My Grandmother's letter

When my Grandparents died this winter I was blessed by many gifts. I wear my Grandma's wedding band every day. I have a beautiful necklace that was hers and possibly went back further than her. I have pictures and so many memories. The most precious gift I was given was my Grandpa's Bible.

My Grandparents were very active in the North Baptist Church in Ottawa. Ever since I can remember their life was about the church.

As I started looking in the Bible I found a copy of this letter written in my Grandmother's handwriting. I vaguely remember this being read at her funeral but as I sat down to really read the words I wrote I began to realize how completely different our theology is yet very much the same.

My Grandmother believed that in order to get to Heaven you had to be saved by Jesus Christ while still living on this earth. I can remember sitting on her couch as a young girl and she began telling me how worried she was for her friends that lived down the street. They were Jewish and hadn't accepted Jesus as the Lord and Savior. She was distraught that they would not spend eternity with her and couldn't figure out how to witness to them in a way that would get them to understand how serious it was. I didn't say much to my Grandma at the time, I was just a kid. But I can remember thinking "they believe in God. They just view God differently than I...maybe that is really all it is"

My theology and what I believe about grace and salvation came naturally to me. From a very young age I believed that we all get a chance to go to Heaven; Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, everyone. I never really understood how a faith that believes in grace and mercy would ever exclude anyone from eternity. As I have gotten older, my understanding of what that theology means has grown. I don't believe in original sin. I don't believe in Hell. I don't believe that just because I worship God through Christianity that there is a heaven for me and not my Jewish, Muslim or Buddhist neighbor.

I believe in salvation. I believe in the power of grace even beyond death. Jesus ministered to not only the "good" followers of God but also the least, the lost and the lonely. Jesus spoke of a way to heaven through him but also through salvation in yourself and in the way that you treat others. He spoke of two rules; to love your God and to love your neighbor as yourself. To love YOUR God. The truth is the majority of us worship one God. At least the history of the world will teach us that. We just choose to view the teaching and the word in a different way.

I was born into a Christian home. Taught by both sets of Grandparents what it means to be a Christian. How to love one another, love myself and love my God. My Grandmother, until the day she died, truly believed that without being saved by Christ in THIS life you would not go to heaven. She ends this letter by saying "We all are sinners and you want to be born again and go to heaven. Thank HIM- find a bunch of christian friends. I will be waiting for you in Heaven"

I am blessed to have different perspectives in my life. I believe my liberal United Methodist Pastor Grandfather and my Jesus saves Grandmother both had a role in my foundation in Christ. Both taught me about love, grace and mercy and both taught me about the power of living as a disciple of Christ.

Despite what we believed, we both really do believe in the same things. We believe in prayer, we believe in love and we believe in God. A higher power that is always present with us and walks with us even through the darkest moments of our lives.

I am grateful to know that as I read this letter and write this post, my Grandma is waiting for me in eternity. She is there with my dad, my grandfather and all those that have gone before me; even her friend from down the street.

God Bless this beautiful life I live and the ability to look beyond what I know and how what others believe can teach me a thing or two.

Happy Birthday Paige!

This morning I woke up and immediately knew what I was going to do. Call my sister. It's the first thing I do every year on May 17th, her birthday. It is the first thing she does every year on my birthday. Henry and I were in my bed and we called her on video phone. She answered and said "Ok, I am ready" So I sang.

"Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday, misery is in the air. People dying everywhere. Happy birthday. Happy birthday. See a birdie in the sky, dropping doo doo in your eye. Happy Birthday. Happy birthday."

Paige smiled and said "why do we sing that every year with all the horrible things that happen to us?" I laughed and told her "B/C it's what we do".

For anyone reading this that went to Maize Middle School, you all know that song. Our choir teacher sand it to everyone on their birthday. Every year since then, Paige and I have sang that to each other.

Having a sister is like having a built in best friend. Maybe not for all but for me it always has been. Paige and I have had our fair share of fights and some have been pretty epic but for the most part we have always been close.

