Of Rainbows, Balloons, Butterflies and Angels

Of Rainbows, Balloons, Butterflies and Angels: 

A Tribute in Memory of Alyssa Nicole "Sissy" Ashby

June 6, 1983- August 3, 1999

It is now 14 years since the death of our Angel, Alyssa Nicole "Sissy" Ashby.  Were she alive, she would be 30 years old.  It is just hard to believe.  


The picture below is the last picture that was taken of Sissy before her death.  The picture was taken on Saturday and Sissy died on Tuesday.  I had been out to the McMurry camp.  On my way back to town, I picked up one of those "Big Gulp" drinks.  When I got to the house, the cup was pretty full.  And, it took a while but, sip by sip, Sissy began to manipulate the cup.  Each time she lifted it, she got tickled about it...Eventually, she was able to pick the whole cup up.  The higher she lifted the cup, the more tickled she became with herself...until we were all full out laughing.  Fay even warned me to stop.  She said, "You know Sissy has a bad heart.  Don't get her too over-excited."



The following Tuesday, Sissy was scheduled for a procedure.  And, that was the day that God took her home.  We celebrated her life two days later.


I have to say that it was a pretty amazing service.  The church was packed.  The theme of the service was "Of Butterflies, Rainbows, Angels and Balloons."  There were a couple of hundred balloons throughout the whole sanctuary.  There were butterflies every where!  It was really beautiful.

Following the service, we invited everyone to grab a balloon and follow us out to the cemetery for a balloon release.  Normally, only immediate family and very close friends process to the cemetery.  Honestly, there had to be more than 200 people there.  We had planned the graveside service to be near the time of sunset.  We gathered there in the cemetery, as Bette Midler crooned "Wind Beneath My Wings."  Following the completion of the song, I instructed, the family first, to release the balloons.  

It was a hot summer afternoon.  There was just a slight breeze. But, then, the most amazing thing happened!  All of the balloons drifted heavenward in the direction of the setting sun---except for one.  There was one balloon that just had a harder time catching up with the others.  It lagged, noticeably behind.  Someone called attention to it and said, "Look!  It's handicapped just like Sissy."  Then, in moments, those balloons formed what seemed to be a gigantic heart in the sky.  It was amazing!  (We even have a picture of it somewhere.)

The principal support network for parents of those who have Tri-Somy 18 is called S.O.F.T.  At the organization's annual meeting, there is a balloon launch.   It is called the Ryan Cantrell Memorial Balloon launch.  Each year, the children who have died with Trisomy throughout all of the years, are named and a balloon is sent heavenward in their name.   The balloon release had already been celebrated in July before Sissy's death.  Still, while we were finishing our celebration at the cemetery, there were balloons from all over the country that were sent heavenword in Sissy's name.  There were our balloons, as well as balloons from Minnesota, Delaware and other places where the news of Sissy’s death has been made known throughout the country.

Following the balloon release, we headed back to the church for the most amazing party, unlike any other post-funeral party that I had ever been invited to!  Sissy had been NG tube fed every two to four hours for all of her life.  Her mom wanted a party with all of the things that Sissy could not eat for those 16 years: candy, cake, pizza, ice cream...it was a feast!

In one of the prayers of our in the Committal service, we pray, "For all that (Name) has given to make us what we are, for that of him/her which lives and grows in each of us, and for his/her life that in your love will never end, we give you thanks..."  

Sis,  thank you for that part of you that lives and grows in me... 

Baby, it's cold outside

Wednesday I ran all around Alexandria. It was cool but, in no way, was it cold outside. In fact, at Sam's, I met a woman tooling around in a beautiful 2012 Mercedes Benz convertible... With the top down!

The purpose of my travel: to purchase sleeping bags, blankets and heavy sweatshirts for some of the homeless/street livers in the CenLa area. Earlier this week, the weather folks had forecast an unusual deep freeze for the CenLa area on Thursday night. The items that I purchased were to be added to the already collected items donated by our church members in our "Warmth for the Winter" mission initiative. (All totaled: 37 blankets, 21 sleeping bags, 26 heavy sweatshirts, 31 scarves, 19 jackets, 4 pr of gloves, and 8 pr of socks will be given to the Homeless Coalition of Alexandria and the volunteers of America for their street ministry... job well done, Horseshoe Drive UMC)!

