Last year, on December 11, 2009, I began my journey of aligning myself with a painful truth--that my dad could no longer be touched, seen, heard or hugged, this side of Heaven. I wept over his rigid, cancerous body in a Houston hospice center as my heart contorted into a massive knot of heavy, twisted-up grief. Honestly, it is not something I often allow my mind to revisit. I imagine it will forever be soul-wrenching to relive the first moments when I found myself to be a daughter, physically emptied of the presence of the man who helped conceive of my existence.
Before I started to write tonight, I took a look back. Not at photos or videos, but at you. That's right--you, the people, who will take the time to read this. All the notes I wrote and postings about Dad last year and those of you who so tenderly and lovingly carried me to the finish line with my dad, in one way or another. Say what you will about facebook--it has been the most tremendous blessing to my heart. And that has everything to do with all of you who wrote little things and medium-sized things and some big things to me last year, ever reminding me that I wasn't alone, that you were praying for us, for Dad....not even caring that you were posting a comment on a note that you knew would probably get a good amount of follow-up comments that would crowd your inbox. You just cannot know how much every single thought meant. But then, I am a "words" person. Have you noticed? Love giving them, writing them, choosing them, hearing them, pondering them.
I've learned that words and hearts and the Body of Christ mean a great deal. I don't care what your beliefs are. If you reached out to me last year or since, you were used by God, and I was blessed because of it....
My dad, Larry Beckham, was one of the best storytellers I ever knew. Growing up around the book business, where my dad was in the spotlight, I would watch him weave a tale in front of a crowd with the greatest of ease and enjoyment. It was just like breathing to him. One of the stories that always provoked a good deal of enthusiasm among the book crowd was a story called, "Remember the Pony." If you've never heard the tale, it involves a couple of twin boys, about six years old, with complete opposite personalities--one was a pessimist to the nth degree; one, an optimist. The parents were exasperated and took them to a psychologist, who conducted a test of sorts. The psychologist took the boys to two different rooms. The pessimist went to a room filled with toys and candy of all sorts--a child's paradise--and was left there to play. The optimistic child went to a room with nothing in it but a huge pile of horse manure and also left there to play. After a period of time, the parents and psychologist went back to check on the boys. They found the pessimist sitting in the middle of the room with his arms crossed--hadn't played with a thing. He had a negative reason for not trying out any of the toys or treats--possible injury from the rocking horse, probable stomachache from the candy, and so on. Unbelievable. Then they went down to the room with the manure. Would you believe the optimistic child was knee deep in that manure, slinging it everywhere, digging as hard as he could? The parents couldn't believe it. They stopped him to ask what in the world he was doing. And he famously replied, "Well, with all this horse manure in here, there's BOUND to be a pony!"
I've waded through a good deal of horse manure this past year. It has sickened me, turned my stomach inside out and stunk up my life. Praise God for Teresa Dunn, my beloved counselor, who continues to help me dig through it. There is a reward for this woman in Heaven of which no mortal can conceive.;-) I'm not going to claim I've found a pony yet...but I'm in hot pursuit, to be sure. Would you like to know what "the pony" is for me? The pony for me will be eventually getting to see God redeem my pain and loss for His glory and eternal gain. Whether He plans to do that here on earth or in Heaven, I have no clue. He's given me glimpses of it--a few would-be "horseshoes" along the way.... Enough to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that He can be trusted and there WILL be redemption. I am learning to trust God in deeper ways than I could have imagined and I'm holding onto the evidence of His healing and power in my life tighter than almost anything else. They are jewels in my crown. Suffering is a powerful tool that God can use in all our lives, if we will trust Him to use it for our maturity and remain open to that. It has the potential to actually enrich one's life, which sounds bizarre, I know.
But any enriching that's happened this past year has been only at the hands of an exceedingly gracious and loving God. Good heavens, I have so much still to learn and sort through, grieve and get angry about. Major obstacles yet to move through. I feel like I'm only at the starting gate in so many ways. One thing I have learned, not surprisingly, is that there are no guarantees in this life. Of course, I knew this before, in my head--like I know recipes and important dates and useless facts. But I believe that when this is learned, realllllly learned, this knowledge changes a person. It changes the things I get worked up about (some weirder than others), and the things I don't. The things I say to others and the things I hold back (I'm holding back less and less--be forewarned...). P.S. this doesn't mean I am always graceful about it, which keeps me needing Jesus. I hug tighter...and longer. Beauty brings tears to my eyes. God's world and people are so freaking beautiful--it just takes my breath away. I'm less and less inclined to make silly rules for myself. What's the point? And mostly, I think about Heaven a great deal. I want all the people I love to be there with me someday, which, for some, according to Scripture, will mean spiritually epic shifts in their hearts. And it hurts me that some of the people I love don't seem to "get" the brevity of this life...the fact that their lives are actually a vapor...((poof))...and that we only have a relatively tiny amount of time here to learn what needs to be learned and live out authentic, amazing lives that glorify our Creator.
Wow. I just need to offer thanks...for listening...and talking...and encouraging....and being burdened...and praying...and affirming...and challenging me...and sharing...and loving...and being patient...and remembering. All of that matters greatly. And I am intensely grateful.
I go forward in the tension of living in a world without my earthly father. I miss him and would give anything for a gold line to Heaven so we could chat every now and then, to hear his strong, loud laugh, to share the latest funny story about my kids, to hear (once again) how proud he is of me and feel his verbal "pat on the back," to talk about movies or an amazing meal we might have had, to report a vintage car seen driving down the road that made me think of him, and yes, deeper things. I choose to "remember the pony" today and to attempt the daunting task of being a good steward of my pain. To God be ALL the glory and for His kingdom's sake.
