CREATE A MILESTONE
A milestone is anything I can put on my hurting friend’s calendar that, when they see it, will cause them to say, “I can make it until July because I’ll get to go do ‘that’.’ The ‘that’ could be a picnic, a lunch, a concert, a trip. The power of a milestone can’t be underestimated.
My sister, Nancy, spent some time in medical school on the island of Grenada during the time my mother was battling cancer. For those of you near or around my age, you probably recall what happened in the early 80’s with the events on Grenada. There was an attempted ‘coup’ on the island, widespread bloodshed, and the students and faculty of the American Medical School there were in harms way. There was a short window of time for our military to go in and evacuate the several hundred Americans. My sister was one of the last to board a military chopper inside the hot zone. She had been trapped on another part of the island with a few other students and it took a while for our soldiers to find them and secure the area. All this time, our family was glued to the news programs, waiting to see pictures of my sister getting off the C140 airlift plane at Fort Bragg, NC. Finally, days after the evacuation started, she made it.
I’d like to tell you what was happening to my mother. Her health and strength had regressed and she spent much of her days sleeping. However, when Nancy was scheduled to come home, her strength revived. The morning my sister was to arrive by plane, my mother got up, showered, put on a nice outfit, and looked/acted completely healthy. She not only went to the airport but kept up (for a time) with all the celebrations and outings that were given in honor of my Nancy’s homecoming. How could she do that? Because of the power of a milestone. It was life giving.
What is it you can plan for someone who is declining, one who is losing hope? Maybe it’s to keep a single mother’s child for a day or a weekend. Maybe it’s to take someone who is housebound on a long drive through the country. Maybe it’s to take a music lover to a symphony. Maybe it’s to treat someone to a nice lunch at their favorite restaurant. Maybe it’s to take someone suffering from Alzheimers on a walk outdoors. We take for granted the freedom to get out of the house, get some fresh air and feel energized. The goal is to offer something that will help someone in decline, physically or emotionally, rally for a time because they have something to look forward to.
The Apostle Paul told the church leaders at Ephesus these parting words. “In all things I have shown you that by working hard in this way we must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he himself said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’” Acts 20:36 To remember the weak, the frail, the sick, the orphans and widows…we are not only inviting the favor of God on our lives but we bestow the favor of God on theirs! When the milestone is behind them, it is not over for them. They re-live it as a defining moment when God’s presence intersected their lives at a time when they probably felt forgotten.
Lord, show me what to do and for whom to do it. Amen
When my mother lived out her two year battle with cancer, I was blessed to live less than two hours away and could visit her every few weeks. On those days, I made a habit of stopping at a store in upstate New York called The Silver Strawberry. It was the place to go if you needed silk or dried flowers, baskets, pots and mosses. My mother liked to go and browse there, often coming home with the makings for a small flower arrangement. When she was no longer able to easily leave the house, I created a ritual for our visits. I’d stop at the store on the way to visit her and purchase everything we’d need to create an arrangement together. This became our shared experience for the day. She’d have the coffee ready when I pulled in the yard. As she became too weak to participate, she’d take a nap, I’d make the arrangement by myself, and watch her face get excited when it was time to see it.
Some things can only be done effectively in private. I think about Joseph who was overcome by the sight of his brothers after so many years apart. He was Vice-chancellor of Egypt but they didn’t yet know it was him. Joseph was trying to contain his emotions at the sight of them; understandable since they were the very ones who had treated him cruelly and sold him into slavery. So he excused himself from the feast and here’s the verse that references it. Genesis 43:30 Then Joseph hurried out, for his compassion grew warm for his brother, and he sought a place to weep. So he entered his chamber and wept there.
When we consider the well known phrase, “I’m sorry for your loss,” the context is usually a funeral. There are so many other kinds of losses to be grieved though. Loss of a home, loss of a job, loss of good health, loss of a marriage, loss of the ability to bear children, loss of trust, even loss of innocence. With each kind there is grieving to be done.
As I always should, I look to Jesus to show me how He gave empathy first and answers last. The most obvious story is the one where Jesus wept tears of grief at the gravesite of His friend, Lazarus. He didn’t give a eulogy about Lazarus or a sermon on death’s curse. He heard the wailing and entered in to weep deeply with Mary and Martha. Jesus is our great High Priest. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Hebrews 4:15 What’s comforting about that is Jesus knows how I feel because He subjected Himself to life in this world. He could have stayed in heaven, continued to inspire writers to pen scripture, and assure mankind that He knows how the human body handles pain because He created us. That would have been only mildly comforting. He knew I needed more than a God who just understands how I am wired. I needed an Emmanuel who would show me that He understands the complex emotional landscape of human beings. As the incarnate God, He modeled a rich emotional life with displays of grief, joy, and everything in between. I am a stoic by comparison.
Pain isolates us from other people and we begin to believe that no one has ever gone through what we are experiencing and that what we are feeling is unique. We feel lonely. Is there anything worse than believing you are alone and no one cares or understands?