May 7 – “Spewage happens”

Spewage.  No, that’s not misspelled.  I’m not talking about the stinky stuff.  Spewage is usually delivered in an unexpected burst rather than through a neatly devised system of pipes and pumps.  There are many forms of spewage, though.  Perhaps the most inventive I have ever seen, in fact, involved a dual delivery system.  OK.  Had enough of the mystery?  Chomping at the bit to hear more specifics about this enigmatic phenomenon?  If you are chomping at anything, perhaps you should swallow before you continue.  There.  Now … spewage.  How to impart a definition for an occurrence so universal, yet so … so … frowned upon?  Spewage might be defined as the unintentional discharge of liquid or solid particles of sustenance from orifices of the body not generally intended to be points of expulsion.  Whew.  Had to work hard to get that one out.  I think you know what I’m talking about here.  You have just taken a bite of some great Homemade vanilla Blue Bell, or perhaps a swig of your first coffee in the morning.  You have had it in your mouth just long enough for the succulent juices to flow over those taste buds on your tongue.  And someone says just the right thing – the right funny thing - that invades your pleasurable moment of enjoyment.  Every instinct within you is in conflict.  On the one hand you know that you are still a good two or three seconds away from that final, delectable moment when you actually make you swallow, savoring the flavor all the way down.  But on the other hand, you have always been one to appreciate those random, hysterical moments that might not seem funny to anyone else, but at the time it seems that the most hilarious scenario is being played out before your very eyes.  And who wouldn’t let out one of those good, deep, from the belly, beyond a chuckle yet not quite a fully developed laugh?  And the two drives clash, just beneath the surface.  Swallow, then laugh.  But it is so funny.  Swallow, then laugh.  I can’t hold back.  Swallow, then laugh.  It’s coming.  All this taking place in the split seconds before … spewage.  Whatever self-control you thought you had disappears, along with whatever remnants of coffee or ice cream you were still harboring.  Some explodes through your now open mouth.  In a full-blown, out-of-control spewage, some manages to make its way through your nasal passages, only to leak out, or be expelled in a less-than-dainty fashion.  And after the spewage?  Ordinarily then comes the downright laughter.  You forget what it was that made you spew in the first place, because there is nothing quite like the embarrassment of having committed spewage in public.  On the one hand you are mortified.  On the other, you have just played a part in what was most assuredly the funniest thing that has happened in your vicinity since … since … that last time someone spewed.  You remember?  It was …  And so the spewage stories begin. 

And why such a treatise on spewage so early in the morning?  Well … OK, so I spewed yesterday.  Chris and I were in the kitchen talking.  I was enjoying a fresh cup of coffee, and had just taken a long swig.  And she made the comment that we should really take down a picture we have had on out fridge.  Now, there is nothing wrong with the picture.  It is of two very good friends of ours we have known since seminary days.  And there is certainly nothing wrong with the folks in the picture.  I think she just wanted to make some room for some more grandchildren art or something.  But for some insane reason, that simple statement struck me as funny.  I don’t know why.  Perhaps it was the silly grin on the face of the guy in the photo.  Perhaps I remembered some fond goofiness of days gone by.  Honestly, I have no idea why it seemed so funny.  But spewage happens.  Often for no reason at all.  Now, it wasn’t the nose-leaking kind of spew this time.  Just a simple spray whatever is in front of you spew.  Coffee flew.  All over the fridge – and the picture of our friends.  All over the floor.  Oh.  Did I mention that Chris was standing within range of my involuntary spewage seek and be-spew monitor.  Yep.  Got her.  And then?  We laughed.  And laughed.  We gave in to those from-the-belly explosions of mirth.  We laughed so hard Cailyn came in from the other room to see what she missed out on.  Ah.  It was good to laugh like that again.  Really good.

Proverbs 17:22 says, “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.”

Father, thank you for the gift of laughter.  Nothing quite like it.  Amen.

May 6 – “Pondering a mystery”

Chris found Cailyn back in Mom’s room yesterday.  They weren’t playing hide and seek or anything like that.  Cailyn had just meandered back that direction and was standing pensively in the room, looking around.  As Chris walked in and their eyes met, she noticed just the trace of a tear in her eye and a not-troubled, but perhaps a bit confused look on her face.  Wisely she waited for Cailyn to initiate the conversation.  That didn’t take long.  She took a deep breath and one last long look around the room.  Letting out the breath slowly, she pondered, “It’s weird, Nani.  Just weird.  MeeMaw isn’t here anymore, but …”  At this she tapped her own chest slowly and continued, “she’s still here.”  Yes, my little one.  That is one of the many mysteries of love.