Lesli
But we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. Romans 5:3-5
Jesus says: "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the FULL." John 10:10
Before I started to write tonight, I took a look back. Not at photos or videos, but at you. That's right--you, the people, who will take the time to read this. All the notes I wrote and postings about Dad last year and those of you who so tenderly and lovingly carried me to the finish line with my dad, in one way or another. Say what you will about facebook--it has been the most tremendous blessing to my heart. And that has everything to do with all of you who wrote little things and medium-sized things and some big things to me last year, ever reminding me that I wasn't alone, that you were praying for us, for Dad....not even caring that you were posting a comment on a note that you knew would probably get a good amount of follow-up comments that would crowd your inbox. You just cannot know how much every single thought meant. But then, I am a "words" person. Have you noticed? Love giving them, writing them, choosing them, hearing them, pondering them.
I've learned that words and hearts and the Body of Christ mean a great deal. I don't care what your beliefs are. If you reached out to me last year or since, you were used by God, and I was blessed because of it....
My dad, Larry Beckham, was one of the best storytellers I ever knew. Growing up around the book business, where my dad was in the spotlight, I would watch him weave a tale in front of a crowd with the greatest of ease and enjoyment. It was just like breathing to him. One of the stories that always provoked a good deal of enthusiasm among the book crowd was a story called, "Remember the Pony." If you've never heard the tale, it involves a couple of twin boys, about six years old, with complete opposite personalities--one was a pessimist to the nth degree; one, an optimist. The parents were exasperated and took them to a psychologist, who conducted a test of sorts. The psychologist took the boys to two different rooms. The pessimist went to a room filled with toys and candy of all sorts--a child's paradise--and was left there to play. The optimistic child went to a room with nothing in it but a huge pile of horse manure and also left there to play. After a period of time, the parents and psychologist went back to check on the boys. They found the pessimist sitting in the middle of the room with his arms crossed--hadn't played with a thing. He had a negative reason for not trying out any of the toys or treats--possible injury from the rocking horse, probable stomachache from the candy, and so on. Unbelievable. Then they went down to the room with the manure. Would you believe the optimistic child was knee deep in that manure, slinging it everywhere, digging as hard as he could? The parents couldn't believe it. They stopped him to ask what in the world he was doing. And he famously replied, "Well, with all this horse manure in here, there's BOUND to be a pony!"
I've waded through a good deal of horse manure this past year. It has sickened me, turned my stomach inside out and stunk up my life. Praise God for Teresa Dunn, my beloved counselor, who continues to help me dig through it. There is a reward for this woman in Heaven of which no mortal can conceive.;-) I'm not going to claim I've found a pony yet...but I'm in hot pursuit, to be sure. Would you like to know what "the pony" is for me? The pony for me will be eventually getting to see God redeem my pain and loss for His glory and eternal gain. Whether He plans to do that here on earth or in Heaven, I have no clue. He's given me glimpses of it--a few would-be "horseshoes" along the way.... Enough to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that He can be trusted and there WILL be redemption. I am learning to trust God in deeper ways than I could have imagined and I'm holding onto the evidence of His healing and power in my life tighter than almost anything else. They are jewels in my crown. Suffering is a powerful tool that God can use in all our lives, if we will trust Him to use it for our maturity and remain open to that. It has the potential to actually enrich one's life, which sounds bizarre, I know.
But any enriching that's happened this past year has been only at the hands of an exceedingly gracious and loving God. Good heavens, I have so much still to learn and sort through, grieve and get angry about. Major obstacles yet to move through. I feel like I'm only at the starting gate in so many ways. One thing I have learned, not surprisingly, is that there are no guarantees in this life. Of course, I knew this before, in my head--like I know recipes and important dates and useless facts. But I believe that when this is learned, realllllly learned, this knowledge changes a person. It changes the things I get worked up about (some weirder than others), and the things I don't. The things I say to others and the things I hold back (I'm holding back less and less--be forewarned...). P.S. this doesn't mean I am always graceful about it, which keeps me needing Jesus. I hug tighter...and longer. Beauty brings tears to my eyes. God's world and people are so freaking beautiful--it just takes my breath away. I'm less and less inclined to make silly rules for myself. What's the point? And mostly, I think about Heaven a great deal. I want all the people I love to be there with me someday, which, for some, according to Scripture, will mean spiritually epic shifts in their hearts. And it hurts me that some of the people I love don't seem to "get" the brevity of this life...the fact that their lives are actually a vapor...((poof))...and that we only have a relatively tiny amount of time here to learn what needs to be learned and live out authentic, amazing lives that glorify our Creator.
Wow. I just need to offer thanks...for listening...and talking...and encouraging....and being burdened...and praying...and affirming...and challenging me...and sharing...and loving...and being patient...and remembering. All of that matters greatly. And I am intensely grateful.
I go forward in the tension of living in a world without my earthly father. I miss him and would give anything for a gold line to Heaven so we could chat every now and then, to hear his strong, loud laugh, to share the latest funny story about my kids, to hear (once again) how proud he is of me and feel his verbal "pat on the back," to talk about movies or an amazing meal we might have had, to report a vintage car seen driving down the road that made me think of him, and yes, deeper things. I choose to "remember the pony" today and to attempt the daunting task of being a good steward of my pain. To God be ALL the glory and for His kingdom's sake.
Lesli
But we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. Romans 5:3-5
Jesus says: "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the FULL." John 10:10
1983, on the way back from a Southwestern trip to Nassau. One of the few pictures from my girlhood that is just the two of us.
2009, Thanksgiving in Houston. Two weeks before Dad "fell asleep in Jesus." I miss you, Dad.
No comments:
Post a Comment