Thursday morning Lori Williams, and other CenLa V.O.A.stopped by Horseshoe Drive United Methodist Church to pick these items up and distribute them to the clients that they serve on behalf of the Homeless Coalition and V.O.A.of CEnLa.

Well, it is Thursday night and, as the song intones, "Baby, it's cold outside!" 

But, I am not outside. 

I am inside. I count myself fortunate to be warm on a cold, winter's night such as this. 

So, I am thankful. I m thankful to be sheltered from the below freezing temps. 

I am thankful for agencies such as the Homeless Coalition of CenLA and the Volunteers of America of CenLa who become an extension of the CenLa local churches and the people of CenLa to meet the needs of those who are homeless/street livers and the marginalized poor in our community. 

I am thankful for the Manna House, who 365 days a year makes sure that there is a hot meal for those who need it in our community. 

I am thankful for those who through the generosity of our church (and other churches, synagogues and temples in our community) who serve the poor.

In the end, it is all given to the glory of God that we may be partners in building the Kingdom present.

May God richly bless all,

rev. tracy

“Sure Was a Tough Night…”

Stormy…it’s stormy here in Central Louisiana this morning.  Interestingly enough, it is not only stormy on the outside but, it’s a bit stormy on the inside, as well. 

It was billed as the game of the century…# 1 vs. # 2…two defensive titans of football in an epic battle. 

I gotta say it was a tough night if you are an LSU fan…LSU player…LSU coach…LSU maintenance person…it was a tough night if you were an LSU anything…and, the stormy overcast is perfect metaphor for the “morning after.”  And, I must say, it had to be much more than a tough night for those more than one hundred coaches, players and personnel that we call “The LSU Tigers.” 

Just for a moment, let’s put a few things in perspective:

• ·        It was an amazing LSU football season!  13-0…”still the only undefeated team with impressive wins over champs of Rose Bowl, Cotton bowl, SEC champions, and BCS Champs on home field.” (Thank you Rev. Fred Wideman.) 
• ·        Most of us, fans… well, except for maybe buying a new shirt… got our monies worth.  I have already heard a lot about, “what if you had paid $3500 to go and see that???” kind of thinking.  Special note to these:  if you are one of my friends and you have $3500 (or more) to spend on a football game, please put that check in the offering plate of your {or my} church and watch the game at home…just sayin’… Truth is not only did I not pay a penny to see the game, I didn’t even by a new shirt… I was saving my money for the Championship shirt, alas L.  A further truth:  in the days when I went to the stadium on a regular basis and paid for it, my beloved Tigers never got near a Championship. 
• ·        I am not a football coach.  I have been in several situations where I was a leader, however.  Leaders make tough, sometimes unpopular decisions.  It’s what they do.  No matter what the “post-game” rhetoric and morning after quarterbacking, I refuse to believe that any coach, coaching at the level of a “Les Miles,” would bring their team (much less everyone else alongside) to such a battle and simply, “hang them out to dry.”
• ·        (Add your numerous other perspectives here…)

     1.      While you are at it…add your excuses here… it was wrong that we were playing Alabama, etc. etc. etc.

The ultimate perspective:  It’s just a game.  It is just a game:

between two college rivals… most of whom are twenty year old kids

who spend hours and weeks and months and years practicing, planning and preparing to perform at the highest level that can be expected of them

who grace that field every week to play… to offer their particular talent at the expense of personal exertion, exhaustion and potential injury

who, more than likely, once graduated from their college or university, will only pick up a pigskin again for the holiday family game of touch football

and, as much as they do it for themselves, their teammates, their coaches, their schools, their families, their communities…they do it for the fans…the many, many, many of us who follow them and love them and are thankful for their play…

Lest we all take it too seriously, it’s just a game.

