Eulogy for Granny Carlton

Mary Elizabeth Carlton was mine and the other grandkids Granny Carlton. Granny Carlton was many things to many people.  She wore many hats and held many positions, but what I know of her was this.  She was strong.  She was one of the strongest women I knew. She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty and to work hard.  I remember that she always made sure that I knew that she was a tomboy at heart. She hated wearing dresses as a young girl and probably climbed every tree in this town.  She told stories about the long hours spent playing and getting into mischief.  I always thought she was a force to be reckoned with growing up, never afraid of the heavy lifting - physically and figuratively.  My mom, Kathryn, told me the other day that Granny could back a horse trailer in one move.  That’s impressive. I can imagine that all of her years at the welfare department, and later as a fraud investigator, that she was a strong advocate and in the very same breath not much got past her. She also was a security officer in Ruidoso at the racehorse track.  I remember thinking that was intense, yet pretty cool that my grandma was a security officer.  Let’s not forget that she also birthed 4 babies…big babies, 12 lb babies, without any medication and that is STRONG. Not only did she birth those babies, she raised them, and any parent here knows the kind of strength that takes. She was also strong in watching her husband endure years of illness and change in his body suddenly and then over time. And while she was strong in that, she was also empathetic.  I knew her as a caregiver.  From my earliest memories of her, I can remember her taking care of Papa Carlton, preparing his food.  She spent much time in the kitchen making sure he got a good meal that he could eat well following mouth cancer and surgery.  She did this til his very last day.  I can remember her making his meal first and serving him while the rest of us waited to eat.  I can remember her taking care of Mama Carlton like she was her own mom, and she and Jo Ann taking care of Eeney so well. Later she was such a good caretaker for Uncle Jack and loved him so well and he loved her --- They really had a lot of fun together and were pretty hysterical together too.  Nursing homes and assisting others was never foreign to me because wherever my Granny and Mom where, someone was being served and cared for.  We all know what an incredible caretaker Jo Ann is also. It clearly runs in the blood of the Rutherford girls and has been passed down so very well as a lasting legacy on how to love well.  Granny was also an artist.  She could sketch some of the most beautiful drawings in a few minutes.  Recently she sketched some beautiful drawings for my girls.  She could also outsew the best of them.  I have always admired anyone who could sew special things and that was Granny.  She made my mom’s wedding dress and several other dresses.  I loved wearing a beautiful white halter Granny made for mom in High school…I thought it was so fancy.  Later in life she helped my mom sew medical play dolls for Cook Children’s where I work and helped us deliver a few times. She was a lover family on so many levels.  She loved genealogy and knowing her roots.  She studied and taught it to all of us.  She thought it was so important to know where you came from.  She also was an amazing storyteller.  She told the best stories and you would always felt like you were right there. She not only told her own stories, but she cared about other people and wanted to know their stories and then she would tell their stories.  I love that. That is legacy, that is how we honor others, by embracing their stories. Granny was also a woman of faith.  It wasn’t until my college years that she and I talked openly about the Lord.  But I can remember our conversations and I can remember one of them moving me to tears…I don’t remember why, but I remember that the Spirit was strong, and it was the first time that I understood just how much my Granny loved her Savior.  She loved teaching Sunday school at her churches Oak Park United Methodist in Paris and Wesley United Methodist in White Settlement and leading people in the Word., and I imagine she was good at it though I only got to be in one of her classes.  Here in the last few months Granny would take her Bible with her around her living area. One day my dad asked her what she liked to read and she told him that she opened it up and read whatever was there.   I have some great memories of Granny, but a few that come to mind was when I was probably seven and we were visiting Papa and Granny in Bryan. She tried to tell me that the tuna fish sandwich she made for me was actually chicken salad.  I knew she was tricking me, but she made me try it and I hated it and I didn’t eat it. And later in seventh grade, my family was getting ready to relocate to California for a short time.  I was begging my parents to please, please let me live with my best friend for the year so that I didn’t have to leave behind all my people. Granny took me into my room, sat on the bed next to me and firmly looked at me and said, “You will go where your family goes. Now you are not going to ask about it being a different way. You will honor your mother and daddy and you will go.”  I went. I have fond memories of Granny and Papa living on Lake Fork.  I think they are the fondest because the family was often all together.  I remember catching fish off the dock with Papa and having holiday celebrations. I loved that house that they designed and built because there was a porch all the way around it.  It was also really special to me that Granny was born on her mom’s birthday - her 19^th birthday and that she and I shared a birthday month. I also loved that Granny always called me "sweet angel" and she went on to call all my girls sweet angels too.  Now she is surrounded by sweet angels.

