LOVE WITHOUT BORDERS

LOVE.  The most sought after, fought after, laughed about, pined over, mystifying concept in all the world.  There is nothing more sung about, ranted over, written about, danced about, sacrificed for, declared, celebrated, scared off, confused, delighted, acted out or cheered on around the world.  There are infinite rites, passages, ceremonies, gifts and customs among the nations to express it.  Besides greed, perhaps no more exorbitant sum of money has been spent on anything else in all of time!  Love is the ultimate international language.

Love is well studied and myriads of books, seminars, conferences, retreats, pod casts, etc. have spewed out the inadequate, can´t-do-it-justice findings.  The ancient Greeks would most likely be horrified to know that we have only one word in English for love!  How can ¨I love ice cream¨ and ¨I love you¨ possibly require the same verb?  I guess some cultures are just smarter...

Many of us are familiar with the six loves in Greek (four of which are found in the Scriptures): eros (romantic, sexual love), philia (deep friendship), ludus (playful love), agape (selfless love), pragma (longstanding, practical love) and philautia (self-love).  I couldn´t agree more with Roman Krznaric, an Australian cultural thinker, who wrote: ¨If the art of coffee deserves its own sophisticated vocabulary, then why not the art of love?¨  Indeed!

In our quest to understand love, we have been known to look at love pyramids, love diagrams, love circles, love lists, love charts, love graphs, outlines, designs, stages, types and kinds (these all really exist!)  We have terms to describe various versions of love outside of the Greek ¨classics¨ including: puppy love, maternal/paternal love, tough love, brotherly love, self-love, conditional love and divine love, just to name a few.  

But no one can hold a candle to God´s love.  Love was the major reason I decided to become a follower of Christ.  Discovering at 16 the amazing, crazy, ocean-sized love He has for me simply blew me away!  He captivated me then and He still does today.  His agape love for us is the only perfect love we will ever experience.  Every other version of love - no matter how wonderful - is still marred in some way, for we are imperfect.  How could I resist Him?

Last year, in spite of the pain, we experienced a beautiful love in our family like never before.  As one of us suffered, we all suffered and there was no sacrifice too great to make for Jenna.  Dani stayed by her side, massaged her every day and demonstrated a loyalty & depth I had not seen to that level before in her.  Jordan wrote her notes, cried for her in his room, prayed for her on her bed, did his homework at the hospital & dedicated goals to her in his soccer playing.  Bruce left work behind, read Psalm 23 over her, held her hand for hours, ran several times a day to Burger King for shaved ice for her and valiantly tried to keep us all together in one piece.  As for me, I have never known maternal love to the extent that I did last year, even when I held them as beautiful babies and couldn´t keep my eyes off them.  The love & adrenalin that ran through my system day and night that subconsciously & organically warned me ¨a child you love is in danger¨ carried me through sleepless nights, long waits at the hospital, endless medical errands  and the suffering of my mother-heart that the whole process dragged me through.  It was a year to think about her, pray unceasingly for her, sacrifice for her, love on her, write about her, dream about her and serve her - plus hold my other two dear ones in their anguish.  And although I did it far from perfectly, I didn´t know I had it in me. Most of all, burned into our minds forever, is Jenna´s love toward us - in her gratitude, in her uncomplaining attitude, in her surrender, in her humor in the midst of pain, in her fighting, in her concern for us, in the verbal gifts of love she gave to each one of us as she realized the end was drawing near.  She left us with words we will always treasure as she recounted & affirmed her love for each one.  The closeness of death brought out an appreciation for the preciousness of one another like nothing else we have experienced.  Love can bring out the best you have to give.   

All of these assorted, random thoughts about love this year come down to this:  there are no borders for genuine love.  No political frontiers that can keep it out, no bitterness that cannot be conquered, no sin too big to be forgiven, no relationship too difficult, no war too awful, no illness too devastating and not even death itself, for:

¨love is as strong as death, 

its jealousy unyielding as the grave.