I made a commitment to myself this past weekend.  On Monday (that would be yesterday) I would reserve the entire day for family contact only.  I did do some work on the sermon for Sunday, and I did actually look through a few of the emails I have missed over the course of the last few weeks with Mom.  But that primarily meant leaving the phones alone and trying to be available to talk to Chris at any time during the day.  She is still having some pretty painful muscle spasms in her back.  Motrin helps some, but she is moving pretty slowly. 

We did manage to make it over to Cailyn’s school play, though.  Twice.  It was a Cinco de Mayo observation.  The kids had learned Mexican dances and were performing them for each other and for their parents.  Even her pre-K class was involved, and of course Cailyn was the best dancer of them all.  Dressed in the brightly colored skirt and white blouse they loaned her, she made sure her less-than-enthusiastic partner followed her every move.  She was quite proud of her twirls and swings.  I thought it was interesting that at the parents’ version of the play they made all the introductions of dances in Spanish and English.  Made the whole thing last a lot longer than it should have, I thought.  I also thought we were going to be banned from the one they did during the school day.  We came up to watch it and record it, because Nathan was on shift and April is never completely sure when she will get off work.  We checked in at the office as dutiful grandparents, and were told that parents were not allowed to come to the daytime performance.  And that was all it took for us to dig in our heels.  We never said a word.  We just didn’t leave.  The secretary who was rebuffing us just kept on talking, though.  After fumbling around trying to come up with some valid reason for us to not be there, she finally hit on, “When all the children are in the gym there is just not enough room for parents.”  Still we never said a word and didn’t make any move to leave.  Another lady walked in, and the first one looked to her for some help.  She replied, “If they call, I have been telling them no.  But if they are already here …” And she ended with a shrug of her shoulders.  Good enough for me.  We sat down to wait.  As it turned out, we were not the only ones.  Several other sets of parents arrived, but we couldn’t tell what they were told.  Every single conversation was held in Spanish.  Guess that was the secret, being Cinco de Mayo and all.  There was plenty of room in the gym, by the way.  And we got the video with no problem. 

Psalms 30:11-12 says, “You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.  O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever.”

Father, thank you for dancing and music and celebrations.  Gives us kind of a preview of heaven, I think.  Amen.

May 5 – “The Main Thing”

After church yesterday and a few hours of crashing on the couch, I went to another funeral.  I saw in the paper that the mother of a girl I went to high school with had died about five days after Mom did.  The funeral service was scheduled to be held at the old Lutheran church around the corner from my house. At least when I was growing up it used to be a Lutheran church.  Now it is some kind of conference center run by that denomination. 

My plan was to sneak in the back quietly.  Then maybe give Joanne a quick hug right after the service and walk back home.  The first part worked well enough.  Other than the funeral home people recognizing me and giving me a hug and offering their condolences.  Sweet people.  Then when I went into the sanctuary, I saw Gerry, the guy who used to be pastor at that church.  He retired years ago due to ill health, but he was the kind of guy who used to walk around the neighborhood just to talk to people.  He and his wife would organize different kinds of old German street festivals where they would block off streets and invite in bands and have barbeques.  Great folks.  He recognized me right off, so we talked a few minutes.  I finally took a seat right behind another girl from high school, but she didn’t see me.  Well, at least she didn’t recognize me. 

Ray Pinard, chaplain to every old person on Galveston Island, led the service.  Each of the four children had some things to say in the eulogy time, so I was able to locate Joanne and begin making plans for my quick hug and exit plan.  Everyone who spoke mentioned some aspect of the lady’s Christian faith and how she lived it out as an example.  Several of them quoted or read scriptures that were her personal favorites.  I especially got a kick out of the brother who remembered kneeling around their Mom and Dad’s bed and saying prayers, one of which was in Swedish.  He said none of the completely understood what it meant, but boy did they ever learn it.  He started quoting it, and before he finished, all the siblings and, it sounded like some of the grandchildren, had joined him in a sort of legacy of prayer.  As the last speaker finished, Ray led us all in the Apostles’ Creed.  All that was left was the Lord’s Prayer and benediction.  But apparently Ray had noticed the other two pastors in the crowd.  He blindsided both of us and called for both of us to come to the front, hold hands with him, and together we led in the Lord’s Prayer.  Joanne’s head whipped around as she mouthed, “Kelley Vaughan?  What is he doing here?”  Patty, my other classmate, was quite surprised as well, especially when it became apparent that I had been sitting right behind her the whole time.  As unexpected as it was, I thought it was a really cool expression of the kind of solidarity that matters.  See, Ray is a Methodist.  Gerry is a Lutheran.  I am a Baptist.  Together we were standing for Jesus.  That’s what I like.  Focus on the main thing, not the different things. 

