heaven

One moment someone’s there.

Just behind this glass. Mopping in our new restaurant. I yelled, “Sue, you’re awesome!” And was ignored. Intentionally. Then louder, “SUE, you’re AWESOME!” This time a wave-off over the shoulder.

The next moment they’re gone.

A phone call. Terrible news. Heartache of the worst sort. Sue died in her sleep yesterday morning between the time her husband Ralph got up and did some yard work and the time he returned to check on her, thinking she’d slept in unusually long.

Just like that, she was gone.

My last words to Sue will stay with me forever. Because she was just that: awesome.

Of all the people I’ve had the privilege to know, she was one of the most selfless.

I learned that after she cleaned the restaurant Tuesday night, she insisted on going to clean New Life.

At 11:30pm.

Every dirty coffee mug. Every trash bin. Every dust bunny. No task was too insignificant. Because serving people and making atmosphere’s enjoyable was what she lived for. She’d never take a dime. Nor would she permit photographs. In every picture I have of her, she’s looking away.

This one below Jenny captured from a distance last year during a memorial walk for Michelle, her would-be daughter-in-law.

While tragedy has gripped the Marolf/Garland family far too frequent for my tastes, rarely have I admired such a loving and selfless tribe. She embodied the servant-nature of Jesus. That is more than I could ever hope to modle.

We miss you, Sue. ch:

The Last This Side of Heaven

This morning, I twittered, “Sing today as if it’s your last opportunity this side of heaven.” Of course, it was in the context of Sunday morning church worship services. But really, it applies to so many other valuable things in life, especially those pertaining to our outward displays of affection toward God…and toward other people.

Very often we relegate our emotional responses toward relationships to controlled, cerebral thought patterns, shared with few, if anyone at all. We tend to internalize feelings, making excuses for why they should not or can not be communicated outwardly, much less overtly. Insecurity. Shame. Fear. Or simply ignorance. Yet the practice of making excuses has many faults, the least of which is that it most often comes from a sense of false humility, which, oddly enough, is an offensive form of pride. Granted, there are plenty of cases where one might cite that they were never instructed to be verbose in emotions, or that it was not the standard of the day. My father’s generation, for example, rarely–if ever–heard, “I love you, son,” from their World War II era parents. While these excuses certainly have merit, for the Christian they must be reconciled with the fact that Jesus was extremely verbose in his lifestyle of love. And in His ultimate display if the emotion: death in exchange for life. Thus why it’s referred to as The Passion.

This side of heaven, you may not have another chance to tell your spouse how much you really love them. You may not have another night to tuck in your children and tell them they are the greatest. You may not have a chance to anonymously put some cash in someone’s pocket, hug a friend just because you can, or–like today–go up to a total stranger in McDonald’s and encourage them about how great a dad they are. Because today might be your last time this side of heaven to do anything. So what will you do? ch:

Vanished

The Last This Side of Heaven

Photos by Jennifer Hopper | www.jenniferhopperphoto.com