It burns like a blazing fire, like a mighty flame.¨

S. of Songs 8:6

Whatever kind of love you are celebrating on Valentine´s Day, I hope you will remember all the kinds God has given you to enjoy.  I pray most of all that you will experience His divine, sacred, unrelenting love for you - for that is the most stunning love of all.  Love without borders...that is the kind He has for you and for me - and all the world.  Celebrate it!

THE WINTER OF GRIEF

" It was you who set all the boundaries of the earth; you made both summer and winter.¨

Psalm 74:17

The winter of grief pierces my heart.  The bitter cold has made bones of the trees outside.  They stand naked, vulnerable, frozen in their dormant posture.  They seem much like me in their waiting, in their defenseless exposure, in their inability to move.  They have been reduced to attitudes of  essential survival.

My heart goes down early with the sun (how soon the darkness comes in winter!) and withdraws in loneliness.  It instinctively searches for warmth & quiet in its hibernated state.  It is a serious season, a seemingly unending one and its barrenness stretches out before me.

Yet in spite of the cold, there is a certain beauty - pristine snow and its painting of the winter wonderlandscape, glowing indoor fires, hoodies & hot chocolate, flannels & fleece, cinnamon candles & music floating like the flakes themselves - all a juxtaposed part of this season.  There is the hope of the evergreen, the uniqueness of each snowflake, the fun of snow sports, the warmth of family, the sweet dreams of sugarplums and even the early crocuses with their promises of spring.

But my grief is desolate & raw right now in winter. I cocoon up against the flurries of sadness, the wind chill of depression and the bleakness of the wasteland of energy & passion.  I observe the beauty of this season from afar, like a tourist, yet I am restless & yearning for another.

Where I live now there is no snow in winter, just the cold.  Last week the almond trees blossomed.  They are always the first and most eager for spring.  But they brought false hopes; two days ago another northern chill swept over the country in defiant response.  My heart ran again for cover.

I reflect, somewhat bemused, on the fact that the southern hemisphere of the world is in summer - maybe I am just in the wrong place!  And those countries along the equator who have no winter at all... do they not have a ¨winter¨ in their grief there?  I seriously consider moving...but I´m pretty sure the winter of my grief would stubbornly refuse to leave me until it´s time is done.  It clings to me with chilling yet intentional purpose.

My soul yearns for warmth, sunshine, the soft-hued colors & fresh air of life-giving spring.  I long for its promises, its breath and spirit.  I long to come outside, out of my hiding, out of my cocooning, out of the sadness of loss.  I know I have a long journey in front of me but I just want to turn this corner into tender, verdant spring.  To move, grow and progress.

Oh may I be persevering during this winter of grief!  It will not last forever and there is purpose in it just like all the seasons.  Help me to understand that in this apparent dormancy, there is growth and life; it is just not as evident.  Things are hibernating, resting, preparing for the surge of growth & life that is to come.  Let me walk this one out faithfully, one day at a time.  There will soon be a thawing, a warming, the songbirds will return and the flowering will begin...  

¨Let us acknowledge the Lord; let us press on to acknowledge him.  

As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains,

like the spring rains that water the earth.¨

Hosea 6:3  

Photo by:  blmiers2

A DOCTOR SPEAKS

We received this letter not too long ago from Jenna's "favorite" Doctor, the one who was her very first contact at her first appointment, took out her "umbilical tumor", ran her quickly through numerous tests during the Christmas holidays last year to find the main tumor, diagnosed her cancer and was the surgeon in a number of her surgeries.  We were touched by his generous words & wanted to share them with you:

Dear Pamela and Bruce,

I wanted to tell you that your affection and appreciation is absolutely reciprocal.  Jenna has always been a a special patient for me and I know that she has been so for all the specialists that have known and treated her.  I don´t say this because of the medical challenge that her case represented from the very beginning but because of the quality of person that Jenna was and the admirable fortitude with which she confronted her illness.  We were all conscious that her case was quite advanced with a limited survival rate and we tried to fight with all available resources, but unfortunately the norm is that these situations don´t end the way we would all like and the illness was unstoppable. 