I found out after the service that not only had the family gone through this death of a mother just 13 days shy of her 100^th birthday, but they also had just had a wedding of one of her grandchildren the night before.  And the couple had insisted on staying for the funeral.  Wow.  Joy tinged with sadness.  What an incredible start to that marriage. 

Ephesians 4:2-6 says, “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.  Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.  There is one body and one Spirit— just as you were called to one hope when you were called— one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.”

Father, thank you for the unity of your Spirit.  Walk with Joanne and her family through their experience of grief mixed with joy.  Amen.

May 4 – “Pokemon and pine cones”

Chris and I had an interesting morning.  we got up early and headed over to LaMarque to watch Josiah and Noa while Kel and Christina while their Mom and Dad ran some errands with the other two.  It was not at all difficult.  Chris rocked Noa to sleep for her morning nap and I slept through … er … watched an episode of Pokemon with Josiah.  I still haven’t figured out which little creature is Pokemon.  The whole thing just looks … weird to me. 

Before I dozed off, Josiah and I were talking.  Well, I was mainly listening to him talk.  For a three year old he has a lot to say.  He brought up Mom’s funeral, so I asked him what he remembered about it.  He didn’t hesitate at all in answering.  He said, “Pine cones.  There were pine cones everywhere.”  Not at all what I expected.  But to punctuate his choice, he ran to the shelf and returned with … a pine cone, of course.  And he was right.  The cemetery grounds were indeed covered with pine cones.  And this from the little guy who pitched in and helped the pall bearers “carry MeeMaw” like his big brother Micah had done at the funeral home.  That was a picture to cherish.

Aaaaaaand … just when I thought our stress level might decrease just a little bit … we got word that Chris’ Dad (the guy who adopted her when she was a baby.  More info than that on her family situation would take too long to tell about here) is not doing too well.  Her brother was with him at the emergency room in Victoria where he was being treated for mysterious pains in his abdomen and lingering pneumonia.  How’s that for being a little too close to home?  Chris is now embroiled in the struggle of the siblings to find an appropriate nursing facility for their Dad for after he is released from the hospital.  To their credit, though, the siblings seem to be doing a pretty good job of getting a handle on things.  I’m not so sure I can talk Chris into taking a trip any time soon, though.  At least not until he is settled in.  Sigh.  Here we go again.

On the home front, I checked with my brothers on what their thoughts were concerning going through Mom’s clothes and things, and how they want to deal with them.  I imagine we’ll have to get together and just wade through what we have here.  Not that it’s so much stuff.  Hurricane Ike took care of clearing out most of the peripherals.  They both agreed, so we’ll be facing that next step sometime in the near future. 

2 Peter 1:5-7 says, “For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love.”

Father, I get the whole perseverance thing.  It’s just that it takes so long.  Thanks for walking through it with us.  Amen.

May 3 – “Snake Sighting Rules”

We finally had a semi-quiet day yesterday.  Chris spent some time out in the yard, which she has been wanting to do for weeks.  I started wading through all the sympathy cards and notes attached to flowers that we received, as well as the sign-in list from the viewing and funeral, so that I could make a master list and eventually get started on thank you notes.  That looms as somewhat of a daunting task.  I’m counting on my brothers to know who some of these people are, though.  I sure have no idea on some of them.  Most of the names seem to be falling nicely into categories.  Family.  Neighbors.  Friends.  Organizations.  Fascinating how we can “fit” our relationships into categories like that. 

We also drove out to Seaside to vote.  No particular reason why we went all the way out there other than … we could.  They even asked us why we drove so far.  That was actually kind of funny.  I paused for a second or two before I answered, “Well, I’m the pastor here.”  The poor lady who asked was mortified and embarrassed.  No reason she should have known, though.  Her co-workers did tease her a bit more, though.  Another worker confessed that she had read through one of the books she had found in a box outside my office.  It was one of the copies of the Gospel of John that we gave away at the sunrise service.  I assured her that she could not only read it.  She could keep it and take as many as she wanted with her to give away to friends and relatives.  She replied, “Maybe should have just been giving them to people as they came in to vote.”  That got the attention of the election judge sitting nearby.  I assured him that although that was perfectly fine with me, they might face more than a little bit of opposition if they tried it in this context.  The judge quickly, but good-naturedly chimed in with some quote about separating church and state.  Then he added, “But I think I will take a few home to my grandkids.” 

