Spontaneous Hugs

 It’s happened twice recently—

The spontaneous hug.

Two students,

Each hesitant at first,

Coming in for the hug,

Stopping themselves,

But finally deciding it was okay.

One student was almost as tall as me,

Built big, and could take me down in a heartbeat.

But he was so excited that we had played the keyboards

That he couldn’t contain himself.

Spontaneous hug #1.

The other student was considerably smaller,

And just decided to hug me for no particular reason.

Spontaneous hug #2. 

Both students wrapped their arms around me,

Hugged me very quickly,

And walked away.

Both students made me smile.

 

Sometimes, friends, we need to go in for the spontaneous hug.

Sometimes, when we can’t contain the joy we’re feeling,

We simply need to open our arms and give someone a hug.

It doesn’t have to be a bear hug.

It can be a pat-pat hug.

A side hug.

A finger hug.

Whatever hug you’re comfortable giving.

But sometimes we just need to give a hug…

Because sometimes someone needs to receive it.

 

Dear God, Thank you for hugs. Amen.

Laughter In the Midst of Grief

Last weekend, in the midst of quiet grief,

I received a text from Jes-The-Cat-Sitter.

The text read: Dee, I did something dumb. I’m having trouble using speak-to-text because I’m laughing so hard.

I asked: What did you do?

She said: Here’s a hint. I hope your dad doesn’t want to read today’s paper.

I asked: Did you leave it out for Annie-The-Cat to eat?

She said: Oh, no. No. This was all me. I can’t even say it!

I asked again, curious: What did you do?

She said: I threw it on the roof. On accident. I can’t breathe! I have tears.

I responded, laughing: How did you do that?!

She said: Oh gosh. I was just trying to toss it to the porch out of the way. It was 20 ft away!

I said, still laughing: Is it noticeable on the roof?

She said: Yeah, I think pretty much anyone could see that it’s on the roof.

I asked, genuinely: How will we get it off?

She said: When it rains? Hope for a really strong rain. A deluge!

 

I shook my head at her, laughed, shared the story with the rest of the family, and they all laughed, too. In the middle of our grief, we laughed.

 

Grief is a complicated thing.

It brings anger; it brings peace.

It brings holding on; it brings letting go.

It brings uncertainty; it brings certainty.

There is no right way to grieve; there is no wrong way to grieve (except to not grieve).

Grief is a process.

It ebbs and it flows.

And even in the midst of it,

Even in the midst of tears,

It’s okay to laugh,

Especially when something ridiculous happens,

Like your cat sitter throwing your newspaper on top of your house because she greatly overshot her throw!   

 

Dear God: Thank you for laughter. Thank you for tears. Thank you for friends who pet-sit and throw newspapers on the tops of houses. Thank you for the time that we need to process grief and thank you for not expecting us to not feel sadness when someone dies, even when we know that they were ready to walk into the eternal. Thank you for being God who walks with us through it all. Through Jesus, you have experienced laughter, tears, ridiculous moments of friendship, grief, and sadness. Thank you. So much. Amen. 

Kindness at The Outback

 Yesterday, we laid G-mama to rest.

Around 30 people gathered in person to celebrate G-mama’s life.

Around 10 people gathered online to do the same.

My dad and I officiated the ceremony.  

My dad focused his thoughts on G-mama’s love for God and family

And he told stories that made everyone laugh.

I focused my thoughts on G-mama’s love for music

And I sang two of her favorite hymns: “The Old Rugged Cross” and “How Great Thou Art.”

After the service, and many pictures documenting the day—

G-mama loved taking pictures!—

The family went to Outback Steakhouse to have lunch.

 

When our party of 21 all arrived at the steakhouse at the same time,

The waitress seemed surprised.

I told her that we had just come from my grandmother’s funeral.

I explained that G-mama had been 99 years old and that she had loved Bloomin’ Onions.

I shared that we had chosen to eat at Outback in G-mama’s honor.

 

After a delicious meal where everyone ate more than their fill,

The waitress came to deliver the bill.

She said, “We went on and took care of those Bloomin’ Onions for you.”

 

The Outback took care of the Bloomin’ Onions to honor G-mama’s life.

