Plans and Intentions

I woke up this morning to a beautiful day, sun shining, lawn glistening, looking out the window…everything beautiful.

I noticed my windows need washing and I noticed there was spider webs everywhere, strung from any number of launching places; they too were glistening in the sunshine wet with a bit of dew.    Normally I would have gone out with my broom and swept them all away…but I noticed the spider.  

Have you ever watched a spider weaving his web?  It is a work of art, each thread placed on purpose, with clear intent.  And he keeps going despite the vastness of his job, he simply keeps on keeping on, spinning threads, from here to there, up, across and dropping down.  He has a plan and he is intent on completing it.

This never ending spinning plan is reminding me of the plans I am in the midst of right now, weaving arrangements for my Dads funeral.  It seems a vast job, well, not a job…an honor; an honor to put the final plans to a life well lived, but still vast and deep and hard, hard plans, threads being woven with intention of love.

I am also in the midst of a purchase for a new home, plans being woven in my mind, new ideas; threads of plans and intentions.  But circumstances happen, time gets away and I can see the broom nearby, ready to be picked up to sweep away the web I have been weaving.

I can see it happening, all my plans and intentions torn apart, leaving threads hanging, but I hope not…I pray not and despite the vastness of it, my plan is to keep on keeping on.

   

The spider in my window is still weaving and I will not be taking him down, sweeping away his heart and soul plans.  I will watch him to the end, spinning and weaving, loving his plans, watching them become what he has intended.

Dash his plans, sweep away his dreams?  No, not this time.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD "plans to prosper you 

and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future"

Jeremiah 29:11

I love that.

One Last Breath

My Dad had been such a strong man for so long, full of hard work and full of pride.  Strong hands, strong minded...and simply wanting some confirmation that he was a good man...he was.

Last week my dad was talking one thousand words, he was talking the words of a man who stood alone but not really alone, even though he didn’t know it these last five days we never left his side, day or night…although maybe he did.  Maybe he did know.

Ahh, life is hard; God never did promise it would be easy. Dad fought a long hard battle, fifteen years of a heart suffering with failure and then in turn more aches and pains, burdens overtaking his body, pains and sores overflowing with blood sweat and tears…blood, sweat and tears. 

God never did promise it would be easy.

Dad wanted it easier, don’t we all, we want to have it easy, but life isn’t that way.   Life is filled with trouble, hard knocks and sad stories.  We all have a story; if we listen we will hear the stories that fill the air all around us, stories that bump into each other in the spaces of our breathing in and out.  Stories that float like clouds over the heads of those we pass every day. We passed through them on the way to Dad’s room, into the staircases and elevators, through the halls, past the rooms whose doors opened to the hallways and all of them speaking into the air that we were walking through; breathing them in.

Breathing in and out, in and out, shallow, rapid, slow…crackling, bubbling, in and out, so hard to hear, so hard to watch, so hard to bear…my Dad’s breath, telling the story of the suffering we have known these last years, these last days, the last moments of his last story.

Part of his last story was how he reconciled to God, how the Chaplain came and ministered to him, prayed with him and listened to the words Dad had to tell, words that were still known, words that came before the one thousand words we couldn’t understand.

 

What a blessing for my Mom to hear the story, the better part, the part that came easy and offered peace…peace at last.

Yes, peace, given freely, given in the way of a moment, in slow motion, in…out…in…out.

We were in awe of the silence...so loud in our ears and hearts, taking it in and the world around us stopped as we listened.

   

In.  Out.  Finished.

It was an honor to witness this last breath; the last part of the story, my Dad’s story.

And the things of earth will grow strangely dim

In the light of His glory and grace

 I love that…Good bye Dad