147 DAYS IN BETWEEN

I wrote ‘147 Days’ in 2015, after Dixie changed her address from Earth to Heaven. A friend recently posted this again on Facebook. And now as I write, 6 years and 147 days have come and gone. I have missed her every day. This next Wednesday, I will help to launch a widow/widower ministry here at TimberRidge, where I live. Twelve are registered. I would prefer not being qualified as I am for this work, yet if our circumstance were reversed, I know it is what Dixie would do.

147 DAYS IN BETWEEN

"It is the time we had dreamed of enjoying together, the time that will no longer be. This is the hard place. For time is pulling me away, leaving me 'in between.'"

YOU MAY HAVE HEARD ME SAY

there are only two kinds of people in church on Sunday. Those who were once broken and those are broken still. And the secret is for the 'once broken' to stand by the 'broken still' until the healing love and Spirit of Jesus makes us all strong together in him.

????It's true. Church for me has always been about life. Life that is not about race or culture, wealth or power. It's about 'broken.' Sooner or later we all arrive at 'broken.' Maybe you are there now.

LIFE IS THE GREAT LEVELER

for we are born not of our own choosing and we die, not of our own choosing. It is the spaces 'in between' that are our own choosing. How shall we live? What will we learn? Where will we go? Who will show us the way? What will our legacy be?

????Life is about the 'in betweens' of spiritual nourishment, a stimulus do good deeds, linking those once broken to the broken still. Abundant life does not show itself in abundant dreaming, but rather in abundant living among real things and real people.

????In every village where Jesus walked there was someone waiting to be helped. His pulpit was just as easily a hillside as a synagogue. His congregation a woman at the well or a young couple getting married for the first time; a poor beggar with nothing at all or a young man of great wealth; a socially acceptable citizen or a looked down upon sinner; an IRS agent; a fisherman. These were his people. They still are. You still are.

DIXIE AND I

are fruit of the church. We've devoted our lives to serving God and others through the church. We've lived the 'in betweens,' broken with others, reshaped and broken again, over and over. Church for us was never the end in itself, always a means to an end. Never buildings built. Always people broken and made whole again. This is what 'real church' means to me.

????It means lives redeemed by the Giver of life, built on a solid foundation with good upbringing, rich experiences with a mate whom we cherish and children we treasure. It means people in whom we've invested, lives we've walked with in the 'broken,' all in the name of One-Who-Changes-Everything, "who executes justice for the oppressed, who gives food to the hungry … who sets the prisoners free.”[1]

2015 HAS BEEN FOR ME

a year of great sadness and great thankfulness. We've been blessed with new life in our family. His name is Finnigan. Fin for short. Another beautiful great grandson.

????Dixie held him in her arms on his first day, pouring every ounce of love into the brief time she knew was remaining for her. Now she is gone.

????We celebrated her birthday without her this year at the place where together we celebrated her last. We missed her. We celebrated Thanksgiving without her this year. Enchiladas instead of turkey. And we celebrated Christmas without her this year. Turkey instead of enchiladas. We missed her again both times.

????Perhaps in Heaven she glimpsed our menu on Thanksgiving and laughed, saying to someone nearby, "He finally got his wish!" At Christmas she may have smiled as we opened gifts and acted like the children we are, thinking all the while to herself, "If you only knew what I know now …” This is the one I chose to live my life with, and she with me, through all of our 'in betweens.' Great choices. 'Real church.' Purposeful lives.

AS I LOOK AT THE YEAR AHEAD,

the prayer that comes to mind is the prayer of the Breton fishermen:

Dear God,

be good to me.

The sea is so wide

and my boat is so small.

WHAT LIES BEYOND?????????

what I can see or control, I'm not sure. New goals, yes. New challenges, perhaps. New opportunities to be 'real church.' To be broken with others and reshaped again, over and over until the Master Potter is able to say, "Well done." And I am able to say, "Because I am righteous I will see you. When I awake, I will see you face to face and be satisfied."[2]

Remember, God loves those of us who have been broken. And he loves those of us who are broken still.

Until next time, I wish you a very Happy New Year!

May Jesus keep us close.

[1] Psalm 146:7

[2] Psalm 17:15 NLB