This is the first time I have had to really articulate what I believe about death and Heaven because I have 3 little girls, and two have lots of questions.  And I’m so grateful to know where Granny’s spirit is residing and what beauty she is beholding in the Glorious Light of Jesus.  That assurance is amazing. But life is not always easy and these moments, they are hard, sometimes, debilitating.  We long for something more… And yet, they are sacred moments.  They are what I like to call thin moments, holy moments, the moments where Heaven is breaking into earth and we are seeing a picture of the Kingdom.  One of those moments is now. But there have been lots of those moments in the last few months.  And there have been many people who have entered into these moments with our family.  I want to honor and recognize all the caregivers who chose to hang in these moments and embrace them as hard and difficult as they have been.  As a healthcare professional, I know what an honor and privilege it is to share these moments with a family and be invited into their story.  As I was leaving from seeing Granny on Thursday, I thanked Vikki the hospice nurse that was with Granny, and she replied, “It is an honor.” And I deeply understood what she meant. It’s an honor to usher life into this world, and it’s an honor to usher lives into the Kingdom.  Along with mom, Kathryn, my dad, Mark, my Uncle Robert, and Jo Ann, Granny’s sister, there were a host of ushers that surrounded Granny these last few months.  Barbara cared for Granny selflessly for several months and loved her well.  My husband, Ross, and coworker Richard loved and cared for Granny for several months as her home health team. And she loved them and felt safe with them, often recognizing them and calling them over for a chat. Later hospice took over and Audrey cared for and loved Granny.  Other ushers are Vikki, Shellie, Renee, Sasha, Dee, Sandra, Michelle, Henrietta, Vanessa, Lisa, Rosie, Ann Marie, and Tiffany. Shellie asked me the other night if I remembered what she promised me…I didn’t remember, but she reminded me that she promised to be there for Granny from the day she arrived to the day she went home.  That was true of all of these women and men. It is a beautiful and sacred act of worship to hang in the moments of life with people. May you all know the Prince of Peace and the Glory of Kingdom and may you know the beauty of the Kingdom you brought as Granny’s ushers and friends.  We love you, thank you and honor you. 

Hanging by a Moment

There's an old Lifehouse song called Hanging by A Moment...I'm hanging by a moment here with you...

These lyrics have been at the forefront of my mind all week.  While this is a love song, I have literally felt like I'm hanging by a moment...during so many moments.

I've been asking the Lord a lot about the tension of life. Our natural tendency is to avoid tension.  Our natural tendency is to get to the other side.  I've had a picture all week of a tight rope walker hanging from the tension of the line.

I mean this can't be comfortable for long.  There has got to be a moment where you are thinking why the hell did I do this whole thing in the first place? And then the other question of why did I think it would be a good idea to hang...I could have just kept going...run to the other side.

And I feel like most of the time you don't consciously decide to hang...something (falling) got you to this place of hanging in the tension.  But do you decide to stay and enjoy the view or panic?  I mean look at that view.  I think I would panic, thinking that I hated this moment...this moment wasn't planned or calculated, it looks bad (like I don't know what I'm doing) and it's really uncomfortable.  Or I could choose to just be here for a moment.  I wish there was a picture of more than one person out there hanging...cause that's the real deal.

I feel like I have become quite comfortable with hanging.  I'm starting to think that the hanging is actually the whole thing.  Hanging in the tension, hanging in the moment, being okay with the uncomfortable, the scary, the awkward, dare I say, the MESS that we are all in.  I'm starting to believe it's the holy...the sacred.  More sacred than the other side or never going at all.  

There is an epidemic in our world to not hang in the awkward, tense moments...to hate MESS.  Instead we should have thought about how to avoid those moments and planned better, have a gallant way of fixing the moment to make it feel less awkward and hard, or figure out how to get yourself across and save yourself to the other side as fast as possible.  You will get a standing ovation for getting to the other side, but have you ever seen anyone cheer for the guy hanging?  It's only at cirque du soleil that those people get cheered on and only because everyone is sitting there thinking, "I could never do that."

But what if we hung...in the tension...by the moment.  What if we were okay with the uncomfortable and really present in the hard?  What if we chose to get up and hang with someone instead of watching from one side of the other and offering suggestions, opinions or judgements?  I'm just saying, I'm cheering on the hangers over here! 