Growing up I wanted to be just like my sister. She was kind of perfect. Really though, she was. She could sing, act, got good grades and really never got in trouble. I would follow her to her friends' houses and try to do everything she did. I am sure to her I was just an annoying little sister but to me she was my idol. She was who I wanted to be when I grew up.

Paige was in theater and choir, I was in theater and choir. Paige went to K-State. I went to K-State. Paige joined Alpha Chi. I joined Alpha Chi. Paige initially went into the non-profit world. I worked in non-profit. I am sure you get my point.

My sister and I have been through a lot. We have been through death too many times. We have been through heartache and love. We have stood next to each other during our weddings. We were there when each others babies were born and we have endured the loss of our father, together.

The bond she and I have is like none other. She really is my built in best friend. The person I would call in the middle of the night for help. The person that knows me better than anyone else.

I think God puts us on this earth for a purpose. One of my purposes is to be Paige's sister. I know that to be true. To be her rock and she to be mine. I would be lost without her and thank God every day that I have a sister in my life that understands me and loves me unconditionally.

I love you Paige. Happy Birthday.

"Wherever is your heart I call home"

My family moved to Olathe when I was 14. Just about to start high school. We moved from Wichita, from a school I had gone to through 8th grade, a beloved church and so many friends. I remember the day we moved into our home on Hunter drive. I couldn't believe how big the house was. I kept thinking my dad must have gotten a really good job and we were now rich. To be honest,I learned later that the house was very typical for the area. 4 bedrooms, two story with a finished basement. Nothing spectacular or special but it became our home.

That home is where we all graduated from high school, where we all grew up. Where we all went through the hardest years of our lives. Where my mom used to run through the kitchen and show us all how well she can jump :-) Where my dad would turn on music in the hearth room and sit singing with his eyes closed. And later where my dad passed away.

My mom had to make the impossible decision last year to leave her home. It wasn't possible for her to stay solely on her income. She moved to a lovely house with tons of space but it still doesn't quite feel the same.

I drive my parents house weekly. It is right across the street from the church I work at and every time I pass by I have a different memory that brings a smile across my face. The house was on the market for quite awhile and finally the for sale sign has disappeared. This home is soon to be the home to another family.

As I drove by today, I noticed my mom's roses were blooming. I pulled into the driveway and helped myself to a few of them. I figured if anyone asked me what I was doing I would simply say "My mom planted these, so technically they are mine" Then I would run very quickly to my car and speed away. No one saw me. No one even noticed. I am not sure the house is even occupied right now. But these flowers are sitting in front of me reminding me of my home.

How do you define home? Is it a structure? Is it the people? Is it a feeling you get in a certain place?

The home I am building now with Paul, Henry and Tannie is now what I call home. It is the place where I feel the safest. Where I know I am valued, loved and seen. My home is where I always want to go back to. It is more than the structure. It is the people in it for me.

I find peace in knowing that my home here on this earth is not the only home I will have. I know that God has prepared a place for me as Jesus tells his disciples in John 14:1-4

Home is where you find love. Where you find grace and where you find mercy. I find that with God. I find that with my church family and I have faith that my idea of home will continue beyond this life and into eternity.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God[a]; believe also in me. 2 My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. 4 You know the way to the place where I am going."

The home I grew up in was filled with all of those things and the home that I am building for my family is as well.

My mom discovered a song shortly after she made the decision to leave her home. Brandi Carlile sings of home and it not being a structure or a place but wherever your heart is. The words bring me comfort daily and peace knowing that my dad will be with us all again and that home truly is wherever your heart is.