Although in the last phase of her illness because of my work obligations [he was her digestive surgeon and not involved in her whole process] I wasn´t able to visit her as I would have liked, during that time I have often thought of you all and frequently asked the endocrinologists and oncologists about how she was she was doing whenever I had occasion.  Knowing Jenna and her family has been a life lesson for me.  A lesson of love, serenity and inner strength when things go bad.  Because of all of this, the one who will always be grateful for having known her is I - and I give thanks to God for that.

Affectionately,

Ignacio

(Dr. Ignacio Machado Romero)

Original letter in Spanish:

Queridos Pamela y Bruce,

Quería deciros que ese cariño y aprecio hacia Jenna y su familia es absolutamente recíproco. Ella siempre ha sido una paciente especial para mí, y se que así lo ha sido para todos los especialistas que la han conocido y tratado. Y no lo digo por el reto médico y quirúrgico que desde el principio supuso su caso, sino por la calidad como persona de Jenna y su admirable entereza para afrontar la enfermedad. Todos éramos conscientes que era un caso muy avanzado con una supervivencia limitada y tratamos de luchar con todos los medios disponibles, pero desgraciadamente lo habitual es que estas situaciones no tengan el final que a todos nos hubiera gustado y la enfermedad ha sido implacable desde el principio. Aunque en la última fase por motivos de trabajo no he podido visitarla tanto como me habría gustado, durante todo este tiempo me he acordado muchísimo de vosotros e interesado por su evolución preguntando a endocrinos y oncólogos siempre que tenía ocasión. Conocer a Jenna y su familia ha supuesto para mí una lección de vida. Una lección de amor, serenidad y fuerza interior cuando las cosas vienen mal. Por todo esto el que estará siempre agradecido por haberla conocido soy yo, y doy gracias a Dios por ello.

Un abrazo.

Ignacio

Photo by:  Total Assist Locum Agency

SHE SEES

I am touched to share this poem written by my friend John Simmons in response to my poem ¨Senseless¨ yesterday.  I am so glad to think upon this great contrast - heaven & earth - and now, to share it with you.

Her eyes opened with a clarity

they had never seen before

She sees beauty unimagined;

Colors that have no name here,

because the few that saw them

and returned, could not explain.

A garden of delight with strange fruit;

Apples tasted by Euphrosynus* the cook,

and his friends but which for us are

just a description in an ancient book.

There are not many conversations

there, because silence is the mystery

of the future age, while words are just

the tools of this world and inner

knowing of the heart has replaced them.

But the music! Oh what music!

As unimaginable as heavenly colors,

Such a chorus was never heard elsewhere;

melodies that dance with dizzying melismas,

An impossible range of sound, thunder

and ever so gentle harmonies,

all in praise of the King that none could

gaze upon, were not the eyes and heart

strengthened by glory.

Every pain and sorrow are gone.

There it is only a growing reunion,

and the wait is not as long as it seems

In the dull earth and vale of tears.

There, triumph is obtained,

but here, there is yet more

sowing in sorrow and struggle

In the morning, until the evening 

brings the joyful harvest.

Tears wash the eyes and the soul,

purifying, cleansing, refining;

tears mixed with grace, already

strengthening the eyes to see

what she sees.

*Euphrosynus was a 9th century monk from Alexandria serving in a kitchen monastery in Palestine. His humility & gentle spirit were evident.  He liked to remain quietly anonymous in his devotion. His far reaching spiritual heights were unknown to those around him.  He is known for one incident.

It is told that a head monk who fervently desired to know more of heaven prayed to see it and in a vision was walking in a beautiful garden that filled him with both joy & fear.  To his surprise, he also saw Euphrosynus, the cook from his monastery.  He asked Euphrosynus how he came to be there and he simply said, ¨through the great mercy of God.¨  The priest asked if he could have something from the beautiful place.  He decided on 3 luscious apples and Euphrosynus wrapped them up in a kerchief.

The next morning, the priest initially thought his vision was but a dream but next to him on a table were the 3 apples from Paradise.  The priest found Euphrosynus in church and asked him under oath where he had been the night before.  He answered, ¨the same place as you.¨ And explained that the Lord, in desiring to fulfill the prayer os the priest had shown him Paradise and given the fruit through him, ¨the lowly and unworthy servant of God, Euphrosynus.¨

The priest shared all this with the monastery brethren but Euphrosynus fled human glory and went to a place unknown, concealed except to God.  The monks always remembered St. Euphrosynus, and knew that they, too, ¨through the great mercy of God¨ would meet their brother someday in heaven. 