This week I've stood with a friend as her husband was arrested. I held her baby while she talked to family. It was awkward and hard, and I believe it goes down as one of the holiest moments with the Lord to date.  And I've watched my mom hang in the tension of life and death with her own mom.  And I've watched my girls actually sit in the moment and embrace it.  They have been totally okay with the hard and requested to be a part of it...and they have not panicked once.  Neither has my mom.  She has been there. Embracing the awkward, hard, hanging moment.  And it is sacred and beautiful and holy.  And HE IS THERE. HE IS MORE THERE THAN ANYWHERE. EMMANUEL...GOD WITH US.

I kind of think that all of life is actually right there in the middle of the tight rope.  Creation on one side and the New Earth on the other... In case you didn't know, we are all out there awkwardly hanging upside down.  So all us crazy's that think we've made it or we would never get ourselves in such a conundrum, I've got news for us...it's called life.  And we are all hanging by a moment.

My Carrot Seed

There's a fabulous children's book out there called The Carrot Seed.

It goes like this:

"A little boy planted a carrot seed. 

His mother said, 'I'm afraid it won't come up.'

His father said, 'I'm afraid it won't come up.'

And his big brother said, 'It won't come up.'

Every day the little boy pulled up the weeds around the seed and sprinkled the ground with water.

But nothing came up.

And nothing came up.

Everyone kept saying it wouldn't come up.

But still he pulled up the weeds around it every day and sprinkled the ground with water.

And then, one day,

a carrot came up

just as the little boy had known it would."

I have a carrot seed that I feel like God planted years ago.  It is the seed of gentleness.  And years ago I had the faith that it would spring forth and I would become more and more gentle.  And I've heard it all...I've been called every opposite of gentle: fierce (my favorite), aggressive (most recently), passionate, intense, etc, etc.  But gentleness is a fruit of the Holy Spirit.  It is not something that can't be.  It can be...it's how it ought to be in me.  And I feel like the little boy.  I hear it all, I try to weed the garden every day (not always and not always with his faith), and Nothing comes up!  But I still believe it will.  

I have been reading this book called Sacred Rhythms by Ruth Haley Barton with a dear sister. It's a the most validating book I've read in a long time. It is so validating of my heart, emotions and placement in my walk with Jesus.  In one chapter she talks about waiting for the Lord to change our hearts.  She says, "Just like everything else that is of significance in the spiritual life, God must accomplish this for us. That is why all we can do is pray and wait..." Later she writes, "This period of waiting may feel very dark. But strangely enough, it will also feel deeply right - as if we are right where we need to be."  Yes...  while The Carrot Seed doesn't depict the darkness of pulling the weeds everyday, we all know that pulling up the weeds of life and our own sin can be intensely dark.  So much so that we often don't really do it.  That's why I mentioned that "every day"is not yet the kind of faith that I have.  It's tedious, and unlike the boy with the carrot seed, I find it much easier to believe the hecklers and voices that the Enemy far more than I believe that carrot is going to come up!  

I am finding myself far more comfortable in my life as a sinner than I ever have.  I am uncomfortable with the sin but so very much more comfortable knowing that I am in fact a sinner with more sin that I can ever "deal" with.  I am finding that this place of waiting for breakthrough and change, while it feels so very dark, it is also so very right.  I used to spend all my time talking myself out of being a sinner.  Who wants to be a sinner full of dark, ugly sin?  I would justify it and talk about it lightly like it was going away and that because of the cross of Christ I could ignore it now.  But I am finding myself learning how to be comfortable with the idea and uncomfortable with staying here.  And I think it is so very right.  I don't believe in playing in your sin or wallowing in it so much that it is debilitating. But to be real and to LIVE knowing how much you need the cross, and hope and grace, it is so very freeing.  

There is an older Shane and Shane song that has become my breath prayer...one part goes like this...

"Be near, oh God. Your nearness to us is our good..."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ml5dZJSRXSY

His nearness is what I want. It's what I need.  I need to Him to be so close that He is my good!  His nearness is what produces the carrot.  It's the water.  It's the weeding.  I need Him so very near. My good is only and ever wrapped up in Him.  

So I wait for the carrot seed of gentleness to spring forth.  And I believe that it is coming.  And I have seen glimpses of the carrot.  

You know what I love about the book... The last page when the carrot comes up... It's HUGE.  It's so big that the little boy is wheeling it away in a wheelbarrow.  Yes, and Amen!  Let it be, Lord.  

 

Cause I don't know what to say...

