks, “Where have you been the last few days? Haven’t you heard about Jesus of Nazareth?” And he continues to tell what has happened. (Luke 24:13-24)

This scene fascinates me—two sincere disciples telling how the last nail has been driven in Israel’s coffin. God, in disguise, listens patiently, his wounded hands buried deeply in his robe. He must have been touched at the faithfulness of this pair. Yet he also must have been a bit chagrined. He had just gone to hell and back to give heaven to earth, and these two were worried about the political situation of Israel.

“But we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.”

But we had hoped … How often have you heard a phrase like that?

“We were hoping the doctor would release him.”
“I had hoped to pass the exam.”
“We had hoped the surgery would get all the tumor.”
“I thought the job was in the bag.”

Words painted gray with disappointment. What we wanted didn’t come. What came, we didn’t want. The result? Shattered hope. The foundation of our world trembles.

We trudge up the road to Emmaus dragging our sandals in the dust, wondering what we did to deserve such a plight. “What kind of God would let me down like this?”

And yet, so tear-filled are our eyes and so limited is our perspective that God could be the fellow walking next to us and we wouldn’t know it.

You see, the problem with our two heavy-hearted friends was not a lack of faith, but a lack of vision. Their petitions were limited to what they could imagine—an earthly kingdom. Had God answered their prayer, had he granted their hope, the Seven-Day War would have started two thousand years earlier and Jesus would have spent the next forty years training his apostles to be cabinet members. You have to wonder if God’s most merciful act is his refusal to answer some of our prayers.

We are not much different than burdened travelers, are we? We roll in the mud of self-pity in the very shadow of the cross. We piously ask for his will and then have the audacity to pout if everything doesn’t go our way. If we would just remember the heavenly body that awaits us, we’d stop complaining that he hasn’t healed this earthly one.

Our problem is not so much that God doesn’t give us what we hope for as it is that we don’t know the right thing for which to hope. (You may want to read that sentence again.)

Hope is not what you expect; it is what you would never dream. It is a wild, improbable tale with a pinch-me-I’m-dreaming ending. It’s Abraham adjusting his bifocals so he can see not his grandson, but his son. It’s Moses standing in the promised land not with Aaron or Miriam at his side, but with Elijah and the transfigured Christ. It’s Zechariah left speechless at the sight of his wife Elizabeth, gray-headed and pregnant. And it is the two Emmaus-bound pilgrims reaching out to take a piece of bread only to see that the hands from which it is offered are pierced.

Hope is not a granted wish or a favor performed; no, it is far greater than that. It is a zany, unpredictable dependence on a God who loves to surprise us out of our socks and be there in the flesh to see our reaction.

From God Came Near: Chronicles of the Christ
Copyright (Thomas Nelson, 1985, 2004) Max Lucado                 Love, Dad

Our lupine plant has it’s very first bloom, and quite late in the season I may add. We each (dad and us four sons & families) got to take home with us a lupine plant as a reminder of our mother and how much she loved gardening, and this particular flower specifically.

I miss her- sometimes, when I am to go and visit dad at the house,  I catch myself referring to the place as ‘mom and dad’s house’- then I think about it for a second, and realize that only dad is there now. However, I feel mom is still there in a way- she left her fingerprints all over the place, and they can’t be removed. So, I will still, without regret or fear, refer to it as mom and dad’s place.

Tim

Mom was a cat person.

You know, I’m having trouble coming up with much to say, or figuring out a way to say … well, anything.  I feel the need to say something, but what??

It’s weird, three weeks ago Mom was dying.  Our family, all of us brothers and our wives and kids, had been hanging out at Mom and Dad’s house as much as possible, and I dare say enjoying each others’ company.

Since then, my perspective has changed, just as it always does.  Mom’s death was not a good thing, but we ended up finding some good, and as we think back, we’ll find even more good.

Mom was good.  I like to think that she’s on the shore of the Crystal Sea, sitting amongst a vast field of lupines.  She’s at peace.

Dad is good.  Like all bereaved husbands, he is feeling … lots of things; terrible loneliness, guilt for wishing she was still by his side, relief, sadness.  Dad, we’re with you.  Our bond has grown stronger, even though we were afraid that after Mom died, everything would change, and not for the better.