 

Dear God: For simple kindnesses in the middle of celebration and grief, thank you. May we be a people of simple kindnesses and may those kindnesses change someone’s world. Amen. 

Oh, Animals

 Being a cat owner is an interesting venture.

Cats do what they want to do when they want to do it.

 

My particular cat, Queen Antoinette, or Annie for short, is feisty.

I give her pets, and she reaches and pops me.

I hold her, and she turns her head and looks at me like she’s going to attack.

 

She’s also full of energy.

She gets the zoomies and sprints through the house as fast as she can.

She jumps and flips and scootches along the carpet, playing away.

 

But she’s also sweet, especially when she’s sleepy.

Sometimes, she curls up next to me at night, making sure that part of her is touching part of me.

Sometimes, she sits sleepily while I give her pets, especially on her head and neck.

 

And she’s also determined to be the center of attention.

Often, when we’re watching TV, she’ll jump up and sit right in front of the picture.

And often, when either dad or I are working at our desks, she’ll jump up and sit on our work.

She sits on dad’s work so often that he’s had to start putting her outside to complete it!

And on Monday night, when I began my virtual appointment with Joe The Counselor, she jumped in front of the camera so that Joe had to greet both the cat and me!

 

On Tuesday night, as my dad was sitting at the kitchen table,

Annie jumped onto the table and sat down—right on top of his newspaper.

He said, “Look at this. Here we have this whole huge house. And she has to sit right here on my paper while I’m trying to read!”

I laughed. Mom and dad did, too.

Annie sat there as proud as she could be.

 

Cats do what they want to do when they want to do it.

Sometimes, I’d like to be able to do the same!

 

Dear God: Thank you for the joy that animals bring to our lives, and thank you for bringing them into our lives often when we need them most. May we be good stewards of our animals, take care of them, love them, and treat them as your creation. Amen.

 

PS. Bullet the Dog is still hanging on. He comes to the house every day for a brief visit. He is pretty much blind and deaf (although sometimes we think that his hearing is selective!), so he doesn’t know that Annie is in the picture. Annie is very fascinated by Bullet. She watches him eat and drinks from his water bowl when he’s not there. But, as of now, Bullet and Annie haven’t officially met, and we’re not sure they ever will. Feisty Annie might be too much for Old Man Bullet!  

 

Sunbathing

 How do you summarize a life of 99 and a half years?

 

That was the question we tackled yesterday morning while sitting in the lobby at the Embassy Suites in Jacksonville, Florida.

 

We had gotten to Jacksonville less than 24 hours before, missing G-mama’s passing by less than five minutes, cried, played and sang “Precious Lord Take My Hand” and “How Great Thou Art,” born witness to the Hospice nurse’s careful attention to G-mama’s body, sat with G-mama until the funeral home transport arrived, and watched as the funeral home transport rolled her away. We then gathered for one last meal at the facility where G-mama lived and scattered to our respective places of rest after we ate.

 

Some of us rested well; some of us did not. And so we came to the table of memory somewhat weary yet wanting to honor G-mama’s life.

 

One thing I learned about G-mama was that she liked to tan! She was evidently an avid sun-bather?! I had no idea!

 

We also discussed how G-mama enjoyed General Hospital and QVC for many years. I had forgotten about those slight obsessions, yet now I remember how she had recorded General Hospital every day on VHS and created her own form of DVR long before it was popular!

 

In the end, after reminiscing and sharing memories, this is what we wrote:

 

“Nina Louise Shearin Kidd, of Jacksonville, FL, passed away peacefully on February 12, 2022. 

 

Nina was born on June 13, 1922, in Hollister, NC, to the late Alva Martin and Ethel Capps Shearin. She married Virgil Alfred “June” Kidd, Jr. on September 6, 1942. Nina was a graduate of John Graham High School in Warrenton, NC, and Campbell Junior College in Buies Creek, NC. 

