Consolation
Stories
Object:
Contents
Sharing Visions, "Consolation" by Lori Hetzel
Good Stories, "A Dog Came for Christmas" by John E. Sumwalt
John's Scrap Pile, "Fleshing Out the Word"
Sharing Visions
Consolation
by Lori Hetzel
With weeping they shall come,
and with consolations, I will lead them back ...
Jeremiah 31:9a
My mother died on January 20, 2001. I am her only daughter, and we were very close. She had lung cancer. A tumor broke one of her ribs, causing much suffering. She came home from the hospital for the last time on January 12th, which was a Saturday. On Monday she told me she had a dream in which she saw Jesus surrounded by a white light. He talked to her, but she did not talk to him. I asked her if she was afraid, and she said no. I think she wasn't ready to die, or that Jesus was preparing her. I thanked him for that vision. At that time she was fully alert. One day later she was unconscious, but I knew she could still hear all of us who were with her. Two days before she died she was trying to talk. I brushed her hair, bathed her, and put on her makeup. I gave her a kiss and told her I would be right back. When I turned to leave, she said, "I love you." Expecting her eyes to be open, I turned to her, only to find her eyes closed. That was a very precious gift from her. Later that day, I heard her calling out to her deceased brother Rodwell. I believe perhaps he was calling to her. Saturday we gathered by her bedside; I sang "Amazing Grace," and when I finished, she passed away -- peacefully.
I cried every day for two months after that, in the morning and at noon on my way home for lunch. Every night I would sob myself to sleep. I would say out loud how much I missed her. I ached. I prayed to God every night, "Lord, I know she is with you. I know she is at peace. I only pray that I could feel her peace; then I know I could get better. Amen."
On Saturday, March 31st, sometime in the early morning hours, I was in bed in our bedroom, which is upstairs in the attic. There is only one window, which faces west. We use blinds for our window treatment, and they are closed at night. We get very little light up there. The sun rises in the east and would have come up behind the garage. Yet, as something very powerful completely woke me, I saw a radiant yellow light (our walls and ceiling are painted off-white). The light was everywhere. I was captivated by its beautiful color, and then I realized my mother's presence was in the room. It was so strong. She was everywhere in the light. I was laying on my back with my arms directly at my sides. I lay there with my eyes moving, looking side to side, up and down. I saw my husband sleeping next to me. I wanted to wake him, but couldn't move. Maybe I was afraid this extraordinary moment would go away. I was overwhelmed by the light and by her being in my room. All of a sudden, I felt an inner peace flow through me. It started at my feet and moved slowly throughout my body. It was such a deep, gratifying peace that words are inadequate to describe it. While this was happening, my eyes were gazing through the beautiful, glowing light. When it left my body, I remember lying there with a contented smile on my face, knowing that my mother was truly at peace. In my mind, I thanked God for this wonderful gift. And that is exactly what it was. Then I rolled over on my left side and went back to sleep.
I have not cried one teardrop since I had this fantastic experience. Yes, I miss my Mamma, but in a different way now. I felt her peace. I met with my pastor and told him of my experience. I said, "If this is what death feels like, then no one should ever be afraid." My pastor said that I had felt the spirit of God move through me, and I must say it was. I was once skeptical when people told about events like this. Now, I rejoice. I believe God wants us to tell others who are grieving that the spirit of God is alive and has not abandoned us. My faith in the Lord has tripled.
Lori Hetzel is a dental assistant and a member of Christ United Methodist Church in Greenfield, Wisconsin.
From Vision Stories: True Accounts Of Visions, Angels, And Healing Miracles, compiled and edited by John E. Sumwalt (CSS Publishing Company, 2002), pages 40-41.
Good Stories
A Dog Came for Christmas
by John E. Sumwalt
And the word became flesh and dwelt among us,
full of grace and truth; and we have beheld his glory ...
John 1:14
There was once an old man who did not have a dog. He did not have a wife (she had died the Christmas before). He did not have any family or friends to speak of; he did not have anything to fill the emptiness that sat like a dead weight on his heart.
Neighbors and people from the church had come by in the weeks and months after Margaret had died, but he had turned them away with polite lies, saying he was doing all right, that he was keeping busy, and, no, there was nothing they could do for him.
Each time he closed the door on one of these offers of kindness, the old man felt older and smaller. He had barely enough energy to pull himself up from the table after his meals and walk outside to the front stoop, where he sat for hours on end, day after day.
