Light

P. P. Bliss wrote a hymn that speaks to my heart at this time of year:

Come to the light, 'tis shining for thee. Sweetly the light has dawned upon me. Once I was blind but now I can see. The Light of the world Is Jesus.

Christmas is a time when many truly don't know why we celebrate. In the dark of winter, the light of the world came down and his name is Jesus. One small light—a match, a candle, a flashlight makes a difference in the dark. The light of Jesus is greater than any light.

No need of the sunlight in Heaven we're told. The Light of the world is Jesus. The Lamb is the light in the city of gold. The Light of the world is Jesus.

His light is so bright that there will be no need of sunshine. If the light of the world is Jesus and he lives in us, should we not shine in the darkness? Let's shine our light so that those lost in darkness will know where to turn. I am determined to be a light as the New Year begins. Will you join me?

Love

Love is the reason for Christmas.  Love brought us Christmas.  Love came down at Christmas.

1Corinthians 13:1-8 If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but I do not have love, I have become as sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophecies, and know all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so as to move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. And if I give out all my goods, and if I deliver my body that I be burned, but I do not have love, I am not profited anything. Love has patience, is kind; love is not envious; love is not vain, is not puffed up; does not behave indecently, does not pursue its own things, is not easily provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices in the truth. Love quietly covers all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails.

Love is unselfish and I am a selfish person at heart.  No matter what, I’m most interested in my own welfare. I find myself functioning that way in every area of my life.  I’m most interested in how much work I’ll have to do to get dinner on the table.  I want to know how little I can get way with in order to help someone else.  I have many tasks to accomplish and very few of them are for me.  They are directed toward my family, immediate and extended.  I fail because I get so wrapped up in the cost that I don’t offer any of it in love.  This is my constant struggle.  I want to learn how to love others and not consider the cost to myself.  I want to lavish God’s love on those around me.  I want to be God’s woman. 

Think of what Jesus did.  He left the riches of heaven to be born in a stable because he loves us.  His father gave his only son so we could be with him forever.  Love truly came down at Christmas. 

 

Hope

I am not a hopeful person by nature. In fact, my family sometimes characterizes me as Eeyore. You’ve met him. He expects the absolute worst—and that’s usually what he gets. I come from a long line of card-carrying pessimists and I married an eternal optimist (who sprang from even more dyed-in-the-wool pessimists than I am). It creates an unusual dynamic. There is a tension between my pessimism and his perpetual hopefulness.

When we were dating and making plans to get married, he was in the Army and I was attending college. It seemed like it would be forever before we actually married. He explained to me how to manage. Thanksgiving came first, then Christmas and New Year’s. February brought Ground Hog’s Day as well as the President’s birthdays. March marked the first anniversary of our first date. April ushered in his birthday. Our wedding date was set for May 18th. Although it seems kind of silly, I have never forgotten it. I had not been taught to hope or celebrate. It was the beginning of my education in hope.

I am starting to look for hope everywhere. I am learning to hope in God. We hope that Christmas will be a wonderful time of year. Hope points us back to joy. Every day we have opportunity to celebrate. Let’s hope based on God’s character and faithfulness instead of wishful thinking. God has given us great reason for hope. He sent his son even though we did nothing to deserve it. He gave us Christmas.

Romans 5 opens with these thoughts: Then being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have had access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we glory in the hope of the glory of God. And not only so, but we glory also in afflictions, knowing that affliction works out patience, and patience works out proven character; and proven character, hope. And the hope does not put us to shame, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit given to us; for we yet being without strength, in due time Christ died for ungodly ones.

This is my hope for the week: that I will hope in God each day knowing that his love has been given to me.

Peace

The angels sang "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men," to the shepherds. Jesus brings peace. Psalms 34 tell us to seek peace and pursue it.

This week, my plan is to pursue peace because it looks like a whirlwind coming. Last week, I found a reason for joy every day. A couple of days it was small but I found something. Tuesday, I have a rehearsal and a concert. Thursday I am going to collect Aaron from the airport and run him around a little. I will be doing some cooking/baking/cleaning/organizing as I prepare for next Sunday's party with the whole family. I can see how many things I have to do. My heart is already jumping ahead of me. I already feel like I'm running behind.