Katie D., a former youth, posted this: “As I said at work today, it's just a football game. I like to win (or like for my teams to win), but it's not going to cure cancer, feed the hungry, etc.”  Ah, a resurrection perspective…makes me so proud!

And, here, (while I hate to bring judgment), I have to wonder how so many of my Christian friends would post such intolerable, hateful, crude comments.  Don’t get me wrong, those who know me well know that I like to win.  But, really…so much hatin’ and harsh over a football game…really???  And, we wonder why the world calls us hypocrites. 

Well, I could write and reflect more…but, I am off to teach/lead a discussion in my Christian Believer Bible study, only twelve members (certainly not a stadium full), it’s free (one doesn’t even need a team t-shirt) and no matter what missteps that I may have, there will be no mutiny (if only because they are stuck with me)… This week’s lesson?  A little something called “Salvation.”  I know while on the surface it doesn’t stand up to such an epic battle as the quest for the National Championship…a bright, shiny, crystal ball…

Funny, though, it is the one thing that that we all need, don’t deserve, can’t earn, given freely, without judgment… because God so loved the world… ultimately, so much more important than a game…

Blessings,

tracy 

So, why doesn’t anything epiph on Epiphany anymore?

The word Epiphany means “manifestation” or “revelation.” The Wise Men are celebrated on Epiphany because they represented the revelation of Jesus to the Gentiles.

In the days when Epiphany was a great church feast, it also celebrated the revelation of Jesus in his first miracle–changing water into wine at Cana–and the manifestation of Jesus as the Son of God at his baptism. Those three things–the Wise Men, the Wedding at Cana, and the Baptism were all lumped together to symbolize the revelation of God in Jesus Christ, and such revelation was cause for great celebration.

That a baby was born in a manger was relatively unimportant, compared with the events that proved to the world who that baby was. The authority of Jesus was validated by the signs he performed–like changing water into wine–by the voice of God and descending dove at his baptism, and through signs in the heavens that could be interpreted by the Gentiles. Those signs were God’s way of saying, “Hey...this is the guy!” and Epiphany was the church’s way of saying, “And we can never be the same again.”

So why doesn’t anything epiph on Epiphany anymore?

Probably the best answer to this question is, simply, we no longer expect it. We no more expect God to be revealed in our midst than we expect stores to start giving away merchandise. And because we don’t expect it, we get what we expect. The early church was a church full of excitement and expectation. They anticipated the return of Jesus at any time, and the persecutions which they endured forced them to be aware of their faith and sometimes to die for their faith at all times.

Many of us today have lost that sense of excitement and expectation.

In the early church, the point of Epiphany was not to remember history, but to be reminded that God appears miraculously to us in places and in ways that we don’t expect. If we keep remembering that God seems to thrive on unexpected appearances and if we keep expecting to see God everywhere we turn, we are not too likely to miss it when it happens again.

The wedding at Cana was crowded, but only a few were aware that Jesus had worked a miracle in their midst. Most weren’t paying attention, except to realize that the wine was flowing again. They weren’t watching and missed an event that people have talked about for two thousand years. Bethlehem was so full of people that Mary and Joseph couldn’t even find a room to spend the night, but there is no indication that more than a handful paid any notice to the new life that changed all of history, bright stars and shepherd’s stories notwithstanding.

If we want anything to epiph in our lives, we had better begin by expecting it and watching for it.

How many times do you prepare for your day by asking God to be revealed in the middle of it? How many times do you prepare for church by asking God to speak to you in the music, in the sermon, in the others in the congregation? How many of us honestly, truly expect a real, life-changing encounter with God in our daily comings and goings? I can tell you that those few who do expect such things find them.

If you’re not expecting company, they might well show up when you are out, or asleep, or too busy in the back to hear the knocking on the door. If we don’t expect God to appear or to speak or touch our hearts; if we’re not looking for God at every turn and listening for God in every voice, chances are we’ll be as clueless as the guests at the wedding or the people in Bethlehem when God finally appears.