It was late in the afternoon of one of these long vigils, just before dusk, in the twilight moment when the last stray rays of sunlight fade into darkness, that the old man first became aware of the dog's presence. He appeared as a white blur from behind a bush at the end of the street.
As the dog drew near, he sank to the ground, creeping carefully on his belly as if stalking some kind of prey. He stopped about three feet from the old man's right foot.
The old man tried to shoo him away. "Get out of here! Go home! It's suppertime; you're not going to get anything here."
It was the same every day after that. The dog appeared late in the afternoon, and each time the old man tried to chase him away. Every day the dog came closer and closer, till one day, without a word, the old man let him stay. The two sat together for over an hour. Then, suddenly, the dog made his move, slowly sliding forward, inch by inch, until his nose rested on the old man's foot.
The next morning, the old man rose early and hurried through breakfast. He quickly washed the dishes and straightened the house. Then he got into the car and drove to Wal-Mart. The store was crowded with last minute Christmas Eve shoppers. The old man grabbed a cart and filled it with bags of rawhide bones, a couple of soft rubber balls, the biggest bag of dog food he could find, several dog toys that jingled and jangled, and one of those huge, comfy doggie pillow beds. He threw it all in the car, stopped on the way home to pick up the Christmas tree, took everything into the house, decorated the tree, wrapped the presents, and still managed to be sitting in his chair on the stoop when the dog appeared at the usual time.
The dog came straight to the old man and lay down at his feet. The old man leaned over and patted him on the head. "How are you, fella? It's good to see you." The dog rolled over on his back, with all four feet in the air, and the old man reached down and scratched his belly.
After a while, the old man got up and walked to the door. Holding it open wide, he looked at the dog and said, "Well, what are you waiting for? Get in here. It's time for our supper."
John's Scrap Pile
Fleshing Out the Word
This is how God comes to us - in the flesh - in a neighbor, in a friend, in a small child, in a baby ... in a dog. God loves us so much that God will find a way. The word becomes flesh again, and again, and again....
An argument among early Christians over Jesus' human and divine qualities led to a heresy called docetism, which held that Jesus' body only appeared to be real, and therefore he only seemed to suffer and die on the cross. But it did not end in the early centuries. M. Scott Peck suggests in his book The Different Drum that a vast majority of churchgoing American Christians are also heretics, because they practice what he calls "pseudodocetism." Peck explains that most American Christians have enough education through catechism or confirmation to recognize that there is a contradiction in the claim that Jesus is both human and divine. To compensate for the contradiction, they place much more value upon his divinity than his humanity, putting him on God's level, 99.5% divine, and leaving us on an earthly level, 99.5% human. The gulf created by this distancing relieves ordinary human beings from responsibility for Christ-like actions (pg. 297). In Peck's words:
It is through the large scale ignoring of Jesus' very real humanity that we are allowed to worship him in name without the obligation of following in his footsteps. Pseudodocetism lets us off the hook. (pgs. 297-298)
James Lynwood Walker writes in his book Body and Soul that we need to understand the ancient Israelitic word "nephesh" (soul; being) to understand the concept of the human being as a soul in totality rather than as a body supplied with a soul. These ancient people saw a relationship of complete unity between body and soul (nephesh) ... a unity of all aspects of human nature into one whole. Our own culture has been influenced by the Greek-Hellenistic dualism which overwhelmed Judeo-Christian religion in its early centuries. This dualism separates the realm of matter, considered unreal and/or evil, from a vaguely defined "spiritual" realm. It allows us to believe that no matter how terrible life may appear, there is a place "out there" where everything will be all right (pgs. 36, 44). Walker sums up:
This dualism, which overwhelmed the Judeo-Christian religion in the early centuries of its history, has been and is a tenacious influence in this culture. Based on its influence, the Judeo-Christian religion inaugurated a split between body and soul which resulted in denigration, if not outright condemnation, of the body. (pg. 44)
Grace comes to us in the flesh. Forgiveness, mercy, pardon, love, and healing are administered through living beings; in a voice, in an embrace, in a kiss, in a touch, in the flesh. Someone forgives you and gives you another chance when you don't deserve it; someone picks you up when you fall; someone touches you where you hurt, and you are healed. "Mommy kiss it and make it better," we say, "the best medicine in the world." The word becomes flesh again and again and again....
