Mom passed away on the Saturday after Thanksgiving last year, November 30th, so this year it felt like there were two anniversaries, last Saturday and this last Monday, the 30th.
Sunday
Those two heavy days dragged in a third, as I felt the heaviness of being in between the two anniversaries on Sunday, too.
At church we’ve been going through the book of Esther, and Sunday Mitchell preached on Esther chapter 6. It’s in the middle of the story, things have been going badly, it looks like maybe things are starting to turn around, but if you were one of the people in the middle of the story, you wouldn’t know the ending, and there’d be no guarantee that everything would continue to turn around. The honor shown to Mordecai in this chapter is small potatoes compared to the genocide looming over their heads.
Esther is one of those satisfying stories where all the loose ends get tied up and the bad guys get what’s coming to them, but even in Esther, when you’re in the middle of the story, it doesn’t seem all nice and neat, it doesn’t look like it makes any sense.
And if you’re the villain but think you’re the hero of the story, as we’re all tempted to think, the turnaround and the resolution won’t make sense, even at the end of the story! They’ll seem terribly unfair. (Or I mean, I guess they would. If you weren’t dead by then. <.<)
There’s a devotional I love, called Nailed It!: 365 Sarcastic Devotions for Angry or Worn-Out People by Anne Kennedy. The 123rd of these devotions is called “Honor,” with the category tag, “Just a Modicum of Idolatry,” and it’s on Esther 6:6, “So Haman came in, and the king said to him, ‘What should be done to the man to whom the king delights to honor?’ And Haman said to himself, ‘Whom would the king delight to honor more than me?’” She says,
“You’ve probably been so swept up in this incredible story that you’ve secretly read ahead and smacked into the carnage and woe awaiting this bitter and difficult man. ‘How can one person be so evil and selfish,’ I always think, as the pages slip by. But the answer to that question lies right here.
“Because we all lead our own lives, we tend to focus on ourselves. So, when someone asks, ‘Hmmm, I really want to honor someone, how should I do it?’ I beg you to be practical and always assume that they’re not thinking about you.
“But you know how it happens. It creeps up on you. You do some small job for someone, but you feel like it’s a big one. You wait around, hoping they’ll notice. You recount over to yourself how much time you spent and how you felt while you were doing it. You gradually and gently inflate the meaning of the task to be glorious and beautiful. Suspense builds. You wait and wait. And then, the next time you happen to see the person, they don’t mention it at all.
“That’s when you see, suddenly and catastrophically, that they didn’t think it was that big of a deal. They didn’t understand that they needed to go way out of their way to congratulate and thank you for doing whatever small thing it was that you did. And so of course bitterness creeps in. With each small, thankless job it becomes easier to ask yourself, ‘Who would anyone delight to honor more than me?’
“To avoid the terrible downfall of Haman, just don’t ever bother to ask this very bad question.”
(This is kind of what Mitchell said in his sermon too, but it’s easier to quote what I have in writing.)
And so there you have it. Note, too, that in Esther chapter 6, the one who actually does deserve to be honored and is honored here, Mordecai... originally wasn’t. When he did the thing, when he saved the king’s life. He had to wait. It was better this way in the end, but he didn’t know that. In the middle (or beginning) of the story, it didn’t make sense. He did something good, something important, where’s his reward?
And yet, if Mordecai ever thinks bitter thoughts about this, we don’t ever see it in this story, in his words or actions. As far as we can tell, he never asked anything like “this very bad question.”
So in the middle of the story, in the in between, don’t force sense that doesn’t seem to be there yet. Don’t force yourself into the hero position, don’t ask why you aren’t getting the wonderful things you deserve, or at least why the awful things you don’t deserve are happening to you.
(I mean, you can. Ask God, He can handle our questions, and it’s definitely good to be honest with Him. But you might not like the answer. :) As the Newsboys sing, “When we don’t get what we deserve / That’s a real good thing / When we get what we don’t deserve / That’s a real good thing”.) (“A real good thing.”)
I sang backup vocals in church on Sunday, so I got to spend some extra time with a beautiful song Mitchell asked us to play this week.
“When I only see in part
I will prophesy Your promise
I believe You, God
‘Cause You finish what You start
I will trust You in the process
I believe You, God”
So that was my Sunday, my day in between the two anniversaries.