I think it's time we found a way back home
You lose so many things you love as you grow
I missed the days when I was just a kid
My fear became my shadow, I swear it did

Wherever is your heart I call home
Wherever is your heart I call home
Though your feet may take you far from me, I know
Wherever is your heart I call home

You made me feel like I was always falling
Always falling down without a place to land
Somewhere in the distance I heard you calling
Oh it hurts so bad to let go of your hand

Even when you're high, you can get low
Even with your friends you love, you're still alone
We always find the darkest place to go
God forgive our minds, we were born to roam

Oh God forgive my mind, oh God forgive my mind
When I come home, when I come home
Oh God forgive my mind
There's a road that's long and winding, it hollers home
I'm calling home

Wherever is your heart I call home
Wherever is your heart I call home
Though your feet may take you far from me, I know
Wherever is your heart I call home

The home on hunter drive may no longer be ours but it is a part of my heart. It is a part of who I am and will always hold a piece of me in it. While I hold on to the memories of that home, I look forward to the memories that I will make in my own with the ones that I love, in my mom's new house as a family that continues to grow and thrive in the midst of loss and in the one that I will someday enter with my God and my daddy. "Where ever is your heart, I call home"

Flowers are a glimpse into eternity for me. I found it symbolic to take them as a way to remember that home is where I am and where I will be going. 

Bella Lu Bella Lu Bella Lu Bellalujah...Bella the dog

Bella Lu, my parents dog, passed away this morning. My mom called yesterday morning and said that Bella had been up all night vomiting and she was taking her to the vet. She got the meds necessary for the time being but Bella just kept getting worse. By 530pm, my mom called and said that she needed to take Bella to an emergency vet. She was on the deck and wouldn't get up.

My mom and I took her there unsure as to what was going to happen. She ended being hospitalized and around 530am my mom got a call that sweet Bella was in kidney failure and they needed to know what to do. I picked up my mom and we went and said goodbye. My mom and I were able to hold her during and it was quite beautiful. The older I get and the more experienced I become with death, the more I realize that it isn't the worst thing in the world, in fact it can be quite beautiful when the time is right and love is surrounding the one passing. As she took what was probably her last breath I told her to go find her daddy and forever run at the dog park.

My parents got Bella right before I came home from the summer between my junior and senior year of college. I kind of hated the dog at first. She barked a lot, got a lot of attention from my parents and was just kind of needy. As the summer went on, my love for her grew. I had a hard summer. Many friendships I thought were strong began to fall apart, I was betrayed and stabbed in the back by one of my closest friends and I experienced something really painful while visiting friends back in Manhattan. Bella became a support to me. She would cuddle with me on the couch, sleep on my bed with me and let me talk to her about how hurt I was, how I didn't know if I wanted to go back to school and how I just wanted to find my place in the world. I really grew to become attached to that dog.

Bella has been in our family for the past 11 years. She was with my parents through rough patches with my brother. She was with my dad when he got laid off from his job and kept him company at the dog park many a nights. They became quite the dog park people, my dad knew everyone by name and really formed relationships with them. Bella was there when my dad got diagnosed with cancer. The night my dad died, my mom sent Bella back home with her parents. Later, when we talked about the exact timing of my dad's death we learned that Bella began howling at the window at that exact time. It was as though my dad's spirit passed by her telling her he would see her again.

It is interesting to me how much an animal becomes a part of your family. I have my own two dogs, Charlie and McGhee. And while most days they drive me absolutely crazy, I can't imagine my life without them. Henry calls them his best friends. Tannie and McGehee stare at each other- nose to nose and they both cuddle with us while we sleep. They are our family and a part of who we are.

Life will certainly be different without Bella Lu but I know with every ounce of my heart she is running through the dog park with my dad, rolling in the grass and eating as many treats as possible.

Until we meet again sweet girl.

The word for today is "JOYFUL"

During this Lenten season I have been participating in a Lenten photo challenge. Each day is assigned a word and I find a photo that describes what that word means to me and share it on Facebook. Today's word is "JOYFUL".

It is an interesting word for today. Well for me it is. Today is my dad's birthday. His 60th birthday and while I often find myself mourning and overwhelmed with anxiety on days like today, today I am choosing to be joyful.