Sharing Visions, "Consolation" by Lori Hetzel
Good Stories, "A Dog Came for Christmas" by John E. Sumwalt
John's Scrap Pile, "Fleshing Out the Word"
Sharing Visions
Consolation
by Lori Hetzel
With weeping they shall come,
and with consolations, I will lead them back ...
Jeremiah 31:9a
My mother died on January 20, 2001. I am her only daughter, and we were very close. She had lung cancer. A tumor broke one of her ribs, causing much suffering. She came home from the hospital for the last time on January 12th, which was a Saturday. On Monday she told me she had a dream in which she saw Jesus surrounded by a white light. He talked to her, but she did not talk to him. I asked her if she was afraid, and she said no. I think she wasn't ready to die, or that Jesus was preparing her. I thanked him for that vision. At that time she was fully alert. One day later she was unconscious, but I knew she could still hear all of us who were with her. Two days before she died she was trying to talk. I brushed her hair, bathed her, and put on her makeup. I gave her a kiss and told her I would be right back. When I turned to leave, she said, "I love you." Expecting her eyes to be open, I turned to her, only to find her eyes closed. That was a very precious gift from her. Later that day, I heard her calling out to her deceased brother Rodwell. I believe perhaps he was calling to her. Saturday we gathered by her bedside; I sang "Amazing Grace," and when I finished, she passed away -- peacefully.
I cried every day for two months after that, in the morning and at noon on my way home for lunch. Every night I would sob myself to sleep. I would say out loud how much I missed her. I ached. I prayed to God every night, "Lord, I know she is with you. I know she is at peace. I only pray that I could feel her peace; then I know I could get better. Amen."
On Saturday, March 31st, sometime in the early morning hours, I was in bed in our bedroom, which is upstairs in the attic. There is only one window, which faces west. We use blinds for our window treatment, and they are closed at night. We get very little light up there. The sun rises in the east and would have come up behind the garage. Yet, as something very powerful completely woke me, I saw a radiant yellow light (our walls and ceiling are painted off-white). The light was everywhere. I was captivated by its beautiful color, and then I realized my mother's presence was in the room. It was so strong. She was everywhere in the light. I was laying on my back with my arms directly at my sides. I lay there with my eyes moving, looking side to side, up and down. I saw my husband sleeping next to me. I wanted to wake him, but couldn't move. Maybe I was afraid this extraordinary moment would go away. I was overwhelmed by the light and by her being in my room. All of a sudden, I felt an inner peace flow through me. It started at my feet and moved slowly throughout my body. It was such a deep, gratifying peace that words are inadequate to describe it. While this was happening, my eyes were gazing through the beautiful, glowing light. When it left my body, I remember lying there with a contented smile on my face, knowing that my mother was truly at peace. In my mind, I thanked God for this wonderful gift. And that is exactly what it was. Then I rolled over on my left side and went back to sleep.
I have not cried one teardrop since I had this fantastic experience. Yes, I miss my Mamma, but in a different way now. I felt her peace. I met with my pastor and told him of my experience. I said, "If this is what death feels like, then no one should ever be afraid." My pastor said that I had felt the spirit of God move through me, and I must say it was. I was once skeptical when people told about events like this. Now, I rejoice. I believe God wants us to tell others who are grieving that the spirit of God is alive and has not abandoned us. My faith in the Lord has tripled.
Lori Hetzel is a dental assistant and a member of Christ United Methodist Church in Greenfield, Wisconsin.
From Vision Stories: True Accounts Of Visions, Angels, And Healing Miracles, compiled and edited by John E. Sumwalt (CSS Publishing Company, 2002), pages 40-41.
Good Stories
A Dog Came for Christmas
by John E. Sumwalt
And the word became flesh and dwelt among us,
full of grace and truth; and we have beheld his glory ...
John 1:14
There was once an old man who did not have a dog. He did not have a wife (she had died the Christmas before). He did not have any family or friends to speak of; he did not have anything to fill the emptiness that sat like a dead weight on his heart.
Neighbors and people from the church had come by in the weeks and months after Margaret had died, but he had turned them away with polite lies, saying he was doing all right, that he was keeping busy, and, no, there was nothing they could do for him.
Each time he closed the door on one of these offers of kindness, the old man felt older and smaller. He had barely enough energy to pull himself up from the table after his meals and walk outside to the front stoop, where he sat for hours on end, day after day.