We define peace as an absence of stress, noise and difficulty. We see it as a manger with a baby and his parents. Having a child born away from home in a barn is not a peaceful circumstance. What they had was God's peace in the midst of their circumstances. That's different than having peace where there are no interruptions or responsibilities. It's easy to have a peaceful day if you have nothing to do and nowhere to go. You can shut off the phone; you can ignore the door; you can sit in the living room without the television on. That can be peaceful. Sometimes it's not, though, because you carry swirling thoughts and emotions around with you. There's no pressure from outside; it comes from inside.

The Christmas baby brings peace. Jesus told his disciples: I leave peace to you; My peace I give to you. Not as the world gives I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, nor let it be timid. This is my hook for this week.

Joy

Thanksgiving has left us in its wake as we prepare for the next wave of celebration known as Christmas. Advent is a time to prepare. My family knows me as a bit of a Scrooge—this is not my favorite time of year. I want to to live expectantly; to know how to live in the knowledge that Jesus can show up at my door momentarily. This year, I want to apply that to Christmas. Aaron will be arriving home around the 12th of December. There is a sense of expectancy. Our 29th anniversary is on the 13th. We've decided to wait and decorate for the holidays on the 14th. We've planned a party. My son, who has been away almost 6 months, is coming home.

I want to live so that each day is a party; to find a reason to celebrate each day instead of cataloging my numerous petty complaints. Instead of feeling obligation and duty, I will find ways to make it a joyous time. I will not let preparation become drudgery. I make and do things at this time of year that don't happen at any other time. It's not a prison sentence; it's an opportunity to bless those around me.

I want to celebrate each day because as I grow older my days become more precious. Yesterday was a lovely day. Dwayne, Joshua, Becky and Chris were at the dinner table. My youngest sister, Kim, also joined us. Aaron, in South Carolina, called 4 or 5 times. There was more than enough food. We laughed and told family stories. I will make each day a festival instead of those rare prescribed days. Proverbs 15:15 says this: Every day is a terrible day for a miserable person, but a cheerful heart has a continual feast.

I am aiming for the perpetual party. I pray that each of you will have an uninterrupted feast this Christmas. I pray that the pressure of your lives will not crowd Jesus out of your days. Nehemiah 8:10 says this: Then he said unto them, Go your way, eat the fat, and drink the sweet, and send portions unto them for whom nothing is prepared: for this day is holy unto our Lord: neither be ye sorry; for the joy of the LORD is your strength.

The more things change...

The more they stay the same. With less responsibility at home, my workload ramped up. I play the piano for the musical at our local school. Those 3 weeks meant rehearsals nearly every day. Having my father-in-law in the nursing home means several visits to him each week. Although things changed, I've still been very busy. School has called Dwayne to drive bus more so he has been busier too. It's a different type of busy, though.

I've waited many years to have time to write. Now that I have it, I barely know what to do with it. I want to write but I find myself thinking about it much more than actually writing. I guess that my problem was not so much time as fear. Can I write? Do I really want to write? What should I write? Who would want to read anything I have to say anyway? Sounds silly when I actually put it in writing but I think those questions have paralyzed me these last few weeks.

I started NaNoWriMo aka National Novel Writing Month. I committed myself to writing a 50,000 word novel during the month of November. I hit a brick wall and instead of sticking it out eased up. My plan is to write like a crazy woman this week to catch up. There’s no law that says I have to do it in a timely manner. I can do it. I’ve done it before and I can do it again.

Thanksgiving is quickly approaching and I want to share my list. I’m grateful to God for His love and care. I’m thankful that he has given us His word so we can know Him. I’m glad that I have a husband that loves me and wonderful children that make me proud. I’m glad that Dwayne and I are able to serve God and others as we co-pastor the Kuyahoora Community Church. I am grateful that I can play the piano at school and at church and wherever else the opportunity arises. I have a home, clothes, food and every other thing that is necessary so there’s no reason not to be grateful. God is good and I am thankful. Have a blessed Thanksgiving and don’t forget to count your blessings.

To say that change has become the theme of my life is to admit that I have lost control. I love to know what is happening next and how it is going to come about. I want everything in its place. That has ceased to happen. I am now admitting that change is forever the theme for all of life everywhere--especially mine. It's the one thing that happens regularly. I'm just now saying that it happens regularly in my life.

My son decided that it was time for him to move to a group home. He did not “come home” from the hospital. He is out of the hospital and in a lovely home about 6 miles from here. He can walk to all of his appointments. He seems to be enjoying it very much. He is not completely settled in but he is no longer living here. He celebrated his 28th birthday last month so this presents a different way of living for us.