Sigh.  All in all it sounds like we had a pretty boring day.  Nice.  I guess I need to spice it up a little bit, so here’s a quick Cailyn anecdote from some weeks ago.  She and I were taking a walk along the sidewalk.  As we passed an overgrown part of 40 Steps (our affectionate family name for the vacant lot next door), Cailyn stopped and stared at it for a few seconds, then said,

“Daddy said if I ever see a snake to come get him and he’ll kill it with his gun.” 

I assured her that was always a good response to a snake sighting.  I squared up my shoulders and continued as strongly as I could sound,

“If you see one while you are here with us, you be sure and come tell me and I’ll take care of it.”

Cailyn looked up at me those beautiful, brown, adoring eyes, patted me on the hand and said,

“Yeah, DadDad.  I’ll get you and then we can FaceTime my Daddy together.”

John 15:9-11 says, “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.”

Father, thank you for little joys that add up to overcoming delight.  Amen.

May 2 – “Just for the good of mankind”

I had quite the introduction back into water therapy yesterday.   Oh, it was nothing official or anything like that.  In fact only three of us were around to even hear it.  But it was kind of fun anyway.  And I needed “kind of fun.”  It was really hard to get motivated to even go to the class.  Josh and Christi were still here.  Cailyn was coming over for us to take her to school.  Not to mention I was still pretty tired.  Not exactly as exhausted as I had been, but really tired nonetheless. 

I arrived at my usual time and went into the bathroom to change.  And as I entered I realized right away that I had stumbled upon a discussion / argument.  Two guys from the class before mine were deeply embroiled in a debate about big pharmaceutical companies and how they are in it just to make money.  Actually one guy was really on a tear and the other guy was either baiting him or simply not doing too well defending his side.  Either way, the guy behind the dressing screen was obviously winning.  He finally threw out this obviously sarcastic barb: “Nobody ever does anything just for the good of mankind.”  At that the other guy pretty much realized he was outmatched, and he didn’t know what to say next.  He just looked over at me and shrugged his shoulders with a sheepish grin.  I did my best to stay out of it, but I just couldn’t pass that one up.  So as I walked out the door, I offered, “You know, somebody did something just for the good of mankind once.  And they killed him.  But then he rose from the dead.”  The outmatched guy’s grin grew into a broad smile as I walked through the door.  Didn’t hear any response from behind the screen, though.

Later on that afternoon I realized that we forgot the suitcase full of props at the funeral home, so Cailyn and I went over there to pick it up.  Props?  Just little object lesson kind of reminders that I used in the funeral the day before.  A baseball.  A stuffed frog.  A wiffle ball.  An atlas.  Christi told me that I got Josh in trouble with his oldest son.  Zak wanted to know why his daddy doesn’t do that kind of thing in his sermons.  I consider that the highest praise ever. 

Romans 12:12 says, “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.”

Jesus, thank you that you did have the “good of mankind” at heart when you died and rose from the dead.  Sure changed my life.  Amen.

May 1 – “That’s My Mom”

Whew.  I’m kind of glad to be writing the name of a new month this morning.  It has really been a long April.  The services for celebrating Mom’s life yesterday went really well.  Even more folks than came to the viewing, so I would say we probably have quite a few full pages in the guest book.  Several more fire fighters were there, along with the chief and assistant chief.  The chief even wore his full dress uniform.  Mom would have gotten a kick out of that.  Each of Mom’s grandchildren had a part in the service.  Tim led everything off by playing some music on his guitar.  Kel and Josh each read a Scripture and prayed.  Becky read the obituary.  Serena read scripture.  Amy led in the Lord’s Prayer, and Nathan led in the 23^rd Psalm.  All of them did a tremendous job.  The great-grandkids kind of surprised everybody when they all joined me on the floor at the front of the room for a rousing rendition of “Jesus Loves Me.”  One of my personal favorite poignant moments came when Micah joined in to help the pall bearers carry the casket to the hearse.  Very sweet picture. 

Rather than rehash the whole rest of the service, I thought I’d include my top ten “That’s My Mom” moments today:

10.  Mom spent many anniversaries watching me play baseball (That’s the problem with a June anniversary in Galveston.  It’s baseball season).  It was sure good to look up into the stands and see her sitting there.  That’s my Mom.