I cried while I made a grilled cheese this afternoon…stood at the stove and wept. Cause I don’t know what to say.  I’m sure that there are several people out there like me. The events of the world in the last few days may be the last thing you’ve been thinking about. Last night I sat across from my husband in utter shame at the mom I’ve become lately. Things at our house, in our very small world, have seemed too big for Jesus lately.  I’m not wanting pity, just being real. Our home has been hard. I have prayed and prayed and prayed (FOR YEARS) for my words to become more gentle and for my heart to be more calm, but more often than not, my girls are getting an angry mom with harsh words that reflect little of the love of Christ. And last night there was nothing to say or do but weep and beg the Spirit yet again to change me. 

And I scrolled through Facebook a little bit the last couple of days and saw the horrible things that had happened. (Facebook is the only news I sadly have time for.) Murder and lives lost and people so very confused and people so very passionate and so very hurt.  And I hurt cause I don’t know what to say, not because I don’t want to or think that I need to but because I’m lost in my own sin and the sin of my kids and husband most days.  We are finding freedom, but we are not fully living in it.  Then I woke up today and saw more injustice. Five more people lost their lives and a city mourned and more confusion, more passion, more hurt.  I read a lot of Facebook and asked my heart what I really thought about the last 72 hours, the last year, years and years of injustice and oppression.  And I hate it. My heart can barely handle what really happens in the world every day. Then I rolled over in bed to look at my husband who I yelled at and cried with just last night over the intensity of our home. I just thought, we need Him to deliver us.  All of us. So I posted a scripture about Him having the victory over all. 

And I know that there is more for ME to do and say.  But today I don’t have words.  I find myself in utter despair over my own sin daily that I can’t seem to find the breath to despair over the sin infecting our world.  There are books that I want to read and articles I want to engage in.  But right now, today, I am working on engaging the heart of a five year old who struggles with anger (so does her mama), who is super smart, incredibly thoughtful, and who says some dang hurtful things but I LOVE HER SO.  And I want her to know how to LOVE above all.  I want her to know how to have hard conversations and engage people she doesn’t agree with.  I want her to see people’s hearts and be able to discern the heart of the Lord.  I want my three year old to learn that my voice matters in her life and my words and rules and requests are for her good and because I LOVE her.  And we are failing over here.  We are not loving well within our home each day.  We are not teaching how to love well some days.  Most days my mouth is so out of control and then everything is so out of control.  And we need to do it well HERE, so we can do it well out there.  I've been teaching my girls about the Holy Spirit because as much as we want Jesus to be here now, He is!  And living by the Spirit means that we can bring Heaven to earth now.  And I believe that's what we all need to be doing...I'm just messing it up daily over here.  But Spirit of the Living God fall afresh on me...please.  And on my home and family and on this world. 

I’m a white girl, living in Fort Worth, Texas. I grew up moving around, being the new girl and the minority in several places.  People being different colors than me and different backgrounds than me isn’t hard for me.  I am actually most comfortable in a place that represents ALL people.  I went to an international school and met all kinds of people.  Now, I graduated from what most would consider a privileged white suburban school, and it was new for me and the transition back to it was hard every time for me.  Most parents thought their kids did no wrong and were allowed to break most laws with little consequence. Thankfully I have a group of friends who all of our parents held us accountable, and we were expected to obey and be kind.  College was the best because it was like growing up for me overseas and in California, everyone came together…all cultures and people.  I LOVED it.  I work at a hospital now and my job is to serve and love and help whoever walks through the door…not only serve but put myself in their world for a moment and be there and help them and their kiddo cope through a hard time.  And I know how to do that.  It’s so natural to me and I love it.  And I have friends all over and of all colors and backgrounds.  I want more. I want my kids to have the same experiences, but I find myself feeling overwhelmed with even that desire because these last several months we’ve had a hard time even having our closest friends over or engaging anything new and different. But I want to hear more stories and know more hearts and be there.   

I think there is so much more I could do or say or be in all of this.  I know that there is.  And I have goals and desires to grow my world and my views and my perspectives.  But today I am weeping because it’s all so awful and I feel like the best thing I can do is to figure my crap out…my sin and try to teach my children how to LOVE everyone that they meet and come in contact with NO MATTER WHAT to be kind and to show love, to right their wrongs and to make choices that honor God and that make their heart sing.  And I have to start in my own home, in my own van, in my own heart.  And I just keep weeping cause I want more.  I want to see change HERE, in Texas, in the US and the world.  And I want Jesus to be here with me…right with me…whispering in my ear, cause GOD I NEED HIM. 

And this image I've wept over all morning.  I cannot imagine the emotions in this picture.  I cannot imagine the thoughts or the feelings or the story behind it.  But when I try...I am UNDONE.