Well, things have changed.  For the better, despite our sadness, despite or in the face of our grieving.

I’m not yet ready to fully deal with this.  It’s been about six weeks since I took some last family photos with mom; I still haven’t even loaded the photos onto my computer in order to develop, publish, or print them.  I just can’t face it, even though I know everyone probably wants to see them.

I’m not ashamed to admit this.  I am a forty-eight year old man who is NOT ASHAMED to admit that I loved my Mom, that I miss her, that I grieve for Dad as well as Mom.

But things will get better, glacially slowly.

Isn’t it interesting how sometimes things happen at what seems to be the worst possible time.  Yes, it’s true – when it rains, it pours.  Have you ever noticed though that sometimes when things are going great, they just keep getting better?  Yeah, I know this seems weird – especially at a time like this.

Moms death – was that good timing for anyone?  Were things going well?  Did it happen when you were ready or prepared for it?  In some ways, for me, I feel that I was prepared.  True, I knew it was coming.  In the last days I even felt surprised that she could hang on as long as she did.  Why was this?  I imagine it had something to do with timing.

Her cancer ultimately took everything from her – everything except the life that she had in Christ.  That couldn’t be taken – God owned that.  When she was first diagnosed I couldn’t believe it.  It came at a time when our family was in the throws of dealing with cancer of another family member – Michelle’s dad – Mike.  This affected some of us more or less than others.  For us, it was up front and personal because Mike actually lived with us for several months.  So, I guess when moms cancer diagnosis was made public, it was not a good time for us.

So, Michelle’s dad was dying (nobody quite knew how long he had), and then we were recently shocked (blessed) by the news that Michelle was pregnant.  This was unexpected – and not at a good time since we were dealing with her dad.  Then, we find out about my mom.  Then I got put on part time employment.  When it rains, it pours….

Then a little ray of sunshine happened – Avery was born.  I look at her now and all of the crap that we were going through at the time doesn’t seem real.  It’s not that I’ve forgotten, but I’m blessed with a daily reminder of how good God is – even through the hardest of times.

Just a couple of days after mom passed away, two of our family members got their vehicles hit while parked on the street in front of their house.  They instantly lost their only forms of transportation and now, while dealing with planning a memorial service (as if this wasn’t hard enough) they had to deal with the insurance company – deductibles, paperwork, car rentals, etc…  What a pain – and it couldn’t have been worse timing…

Recently they were rewarded with a replacement value check for one of the vehicles which was considerably higher than what they paid for it.  Does this ever happen????  What a blessing this must have been, after having gone through what they just endured with the memorial service and all the other hassles.  Is this really just dumb luck?  Coincidence?  This extra money wasn’t really just a bonus either – it was needed for other medical expenses.  Who knew??

I’ll probably get in trouble when this ‘family member’ reads this post, but I do find the ‘timing’ of this very interesting.  Again, could it all be just coincidence, or is this perhaps evidence?  Evidence that God IS in control and that he really does understand our needs.  If this is true, there is no doubt that the way God chose to handle this is – shall we say, different than you or I might handle it if we were in control.

This just struck me as being parallel to the scripture which says that God works all things together for the good of his people.  This was not at the best time in OUR life, but it did fit into Gods timing.

I wonder if this is just a small sample of the way God intends to work this entire situation for our good.  By situation, I’m talking about the cancers and death of two of the most important people in our lives.  Mike and Marie.  I cannot imagine that anything good could come from it – but of course I am not in control – I don’t chose the time at which things happen.  It all looks bleak at this point.  We’ve all got a lot to think about – grieving in our own ways.  All of this will take quite some time.  In that time, it is my prayer that we can submit to Gods timing and be open to the possibility that we’ve taken something positive away from this experience.  I did.  I got to care for my mother and father in a way I never knew I could.  I got to pray for them like I never had before.  I saw a glimpse of the depth of my fathers love for my mom.  This was inspiring to me and I thank dad that he was open enough to do it in front of us.  These positives may seem small, but they are something I never forget.