If we are looking…when we are looking…  the signs of God’s presence are all around us, as much outside the church as inside. God is there in the trees and ocean and sky...in nature in so many ways. God is in the delivery room and the funeral home. God is in the face of the one who gives comfort to the lonely, food to the hungry, love to the unlovable… God is all around us…even in unexpected places. 

We all meet God in different ways and at different times and places in our lives. The message of Epiphany is that God’s revealing work is more than just one moment in time.  God did not simply reveal God in the person of Jesus of Nazereth and that was that.  No, there was Easter...that bright and glorious morning when God blew the lid off of everybody’s ideas about what God could and couldn’t be and do. Come Easter morning, all bets were off...the tomb was empty and God was on the loose. He appeared and disappeared out of rooms. He was now here on the beach having breakfast and now there walking with disciples who had no clue who they were talking to.

The message of Epiphany...and Easter...is that God is not dead, dried out, and stuffed into your Bibles somewhere around the Psalms (Tony Campolo). God is alive and present and epiphaning here there and everywhere in the hopes that somebody will take notice and be receptive.

The God who was made manifest in Jesus of Nazareth lives and is still being made manifest somewhere, somehow in our lives…always.

I once met a woman whose husband had died over eight years before.  We were speaking of the assurances of the scripture…particularly of the assurance of the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit…I particularly like the Johnanine passage where Jesus promises the comfort of the Holy Spirit.  The woman said that she would like to know the manifestation of the Holy Spirit.  I explained to her that I thought that the gift of the Holy Spirit manifests itself in signs.  She said that she had prayed for a sign of that assurance since the death of her husband…and, had never received it.  I challenged her and said that perhaps there had been signs sent but, she was not looking for them…so, she could not/had not seen them…

She, then, mentioned that she and her husband loved to watch the birds in their backyard on their patio…among their favorites were the red birds…she said that she had not seen a red bird since the death of her husband…I said that I would join her in prayer that a sign be delivered to her…that I would pray that she would see a red bird…that was on a Tuesday…

Two days later, she called me.  That morning, while drinking her coffee, there appeared on her back porch…two red birds…a male and a female…and, she said she felt a peace that she had not felt for some time… 

Was it the power of my (no doubt awesome) prayer that brought the red birds to her porch?  No, not nearly.  Those red birds may have come and gone a number of times but, her grief became a barrier to her seeing and noticing them… 

The message of Epiphany is, “Keep watch!”…for you don’t know the day or the hour when God will appear.

An encounter with God is not a “forced” endeavor.  It is a gift.  And, it is a thing of the Spirit. 

But, one must be watching, waiting, willing to accept the encounter.  And, I can bear witness that God is here to be encountered–in the ordinary of your lives.  One must open one’s eyes and souls receive the God who is here in our midst.

As we wind our way from Epiphany through the Lenten season to Easter, let God epiph in your life. Make space in your life to have a real encounter with God. It might be here; it might be anywhere...but expect that it will happen. Get up in the morning wondering where it will come and go to sleep listening for God’s voice. Read your Bible expecting to hear God and come to the Table open to receive. God will epiph. I promise.

Premonition or Preparation

Premonition or Preparation

It was never my privilege to have known Russ Keene…and, in truth, all that I can say know is that I know a little about him.

Leo Russell Keene III, “Russ,” was killed in the south tower of the World Trade Center in New York City on the day that we have come to know as “9-11.”  As best as I can understand these are the circumstances of his death.  He was employed as a financial analyst, Keefe, Bruyette & Woods, a firm on the 89^th floor of the south tower. He called his wife, Kristen and his two-year old daughter Mayzalle from his office immediately after the first plane struck the first tower.  He told his wife that they were beginning to evacuate the building.  Shortly, thereafter, the second plane hit the second tower.  He and several co-workers were in an elevator at the time.  The elevator went into a “freefall” and got stuck right above the first floor.  Using his laptop, as a flashlight, Russ found a narrow crack in the elevators.  Try as they might, they were only able to partly open the elevator.  The opening was so small that only two petite women, Russ’ co-workers, were able to escape the elevator.  As they made it to safety, Russ told the two women, “I hope that I have not offended God in any way while I have been here on earth.  But, if I have, I hope he forgives me.”