Saturday morning, my father-in-law came into our office much later than his usual rising time. He was still in his pajamas and very disoriented. Dwayne thought it would be best for him to see a doctor. Between that decision and leaving the house, he decided it would be best to go to an emergency room. He suffered a minor stroke. It affects his ability to process information which explains why there has been such a noticeable change in his thoughts. He says his left hearing aid is broken and he can’t see well from his left eye for a few weeks. Other than these changes, there are no classical stroke symptoms.

Now we’re home alone. We have longed for it; wished for it and wept for it yet it feels odd. We can eat dinner whenever we feel like it. We can lollygag and start our day when we’re ready. We are becoming reacquainted with no overarching need that requires us to address it. It may only be for a few weeks. I’m planning to enjoy it and embrace it even though we may be day to day caregivers again.

God, however, remains constant. None of this surprises him. He still knows my name and promises to stay with me.

Isaiah said this: But now so says Jehovah who formed you, O Jacob; and He who made you, O Israel: Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I called you by your name; you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk in the fire, you shall not be burned, nor shall the flame kindle on you. (Is. 43:1, 2)

This week finds me trying to catch my breath. My son was hospitalized last Wednesday. My father-in-law's mind is slipping quickly. He's been home 3 weeks and every day, there's a change in his cognitive ability. It becomes tougher to take care of him because he's less able to help us.

Do we seem like this when God looks at us? Do we seem sick or unable to think when we take our trouble to him? Do we seem like a small child who can't manage? I have been learning that my attitude toward these two does not match God's attitude toward me. He does not resent me when I'm unclear. He does not find it surprising when I lose my footing and need to take a break. He tenderly cares for me. I'm learning (very slowly) that God leads me every day. When I rant and rave and express my anger, he listens to me and instructs me in what I need--not what I want. When I grieve, he holds me and lets me cry. When I'm happy, he rejoices with me. I have one note and it's aggravation. It's not attractive and it's not like Christ.

God asks me to walk more slowly. He asks me to be patient and live with their capabilities. They have limitations that affect us. We all have imperfections. God doesn't get angry with us for our shortcomings. He teaches us how to live with them and do what we can in spite of them. It's a hard lesson to learn and a hard way to learn it.

In Psalm 32:8, God says, "I will instruct you and teach you in the way which you should go; I will counsel you, My eye shall be on you. "

I trust that he will continue to teach me and counsel me and keep his eye on me. I need it.

Life Happens

Life has been happening.  It got interrupted and now we're falling back into our normal.  We flew to Ft. Knox, Kentucky on September 18th.  We weren't sure we'd be able to see our son Aaron but the plans were made.  We got off the plane, picked up our rental car and my phone rang.  It was Aaron saying that he was available as soon as we could get there.  We picked him up (after we found him) and spent all day with him and a buddy.  We took them for dinner and a little shopping.  It was a great day.  It was good to see that he had made it through basic training well.  He is more confident than we have ever known him to be.  We spent Friday sight-seeing and flew back on Saturday. 

Joshua contracted a cold while we were gone.  My father-in-law returned home Wednesday.  Dwayne's brother Dale drove him home.  We appreciated that. He had a cold when he got back.  Dad also came home with a broken hearing aid and a to-do list.  Within a few days, even Dwayne had a cold. 

In the meantime, my rehearsals have started for the fall show.  We're putting Bye Bye, Birdie together.  It means that I don't have as much time to myself as I would like. Last week was spent at appointments--doctors, butchers, bakers and candlestick makers--as well as rehearsals.  This week will be spent in much the same way.  Hopefully we can get these finished and the schedule will relax a little. 

As I was saying, life happens.  Every day new challenges crop up.  Sometimes it's the sameness of each day.  I enjoy life when there is something unusual--a graduation, a special birthday, a wedding.  I don't like it much when it's the same as yesterday.  I want to enjoy life as it happens. 

Autumn

Changes continue to flow through my days. My job is changing to fewer and perhaps no hours. My father-in-law is heading back to New York next week. Our days are often sunny and moderately warm. The evenings cool down and I sleep comfortably.

It’s the long good-bye before winter. It is a luxurious good-bye. We’re greeted with beautiful blue sky this time of year. The colors assault my eyes. Deep reds, blaze oranges and pale golds peep from summer’s green. They congregate in stands on hills. Leaves start to fall and disappear into the browns of tree trunks, fields and late fall.