Nina is survived by daughters Sandra Deaton (Dan), Lillington, NC; June Gail Kidd, Jacksonville, FL; and Shearin Johnson (Paul), Jacksonville, FL. She is also survived by four grandchildren, Dana Deaton (Finley Lee), Raleigh, NC; Daniel Deaton (Gretchen), Holly Springs, NC; Stephen Conner, Jacksonville, FL; and Deanna Deaton, Lillington, NC, and her five great-grandchildren, Jack, Henry, Griffin, Charlie, and Amelia. Further, she is survived by her sister, Lillie Litzsinger of Largo, FL, and many nieces and nephews. 

 

Nina was preceded in death by her husband, June; and sisters Margaret Landis and Lorine McCoy, both of Rocky Mount, NC.

 

Nina was a member of Mayfair Baptist Church for over 40 years and also attended Southside Christian Church. Nina lived in her home on Mandalay Road in Holiday Hill for 60 years. She was a dedicated homemaker who truly loved her family. She was also a bookkeeper at Lee and Cates. Nina liked sewing, music, going to the beach, going on cruises, jewelry, Bloomin’ Onions, and chocolate. She will be missed by all whose lives she touched. 

In addition to flowers, donations can be made to the Campbell University, PO Box 125, Buies Creek, NC 27506 to establish a scholarship in her name. Please designate Nina Kidd on the gift.”

 

So how do you summarize a life of 99 and a half years?

 

I don’t know.

 

But I hope we did it justice. 

Questioning Self

 We were watching the Olympics on Tuesday night when Mikaela Shiffrin skied out in the first run of the slalom.

 

Just before her run, the announcers were talking about what a great athlete she was, how she was expected to take gold, how she was the greatest slalom skier of all-time, etc. 

 

I said aloud, “Stop doing that. You’re going to jinx her.”

 

And sure enough, she made it five seconds into the run and skied out.

 

She was devastated. She had right to be devastated. It was her run that ended unexpectedly. It was her training that seemed to be for naught. It was her life that was always going to impacted. It was her disappointment to swallow.

 

But it wasn’t the announcers’ or anyone else’s.

 

Yet the announcers kept going on and on about the mistake—calling it tragic, devastating, one of the biggest disappointments in Olympic history, an event that would forever be remembered, etc.

 

And the producers kept showing the mistake—deeming it unbelievable, unfathomable, unheard of—and they kept a camera on Shiffrin as she sat on the sidelines for a long time, trying to pull herself together, trying to reconcile what had happened. They didn’t just let her be.  

 

I went to sleep praying for Mikaela Shiffrin on Tuesday night. I felt bad for her all day yesterday. All of the expectations. All of the pressure. All of the need to perform and perform well. It’s a lot for one person to carry. It’s a lot to have the eyes of the world on you and to know that one or two mistakes can garner such ill feelings and pointed words.

 

After the race on Tuesday, Shiffrin said, choking back tears, “It’s not the end of the world. And it’s so stupid to care this much. But I feel I have to question a lot now.”

 

She has to question herself. And questioning yourself is a really hard place to be.

 

Other than seeing her sing along with “The Star Spangled Banner” at her 2018 gold medal ceremony as I teach my students about the Olympics and the National Anthem of each country, I don’t know Mikaela Shiffrin. But I know human nature. And I know that she’s in a really tough place right now. And I know that it’s not my place to judge her, to call her mistake tragic, to blame her, to shame her, or to let her performance devastate me. I am a spectator. I can care. I should care. But she is the one living through it. She is the one who can rightly be devastated. She is the one who needs support.

 

Dear God: Most of us will never experience Olympic-sized disappointment like Mikaela Shiffrin, but we will all have disappointments in life. Help us to bear those disappointments when they come, and help us to walk through those disappointments with those we love rather than blaming them or shaming them for falling short. You are a God who loves us no matter what our performance. Thank you. Amen.  

Hymnody

 Planning the music for worship is always a challenge. The lyrics should fit the theme of the day’s texts, but often those fitting lyrics are paired with tunes that people don’t know.   

 

Because most people don’t read music, they feel more comfortable singing tunes that they know. But limiting tunes means limiting lyrics and limiting lyrics means that texts won’t line up.

 

And so the music minister is given the task of holding these realities in tension—of creating a delicate balance of familiar hymnody with unfamiliar hymnody—of walking the line of safe versus radical—of honoring the old while upholding the new.   