The Lenten season for me is about transformation and renewal. About being about to find a way to move past the pain and hurt from the year and years past and toward a future that has promise of light, hope and love. It is much easier said than done but for some reason this year has felt very different to me.

I constantly feel God's presence in my life. I see God when I am nursing my sweet baby girl in the middle of the night. I see God when Henry is driving me absolutely crazy but just being himself, the way he was created. I see God in the faces and hospital rooms of the people I visit. I see God in the mourning, in the grieving, in the broken.

If you are just able to open your heart and your mind to it you will be amazed at how God works in your life. Bringing you joy, comfort, grace and love.

The highlight of my day today was seeing Henry during his swimming lessons. Henry is not the best at listening but loves to swim and tries really hard. Last week they were told to bring goggles. Today we swam with confidence and his teacher had all the other kids watch him so they could see how to do certain things. I was extremely proud of him. He got out of the pool and said "Mom, did you see? I paid attention!" I said "I am so proud of you Henry. You are such a good swimmer." His response (very loudly while throwing his arms in the air) "WOOHOO".

Being joyful is possible, even when you expect to be sad. Seeing God in the hurt and pain is possible even when you can't imagine that God is present. Being open to the transformation that God can bring to your life is also possible, even if you don't understand why you would need it.

I challenge everyone to find ways they see joy in their day, joy in the darkness and joy in the beauty. It is all around just waiting to be seen.

My Rock

As I am sure you are all aware, the winter months are not my favorite. Death happens in the winter months for my family. I blogged in January that I was going to embrace winter and not let the fear of death hold me back. Within a month I lost two grandparents. I still have 2 living grandparents and know how lucky I am to have had all four for 31 years. Yet, it is still hard. February is when my dad died, December is when my cousin Skylar died and now January and February will be when I lost my grandparents.

Grief comes at you in moments that you least expect it. My Aunt Becky calls them "grief bursts" and that they are. You can be in the middle of the grocery store and just start crying, in a meeting and realize all of a sudden that the only person you want to talk to isn't there or it can be while rocking your sweet baby to sleep realizing that she will never know her Nana.

On Sunday, our Minister, Nanette, preached on Exodus 33

"See there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by, then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back but my face will not be seen"

I could go in to great detail about what is happening here but essentially God is telling Moses that he is his rock and he will place him in the cleft of the rock to protect him and his people.

Nanette's sermon was beautiful and she talked about our faith being the rock in which we build our foundation. She also preached on who your rock is. Who in your life is the person that comes in through the back door, the one that picks you up when you are grieving and knows exactly what to do to help you without even being asked. Her sermon was beautiful and I sat there thinking about Paul, my mom, my sister and some of my friends. The people that know me, that get me, that literally come in and do what I need done when I feeling the most anxious, when I am grieving and when I just need a person.

That night I dreamt about my dad. Dreams about my dad tend to be sweet and comforting. However, this one wasn't. It was the day of his death but it wasn't how it happened. It was different. The images of this dream have been running through my mind since I woke up yesterday morning. In this dream we begged him not to die. We pleaded with him. He kept asking for us to let him go and we would say no. We would tell him that we needed him and that he was the best person in our lives and that he couldn't leave us. But he kept asking for us to let him go. He said at one point that his parents were there waiting for him and he just needed to die.

I woke up distraught and anxious. The day before, I had listened to Nanette preach about who your rock is, who helps you when you need it the most. I could identify those people in my life yet there is one person that I can no longer put in that category. My dad.

My dad was the rock of our family. He was the one that we all went to for advice. The first person I would call when something big happened. The one I would just call to chat with. I long for those times and hold onto the memories so dearly.

I don't believe that my dream was saying to "let him go". I will never let him go but I think it was telling me that my anxiety, my grief and loss are a part of who I am. However, I can't let them define me. The rock of my faith is what I need to focus on. The people that support me no matter what are who I need to focus on. I have to let go of the fact that I will never see him again unless in my dreams or one day when I join him in eternity.