This was found in one of the books that Mom had read, and I pass it on now.

I was regretting the past,And fearing the future. Suddenly my Lord was speaking: My name is I AM. When you live in the past, With its mistakes and regrets, it is hard. I am not there. My name is not I WAS. When you live in the future, With its problems and fears, it is hard. I am not there. My name is not I WILL BE. When you live in this moment, It is not hard. I AM here. My name is I AM.

by Helen Mallicoat

Source: The Silence of Unknowing by Terrence Grant

Mom is in the presence of I AM, seeing HIM face to face.

I think Mom would have wanted us all to remember everything about her that we could. We TRY to remember everything relevant to mom and us, but sometimes we struggle with some memories.

We may forget the date something significant may have happened that would be ‘memory worthy’, or the time it occurred.

We may forget a certain place that a memory was made.

We may, in fact, remember the date, time, and place, but forget the event that MADE the memory.

But, let us not forget this one; Marie Kathryn Brant, loving wife, mother, grand-mother,  great grand-mother, daughter, and sister, is as we speak in no more pain; she is in no more sorrow; she will no longer experience any heartache; sadness will cease to exist; and death will no longer be looming over her. For my mom is more alive now than she has ever been in her life here on earth, thanks to Jesus and His saving grace.

Let us remember ALWAYS the date, time, and event that led to her gaining an eternal life with Whom she has always loved first. For she may have left us in the flesh on July 16th, 2010, at 5:27 AM, but INSTANTLY was granted a renewed life to live forever with the King of kings and Lord of lords.

My mom is with Jesus. She is in Heaven now. Let us remember that.

Tim

“Mom”.

The word means so much, and has so many meanings for each of us.

To me, the word “mom” represents Marie Kathryn Brant.

She was Marie Kathryn Bork, daughter of Arthur and Ora Bork, before she was my mom.

She was Marie Kathryn Brant for fifteen months before she became “Mom”.

Mom married Ronald Esrael Brant on June 25^th, 1960, and began a 50-year journey.  I am not certain how long Mom & Dad knew each other before they married; nor am I sure whether they worked hard, or hardly worked, to become parents.

What I do know is that they both did their very best to be good parents.

They exceeded their goal, and became awesome, loving parents.

Mom is gone from our earthly life now, but she left so many marks on us that she will never be forgotten.

A short time ago, I had the privilege of preparing a slide show for Mom & Dad’s 50^th wedding anniversary celebration.

The photos I sifted through contained evidence of Mom & Dad’s deep love for each other, and for all of their family, and for all the people they knew.

There was Mom, looking sternly at me as I pointed the camera her way.  She had warned me not to take the photo, but did I listen?

There was Mom, long before she became the apple of Dad’s eye, with her own brothers & sisters.

There she was sitting on a tractor in her Sunday best.

There she was, holding her little baby Davey and laughing.

Here she is, in my heart, forever.

Tomorrow, July 23rd, is Mom’s memorial service.

My tasks to prepare for the memorial were to put together a large, framed print of a decent photo of Mom, and to put together a slideshow for display before and after the service.

I had the print all ready to go by Tuesday afternoon, and it’s been sitting here next to my chair since then.  I need only glance to my left a bit, and there’s Mom’s smiling face (it’s the same photo here).

We’re all still thinking of it as “Mom and Dad’s house”, and that is fitting.  I think it’ll always be that way; habits of fifty years’ marriage will do that to you.

This post is all over the place … not really sure what I’m saying, I’m just sayin stuff to be sayin stuff.

The heightened, heavenly being that Mom has become is even more amazing because of the qualities she brought with her.  She is ultimately happy.

Nevertheless, ashamedly, I admit that I want her back here, with us.

All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.

Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin:
I talk of love –a scholar’s parrot may talk Greek–
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.

Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.
I see the chasm. And everything you are was making
My heart into a bridge by which I might get back
From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking.

For this I bless you as the ruin falls. The pains
You give me are more precious than all other gains.

– C.S. Lewis

In his early years, Phil Keaggy put this poem to music; it’s quite striking:

Phil Keaggy, As the Ruin Falls