The biggest change in our lives this year has been the inclusion of Dwayne’s dad into our home. Dwayne often speaks of the autumn of our parents’ lives. Fall is what prepares us for winter. I never have been as aware of this as I am now. We watch as his dad slows down and things become harder for him. I have begun to understand this cycle of life. Dwayne grew up in a nursing home. He watched many people grow old. This is a new experience for me and it has been exclusively with his Mom and Dad. Mom’s autumn was very, very brief. Dad is having a long and luxurious autumn. The colors are vivid and bright. As leaves fall, we become accustomed to those changes. We are privileged to spend his fall and winter with him. Life is a gift; tenuous at best. I’m learning to love this time with Dad as much as I love autumn in central New York.

A Rose by Any Other Name

This morning, Dwayne asked me to e-mail him the link to my blog. He’s building a website for us to share. When I looked at the website, I noticed that he refers to me as ‘Madre’ which sent me down another rabbit trail. My real name is not Sue—never has been. When I was born, my parents picked out 2 different names. My father left the hospital and forgot to communicate a vital piece of information—which one he preferred. My mother chose the other name. When I came home from the hospital, my dad nicknamed me Sue. I answer to my legal name but only if I’m in serious trouble. I have close relatives that don’t know my real name. It’s a fact of my life. I went to the bank for my father-in-law recently and the teller was surprised. She knew me but was unaware of my “real” name.

Madre is another story altogether. When we moved to Newport in 1995, we met a man who greeted Dwayne with “Hello, Padre.” The nickname stuck and became the name of our pizzeria. When I ran the pizzeria, I became Madre. My employees called me that. Even our own children have been known to call me that. It’s another name associated with a different part of my life.

God knows our names. He has written mine in the Book of Life. He knows who we are no matter what we call ourselves. Even when we feel like we have no name, God calls us by name. He even tells us so in Isaiah 43:1 and 2:

But now so says Jehovah who created you, O Jacob, and He who formed you, O Israel; Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned; nor shall the flame kindle on you.

He not only calls us by name but walks with us through life—all of it.

Roses Will Bloom Again

As September opens with its sunny days, cool air and turning leaves, my family is experiencing change. My son just came home from the hospital for the third time in four months. My father-in-law is away visiting family for a few weeks. My husband just changed jobs. I start a new job this week. When you think you’ve got your schedule/family/life figured out, a change occurs. Your health might change. You might lose a spouse or a child. Your financial status can change. A job can be gained or lost. The changes are as many as the people that experience them.

There are two things in our lives that are constant. One is that Dwayne and I have loved each other for 29 years. Our love has waxed and waned over the years—even that is not perfect. We have three children, two boys and a girl. We survived five years in the Army together, including 3 years in Germany. We lived with my parents for a year. We even weathered the change while becoming a pastor’s family. I never wanted to be a pastor’s wife. I grew up in a parsonage. In fact, I am the great-granddaughter, grand-daughter, daughter and wife of a pastor. When Dwayne discovered that God was calling him to be a pastor, I went kicking and screaming all the way. That was 18 years ago. We moved 19 times in 28 years of marriage. We survived the severe chronic illness of our oldest son, the gain and loss of a business we loved, the loss of friends, the loss of jobs, the loss of grandparents and this year, the loss of Dwayne’s mom. Our middle son enlisted in the Army and spent the summer in basic training. Our daughter married last year. Our lives perpetually change. We’ve determined that we are not alone. Every life has an undercurrent of change, even if it doesn’t appear so.


The other, and most important constant, in our lives is our faith. Our faith in Jesus Christ has literally held us together. We could not walk through these variations on a theme without the love of God. It permeates our lives like the fragrance of a rose that has been cut and brought inside. He has loved us when we were obedient and He has loved us when we weren’t. All of our lives, God’s hand held us steady even when our world shattered. We learned that roses bloom again. It is part of the cycle of our lives. There is a time for roses to die and lie dormant and a time for them to blossom. They bloom in the garden every year. They bloom in our lives when God tells them to. Roses will always bloom again.

Contact Me

E-mail: suedurand@live.com

Snail mail: PO Box 50
Middleville, NY 13406-0050

About Me

Hi, I'm Sue Durand. I am a woman, wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend. I am a pianist at church and school. I’m a writer. I've been a wife for 29 years and a pastor's wife for the last 16. When we planted our church 2 years ago, I became co-pastor. It's an extension of my family history. My father, grandfather, great-grandfather and great-aunts were pastors.

I’ve become a reluctant expert on mental illness—at least the one that shares my son with us--as well as the OCD that gallops through our family.