It was late in the afternoon of one of these long vigils, just before dusk, in the twilight moment when the last stray rays of sunlight fade into darkness, that the old man first became aware of the dog's presence. He appeared as a white blur from behind a bush at the end of the street.
As the dog drew near, he sank to the ground, creeping carefully on his belly as if stalking some kind of prey. He stopped about three feet from the old man's right foot.
The old man tried to shoo him away. "Get out of here! Go home! It's suppertime; you're not going to get anything here."
It was the same every day after that. The dog appeared late in the afternoon, and each time the old man tried to chase him away. Every day the dog came closer and closer, till one day, without a word, the old man let him stay. The two sat together for over an hour. Then, suddenly, the dog made his move, slowly sliding forward, inch by inch, until his nose rested on the old man's foot.
The next morning, the old man rose early and hurried through breakfast. He quickly washed the dishes and straightened the house. Then he got into the car and drove to Wal-Mart. The store was crowded with last minute Christmas Eve shoppers. The old man grabbed a cart and filled it with bags of rawhide bones, a couple of soft rubber balls, the biggest bag of dog food he could find, several dog toys that jingled and jangled, and one of those huge, comfy doggie pillow beds. He threw it all in the car, stopped on the way home to pick up the Christmas tree, took everything into the house, decorated the tree, wrapped the presents, and still managed to be sitting in his chair on the stoop when the dog appeared at the usual time.
The dog came straight to the old man and lay down at his feet. The old man leaned over and patted him on the head. "How are you, fella? It's good to see you." The dog rolled over on his back, with all four feet in the air, and the old man reached down and scratched his belly.
After a while, the old man got up and walked to the door. Holding it open wide, he looked at the dog and said, "Well, what are you waiting for? Get in here. It's time for our supper."
John's Scrap Pile
Fleshing Out the Word
This is how God comes to us - in the flesh - in a neighbor, in a friend, in a small child, in a baby ... in a dog. God loves us so much that God will find a way. The word becomes flesh again, and again, and again....
An argument among early Christians over Jesus' human and divine qualities led to a heresy called docetism, which held that Jesus' body only appeared to be real, and therefore he only seemed to suffer and die on the cross. But it did not end in the early centuries. M. Scott Peck suggests in his book The Different Drum that a vast majority of churchgoing American Christians are also heretics, because they practice what he calls "pseudodocetism." Peck explains that most American Christians have enough education through catechism or confirmation to recognize that there is a contradiction in the claim that Jesus is both human and divine. To compensate for the contradiction, they place much more value upon his divinity than his humanity, putting him on God's level, 99.5% divine, and leaving us on an earthly level, 99.5% human. The gulf created by this distancing relieves ordinary human beings from responsibility for Christ-like actions (pg. 297). In Peck's words:
It is through the large scale ignoring of Jesus' very real humanity that we are allowed to worship him in name without the obligation of following in his footsteps. Pseudodocetism lets us off the hook. (pgs. 297-298)
James Lynwood Walker writes in his book Body and Soul that we need to understand the ancient Israelitic word "nephesh" (soul; being) to understand the concept of the human being as a soul in totality rather than as a body supplied with a soul. These ancient people saw a relationship of complete unity between body and soul (nephesh) ... a unity of all aspects of human nature into one whole. Our own culture has been influenced by the Greek-Hellenistic dualism which overwhelmed Judeo-Christian religion in its early centuries. This dualism separates the realm of matter, considered unreal and/or evil, from a vaguely defined "spiritual" realm. It allows us to believe that no matter how terrible life may appear, there is a place "out there" where everything will be all right (pgs. 36, 44). Walker sums up:
This dualism, which overwhelmed the Judeo-Christian religion in the early centuries of its history, has been and is a tenacious influence in this culture. Based on its influence, the Judeo-Christian religion inaugurated a split between body and soul which resulted in denigration, if not outright condemnation, of the body. (pg. 44)
Grace comes to us in the flesh. Forgiveness, mercy, pardon, love, and healing are administered through living beings; in a voice, in an embrace, in a kiss, in a touch, in the flesh. Someone forgives you and gives you another chance when you don't deserve it; someone picks you up when you fall; someone touches you where you hurt, and you are healed. "Mommy kiss it and make it better," we say, "the best medicine in the world." The word becomes flesh again and again and again....