Monday Afternoon
Then enter Monday. It’s St. Andrew’s Day, November 30th, the day after the first day of Advent this year. Sort of in between fall and winter, if you ask me. Towards the end of our calendar year, and the beginning of the church year.
I decided for the anniversary one physical thing I could do to mark the day and process some of my grief was to take a walk while I waited for my daughter’s preschool class, instead of working in my car like I normally do. (The next day I wrote the rough draft of this in the car. For example.)
So I did that. I dropped her off, parked, got out of the car, locked up, found a place to enter the trail that goes around the school grounds and a church nearby.
Well look at that, they have a labyrinth. Oh, someone’s using it, I’ll come back after my walk. “Is that Marcy?” Why yes, yes I am Marcy. Oh!
The “someone” was someone I had only met on Zoom so far. She was with her husband and adorable kids, and I got to meet them, and her in person for the first time, and just generally have a very nice chat.
When we were all cold and they decided to go I continued on my walk, and found a little farther on that there’s a reason the trail has so many Peace Poles along it, took a handout, and meditated on Shalom as I walked. Back around the circle to the labyrinth again, I took another handout and prayed and walked the labyrinth, then finished the larger circle and Shalom meditation.
What a load of unexpected grace on this day. Thank You, God.
The labyrinth and the handout on it reminded me that there are many twists and turns, but it’s all part of the journey, I am right where I’m supposed to be. I am loved and accepted as I am, and God’s got this. I do not, but that’s okay, I’m not meant to be the hero of the story. I release my grasp, my understanding of my story and my grief to God.
Monday Evening
And then in the evening I did something else I’ve been planning for the anniversary; I made apple crisp. My mom wasn’t really a cook. There were a few things she made, but mostly we fended for ourselves. Birthday dinners were traditionally one of three options — Arby’s, Pioneer Chicken, or Pizza Hut. She’d make cakes from boxed mixes, served in the 9x13 pan, and that was that. Thanksgiving was a potluck, by necessity regardless, as we had so many relatives over.
But she had this apple crisp recipe, and she had it memorized, because it was so simple. I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think she got it from her mom. Well, we both loved apple crisp (so good), and I’m happy to report I had her write down the recipe for me. Happy because I haven’t made it often enough to keep it memorized, I definitely would have forgotten it by now.
So go figure, my mom wasn’t a cook and I didn’t learn to cook from her, but I still have a recipe she wrote down for me, in her own handwriting, from before the dementia. Possibly from her mother before her. Such a… close-knit, cooking family sort of thing to have! Thank You, God.
I used ghee instead of regular butter, as it doesn’t bother my allergies as much, since the milk proteins are mostly gone, but otherwise kept as written. Yes, it’s rich! If the recipe came from my grandmother, well, she was born in 1920, I’m not sure what you were expecting, but hopefully not a “healthy dessert.” :D
Um, so as I was saying, with ghee instead of normal butter, I just keep ghee in my cupboard at room temperature, so I didn’t have to melt it, but then the topping comes out a little softer, less crispy. The texture is more like you just... dumped a whole bunch of brown sugar on the apples. Which you did, but I mean the butter and flour are less noticeable in this iteration. (Oh, and because I measured out 240 grams of flour instead of two cups, and technically it’s the same thing, but if I actually measured two cups and weighed it, it would probably come out to more than 240 grams, unless maybe I sifted it. Which I wouldn’t.) It’s still DELICIOUS, either way. And then after you let it cool off you stick it in the fridge and then in the morning when you get it out and eat some more there’s a little more chewy texture to the top, more like normal, and it’s still DELICIOUS that way, too. Not that I would’ve done that, or anything. <.< Mmm.
I miss you, Mom. Wish you could be here and we could talk butter and margarine and ghee and what might happen if you freeze stabilized whipped cream. And Elaine Aron’s new book, The Highly Sensitive Parent. But also, in the middle of this mess and grief, I have so much I’m grateful for, not least of which is this feeling of being seen, the unexpected gifts in the In Between. Thank You, God.
Your Turn
If you want to share your grief and gratitude with me, you can. But no pressure. Are you feeling very in between right now?
Love in Christ,
Marcy
Also, oh wow, it wasn't a whole box of brown sugar! I think one cup of each flour and brown sugar. There was a written out recipe when I made it as a kid. I'm quite certain I've eaten it at Grandma's house, too.