Confusion, Fear, and Sadness

I don’t know what to write. It is a confusing and sad time for all of us as we sit around my mother’s nursing home room, waiting for her cardiac rehab to begin on Monday. She’s scared. We’re all scared. Everyone cares about each other. Everyone is trying to do their best. But conversation is hard. My mother is physically uncomfortable and we’re all stilted in our strange, mass-produced chairs dispersed around the room.

My sister is a star at being patient and generous. She’s trying to help our stepfather get on top of the financial details of their lives since my mother usually takes care of those things. And she does so with such kindness and care that even such a difficult conversation is bearable.

I was assigned the task of trying to get my stepfather’s Playstation to work with their television. What a comedy of errors! I had no idea what I was doing, even after reading the instruction booklet. But I was able to Skype with my Fred and he (amazingly) talked me through it all the way from Montana. Technology is so cool.

I’m going to try to sleep now. I’ve been very troubled this week and sleep has been difficult. But I’m trying to meditate on eternally-important things. A sweet article by Dr. Art Lindsley of The C.S. Lewis Institute has been an encouragement to me tonight. Here is just a brief excerpt for your edification too:

C.S. Lewis on Life and Immortality

“I remember my professor, Dr. Gerstner, who always conducted his classes by dialecture (dialogue), asking us, “Who has ever been perfect?” We responded, “Jesus” and “Adam and Eve before the fall,” but then we ran out of concrete examples that could survive his scrutiny. When we gave up, Dr. Gerstner said, “You’ve just missed countless millions of people.” We asked, “Whom do you mean?” He responded, “All those who have died and are now in heaven with
Christ.”

C.S. Lewis shares something of the same insight towards the end of The Silver Chair. The children were at this point in Aslan’s country beyond Narnia.

King Caspian lay under a clear stream. They all wept—even Aslan. Aslan told Eustace to get a thorn and push it into his lion paw. As a result, a drop of blood falls into the stream and King Caspian leaps up no longer old, but a young man. He rushed to Aslan “…and flung his arms as far as they would go round the huge neck; and he gave Aslan the strong kisses of a King, and Aslan gave him the wild kisses of a Lion.”

Eustace, afraid to touch the dead, said: “Look here! I say,” he stammered. “It’s all very well. But aren’t you—? I mean didn’t you—”

“Oh, don’t be such an ass,” said Caspian.

“But,” said Eustace, looking at Aslan. “Hasn’t he—er—died?”

“Yes,” said the Lion…” He has died. Most people have, you know. Even I have. There are very few who haven’t.”

In other words, if our eyes could be opened for just a minute to the eternal dimension in the present, it would change our view of death and of our life. Many more people have died and now live than those who are presently on earth.”

I am praying that, even in the confusion, fear, and sadness of my current situation, my eyes and the eyes of my family members whom I love so dearly will be opened for just a minute to the eternal dimension in the present.

Thanks for the kind notes and especially the prayers!

Yours,
Tara B.