Before the firefighters could come back to help Russ and the others, the whole building collapsed.

Wednesday morning, I sat in stony silence as I heard the roll call of those innocents whose lives were suddenly cut short by an abominable act of evil.  As Russ’ name was called, Matt Lauer of the NBC show, marked the time that the South Tower has fallen.

I, like many of you, remember all too clearly the events of “9-11.”  Throughout that day, as I sat paralyzed in front of the television, I was getting reports and updates on persons from our community who were in NYC and in proximity to the World Trade Center that day.  About mid-afternoon, I received the call from one of our church members that there was a Russ Keene who was among those missing.  It was her daughter-in-law, Jennifer Clyde’s brother.  Russ, Chris and Jennifer had grown up in our church, they were the grandchildren of Lena and Raymond Nelson.

First, the hours passed and then, the days and weeks before it was determined that Russ had never made it out of that elevator.  I cannot imagine the grief and pain and loss for the Keene family, for his wife and child and for all who knew him.

In the wake of his death, his wife Kristen found a letter.  In it, Russ told of a “feeling” that he had that he might die young and unexpectedly.  He wanted her and the family to know that he was going to be all right.  .  He needed them to know that he loved them and that his life, while cut short, had value.  He gave details about things that he knew she would need to take care of.  And, he professed a faith in God and Jesus as His Savior.

Some might say, after reading a letter like that, that Russ had a “premonition” or a “foretelling” of his own untimely death.  I do not think so.  I believe that one of the lessons that we can all learn from Russ Keene’s death is that he was prepared to die.  His life was in order, his “business” was “taken care of” and he lived each day of his life, ready...for whatever may come…whatever that was…and, probably the last words that he uttered were a simple prayer of confession to the God whom he knew and whom he served: “I hope that I have not offended God in any way while I have been here on earth.  But, if I have, I hope he forgives me.”

In the funeral liturgy for our church, there is a prayer that when we pray, we say, “Give to us now your grace, that as we shrink before the mystery of death, we may see the light of eternity.  Speak to us once more your solemn message of life and of death.  Help us to live as those who are prepared to die.  And, when our days here are accomplished, enable us to die as those who go forth to live, so that living or dying, our life may be in you, and that nothing on life or death will be able to separate us from your great love in Christ Jesus. Amen.”

Thank you Russ Keene for the vision with which you held the light of eternity.  May it be so with all of our lives.

This is that prayer that I prayed at Russ’ memorial service at Henning Memorial UMC on November 17^th…Many times, during these 10 years, I have prayed it, again and again….

Lord, we can’t cry hard enough…

Yes, we come to celebrate a life well-lived but, it is a life that was shortened by a most horrific act of evil.  We cannot/ will not forget that day.  It is forever etched in our minds…

And, for that we can’t cry hard enough…

We pray that in this hour as we shrink before the mystery of death that our tears, our hurts, our fears, our angers, our mistrust and our grief start to be healed…

Lord, we can’t cry hard enough…

            We can remember a husband, father, son, brother, family member and friend…

We can remember a life of quality and character, of integrity and charity, of sacrifice and of love…

We can remember a man of faith…

We can remember a man of promise…

We can remember a man who knew no strangers…

We can remember a family man

We can remember a man whose hope and trust was placed in your hands…

Yes, Lord, we can’t cry hard enough but, we can remember…and we can pray…

            We can pray for Kristen and Mayzalle…

We can pray for Susan and Allan….for Russ and Lynn…for Chris and Jennifer and their families…

We can pray for help…for hope…for healing…

We can pray for sacrificial love…yours and that which you place in our hearts…

We can pray that as the days go on, the tears are fewer…the memories are clearer and the prayers have brought to us Your blessed peace that passes all of our understandings….

In the name of Jesus….Amen.