 

I’m pretty sure that my current music minister does a great job of walking that line…but I honestly don’t know what’s old and what’s new because the difference between Baptist hymnody and Lutheran hymnody is vast!

 

Songs that are old standards to my choir-mates are brand new to me! Thankfully, I can read music, so the tunes aren’t that big of a challenge…and the lyrics…well…the lyrics are opening a whole new world to me. Some are just so very beautiful…or inspiring…or challenging:

 

“Publish to every people, tongue and nation that God, in whom they live and move, is love…Publish, glad tidings, tidings of peace, tidings of Jesus, redemption, release.” (Mary A. Thomson)

 

What hymn uses the word publish?! And yet. I was praying about what to write in my next note last week when I found myself singing these words. Publish that God is love, peace, redemption, and release, Deanna. Publish it in your note. Publish it wherever you can.

 

“Will you love the you you hide if I but call your name? Will you quell the fear inside and never be the same? Will you use the faith you’ve found to reshape the world around, through my sight and touch and sound in you and you in me?” (John L. Bell)

 

Yes. Yes, I will try to love the me I hide and quell the fear inside and I will use my faith to try to reshape the world through Christ. Will you?

 

“You need my hands, my exhaustion, working love for the rest of the weary—a love that’s willing to go on loving.” (Cesareo Gabarain)

 

God needs our exhaustion to show God’s love because other people are exhausted, too. We meet people where they are, even in weariness.  

 

These are just a few of the lyrics that have spoken to me recently. New hymns added to my old standards. New lyrics that I am willing to make my own.

 

What about you? What hymn or song lyrics are speaking to you these days? What lyrics are stretching you beyond…or bringing you back home?

 

Please comment. I’d love to hear. 

Buzzer Beater

 And the crowd stormed the court

And lifted him into the air:

Henry Deaton,

Buzzer Beater,

My nephew,

In whom I am so proud.

 

On Monday night, I bore witness to one of the proudest moments in my nephew’s life.

 

Henry has played basketball for as long as I can remember. I have been to countless games to watch him play, so I’ve seen him grow from a child-child to a man-child on the basketball court.

 

For the past four years, Henry has played ball on his school team. While not usually a starter, Henry has been #6 man. I’ve been to games where I’ve seen Henry play a lot. I’ve been to games where I’ve seen Henry play none.

 

Monday night was a game when he played a lot…and it was against his school’s #1 rival.

 

The game was intense. It was fast moving and physical and it saw a lot of fouls.

 

Henry’s team managed to keep the lead for most of the game, but toward the end of the 4^th quarter, it looked like the other team was going to win.

 

Henry had played a good game. He had scored a few points and stolen the ball at a crucial moment when momentum needed to switch to his team’s favor.

 

But when it looked like his team was going to lose, I began preparing what I was going to Henry after the game. “I enjoyed watching you play. I am so proud of you.”

 

Then something amazing happened. Henry’s team had gotten the score within 3 points. Right at the buzzer, one of his teammates, known for his shooting ability, shot a 3-pointer and tied the game!

 

So the game went into overtime, and overtime was just as close as regulation play.

 

Going into the last possession, Henry’s team had the ball. The score was tied. His team needed only to score.

 

The coach had called a time out. The team had decided on their play. But the play went wrong and the person who was supposed to shoot didn’t have the shot. He couldn’t get the ball to the other leading scorer…

 

Yet Henry Deaton was wide open.

 

While Henry is an excellent basketball player, he is not known for his shooting. He offers more rebounds and assists than anything else, so the rival team didn’t think to guard him in the end.

 

But standing on the 3-point line, Henry jumped into the air, shot the ball, and made it!

 

It was the shot of his lifetime!

 

It was what all his years of basketball had been pointing toward.

 

And the crowd stormed the court

And lifted him into the air.

And his parents cried.

And his brothers cried.

And his grandparents cried.

And his aunt cried.

All of us were shaking from adrenaline, and we were each crying tears of joy.

 

Moments like that don’t happen very often.

 

It’s what dreams are made of.

 

And I was able to bear witness to the moment and add it to the canon of my family’s memory.

 

I am so very grateful.

 

And so very proud.