9.  Mom was incredibly supportive of my addiction to all things baseball.  She didn’t even throw away my baseball cards when I went to college.  I have quite the collection now because of her.  Of course the support didn’t help my skill level any.  She did everything she could think of to help me, though.  Especially with my hitting.  Or lack thereof.  She even tried bribing me.  Offered me five dollars for every home run I hit.  Now that’s really generous for 1963.  I looked it up.  $5 in 1963 would be equal to something like $38 now.  Of course from their perspective I guess it was a pretty safe bet.  They sure never had to pay off on that one.  That’s my Mom.

8.  Realizing that the bribe wasn’t going to work, Mom decided to take a different approach.  Hands on practice time at home.  She and I went into the garage with a wiffle ball and bat.  She decided she would pitch to me so I could get in a few extra swings.  Again, with my batting average, I’m sure she felt like she was perfectly safe.  And of course the unthinkable happened.  I actually connected with one.  Beautiful line drive.  Smacked her right in the eye.  She had a big old shiner for weeks.  That’s my Mom.

7.  When I left the Episcopal church to become a Baptist.  She was totally supportive.  Just asked one thing of me.  “You tell the priest.”  I figured that would never happen.  Until he drove up that very afternoon.  He had never been to our house before.  Why today?  Mom answered the door and said, “Hi!  Kelley has been wanting to talk to you.”  And she left the room.  That’s my Mom. 

6.  She went on vacation with us one year.  We went up to the Dakotas, then across to Washington State, down through California, and back across to Texas.  Mom started that trip with an awestruck “Look at the mountains.  Oh, my aching back” as we drove through … Oklahoma (yep.  Oklahoma.  But remember, she never left the island much).  Things changed a bit when we drove through the switchbacks on the western slopes of the Rocky Mountains.   As she held on with a death grip to the headrest of the driver’s seat, she not-so-calmly commented over and over, “Oh my aching back!  Look at that!  Not you, Kelley.  You look at the road.” Followed by an abrupt Gibbs slap to the back of my head.  That’s my Mom.

5.  She really enjoyed coming out to Seaside Church where I am pastor.  Not so much to hear me preach or anything like that.  She just loved being the consummate hostess - introducing herself to people and proudly telling them “I’m the pastor’s mother.”  That’s my Mom.

4.  I always looked forward to Halloween in Gulf Village.  The homeowners would often dress up themselves to greet the kids and give them some candy.  And Mom was always one of the first ones out on the front porch, always dressed up in her witch hat and black robe, sometimes with a strap-on hag nose.  Now we live in the house across the street from the one I grew up in there in Gulf Village.  Halloween is still the same.  And to this day, we get adults who grew up in the area who come by the house asking, “Where is that witch who was always out across the street?”  And I proudly answer, “That’s my Mom.”

3.  Mom was a collector.  She lost a lot of her collection in Hurricane Ike, but I remember some of her collections.  How about the Siamese cats?  She had figurines of all shapes and sizes of Siamese cats.  When she got tired of that project she switched to frogs for some reason.  Stuffed frogs.  Ceramic frogs.  Frogs that talked.  I remember those frogs she crocheted.  Anybody get one of those?  She could crochet almost anything.  And most of what she crocheted, she gave away.  We still have Christmas ornaments that she made – Big Bird, Ernie, Cookie Monster.  Mom enjoyed just making people happy, didn’t she?  That’s my Mom. 

2.  When we got her to the hospital and she was finally admitted, she asked for only 3 things: her purse (which we assured her we would take care of), her clip-on sunglasses, and her purple stocking cap.  And she wore them.  She was the hit of the ICU.  That’s my Mom.

1.  I have to say that the number one Mom moment for me happened when I was a senior in high school.  I was going with the Baptists on a trip they were taking so I could hang out with my girlfriend.  Mom took me to the church.  I asked where my girlfriend was and found out she wasn’t coming.  I walked to car and told Mom I wouldn’t be going after all because Debbie wasn’t coming.  She smiled sweetly … and drove off.  That’s the weekend I discovered that God loved me personally.  Changed my life.  That’s my Mom. 

Psalms 100:1-2 says, “Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth.  Worship the Lord with gladness; come before him with joyful songs.”

Father, thank you once again for all the expressions of love we experienced yesterday.  People driving all the way from Arlington just to say they love us and they understand.  Wow.  You have done some amazing things in people.  Keep on blessing them.  Amen.