The slices of apples from Paradise were reverently used for blessing and healing.

The full story of St. Euphrosynus can be found here:

http://oca.org/saints/lives/2015/09/11/102581-st-euphrosynus-the-cook-of-alexandria

Here is the song which inspired the John´s verse about the music.  It is lovely!

¨give rest to the soul of the girl that you love...¨

SENSELESS

Who changed the artistry of my world?
For suddenly, all is Black and White.
Colors & designs are gone and beauty is hard to find.
I used to find it everywhere.

Where did the music go?
For suddenly, there are no lovely melodies,
No rhythm or harmony or dance tunes.
Only deafening silence or annoying loudness.

What cosmic chef stole the flavors?
For suddenly, neither food nor life has any.
No spice, no texture, nothing to set it apart.
There are no ¨parties in my mouth¨ anymore.

Which doctor anesthetized my nerves to feel?
For suddenly, I cannot touch what I love.
And what I touch has no feeling for me.
There is only a numbness in my fingers & my body.

What demon stole my sense of smell?
For suddenly, there are no roses or jasmine.
The lavender of life is only neutral.
Those natural scents used to intoxicate me.

The sudden absence of my dear one
has rendered my world senseless.
I can only press on in Black & White -
towards a future world & life of color,
of melodious notes, of flavor parties,
of wonderful, joyful textures in my hands,
and smells - oh! the smells!
of roses, jasmine & lavender again.



Photo by:  Joao Loureiro

CAN IT REALLY BE?

Can it really be
that I won´t ever see her smile again?
or hear her tell me a joke?
make me Lebanese coffee
talk about the ¨great nation¨
choose a scarf for me
dazzle me with her 20-second make-up routine
paint a picture
write something that takes my breath away
tease her brother or sister
love on all of us
cook her glorious creations
or throw her head back and laugh?


Can it really be
that I won´t ever see her fall in love?
have children?
study in Paris for her Masters
come home for Christmas
travel to faraway places
be her siblings´counselor
be her parents´ counselor
take care of us when we´re old
see her change the world
use her languages & amazing life experiences thus far
love Jesus in this generational context?

Can it really be
that I cannot stare at her rare beauty
and ponder her equally profound inner jewels?
share conversations & secrets
and equally comfortable silences
go shopping together
laugh & cry over a movie or novel
repeat inside jokes til the tears stream
have mate by the beach
get angry over injustices
tear up over a heroic kindndess
treasure her amazing mixture of passionate & crazy?

Can it really be
that I won´t  ever see her
be her Dad´s compañera in travel again?
her sister´s confidante?
her brother´s inspiration?
her mother´s first love-child?

Can it really be?



Photo by: Joe ¨The Suspension of Disbelief¨

JENNA'S HANDS

This lovely painting was painted and gifted to us a week or so after Jenna's passing.  This is what Vanessa wrote with it:


Jenna's Hands

The beauty of her hands...
Goes deeper than her slender fingers
It is more than the grace with which she holds them;
Deeper than the strength within them.

The beauty of her hands is in the lives that she has touched;
In every hand she has held,
And in all the love that she has given.

Now her hands are held by the
One whose touch has healed
And while He leads her in a dance of love and victory...
Here on earth, her touch continues on
In every life that she has loved,
And every heart that she has blessed.

Vanessa Brooke



For now Vanessa´s painting rests on our ¨Memory Table¨ but soon it will find a more permanent place on one of our walls.  We are so blessed with friends who share our love of Jenna and give of their talents to express it in such lovely ways.

P.S.  When we first saw the painting, Bruce thought that was his hand holding Jenna´s!  (We still let him think that.)  And it DOES look a lot like his hand.  He spent many precious hours holding her hands this year during her suffering and THAT really WAS a picture of her Heavenly Father´s hands which were to hold her later.  Whatever the interpretation, we are comforted by the fact that SHE IS HELD.