Many days my anxiety gets the best of me, especially lately. Yet, I believe that God is my rock. That my faith continues to get me through this and that there are people in my life that I can rely on when I just need someone to tell me it is going to be ok.

It is important on this journey of life to have those people and to be able to let go of those ones that are no longer physically present and the people that don't offer you the support that you need. Letting go of my father doesn't mean I won't talk to him everyday, or ask him for help or advice. It just means that I can recognize he is no longer physically here and that I am okay and I have people in my life that will support me and hold me up.

At the end of the dream, I held my father and said "you were the best father in the world. I will always love you" He smiled at me and then I woke up.

My anxiety and grief often get the best of me and probably always will but I know God is my rock and I know I have the people I need to get through it.

My Grandma's Kitchen Table

I have so many memories around my Grandma's kitchen table. Thanksgiving dinners, fried chicken for days, eating Dairy Queen with Grandpa, playing games with my cousins, watching as our parents talked for hours....

A kitchen table is where the heart of the family is and ours was no exception. My parents told me stories of late nights sitting up playing cards around that table and laughing until it hurt. I can remember as a child sitting there while my Grandma was in the kitchen (I swear she lived in there) watching her cook and talking with her.

While some families may say "everything happens around the kitchen table" that was very true in the Leitnaker family. This particular table was my Grandpa's parents and now sits in my sister's house. It's nothing fancy but it holds so many memories. I can only imagine the laughter, tears and memories that have been made around it.

We lost my Grandma today. 4 weeks to the day that my Grandpa passed away. Like many women, my Grandma was the heart of the family. She was what kept us all together for so many years. She taught all of us girls how to cook, sew and be a mom. She taught her sons and grandsons how to treat their wives and daughters. And most importantly she taught us about the love of family.

I have written before about the how strong of a bond our family has and I can honestly say that I give all that credit to her. Thanksgiving, Christmas, summer breaks were all spent at her house. 16 of us would cram into their tiny 3 bedroom home. Somehow we made it work and I wouldn't trade those memories for anything.

But the kitchen is where I most remember my Grandma. No matter how hard they struggled she always put dinner on the table. Dinner was the heart of the family and we all knew that. No one could cook like my Grandma. No one could make fried chicken like her.... well except MAYBE her sister, Betsy... but I will let them figure that one out!

Grandma would spend endless hours in the kitchen and she always sampled as she ate. All good cooks know that you don't follow a recipe, you learn from tasting. That is something I learned from her. I can remember her making sure all of us were fed before she ever got a plate and when she did finally eat it was barely anything. She would always say she ate it all while she cooked!

My Grandma was diagnosed with Alzheimer's over 10 years ago. I can remember the devastation that came when her sons realized it was time for them to leave their house. My Grandma was the caretaker, she made the meals and took care of Grandpa. And since she wasn't able to anymore it was time for them to move.

That weekend was so hard. My Grandpa sat at the kitchen table most of the day, angry that he had to lose his home. But I honestly believe it was more than that. He had lost his wife to a horrible disease. No longer would they sit around that table and have their family come over. No longer would they enjoy a bowl of ice cream after EACH meal- at least not ice cream that he picked from his deep freeze.

Losing a loved one to Alzheimer's is one of the hardest things I have ever seen. Yet, somehow through it all Grandma remained Grandma. She survived longer than most do and I truly believe that it was so she could continue to be the care taker of my Grandpa and her children. Even if she couldn't do that physically and mentally she was still there as someone that loved them and cared for them.

My Grandpa passed 4 weeks ago and since then Grandma started to decline. I believe that my dad and Grandpa called her home today. She was finally able to let go so that she could take care of them eternally.

My Grandma was an amazing woman. Last night I was able to go see her with my mom and sister. We prayed, sang Amazing Grace and laughed. We knew that she was there. We knew that she was with us. I leaned over to her at one point and said "Just go, just go. Your baby and Grandpa are waiting for you. We are OK."

I believe her journey was beautiful and I believe it was peaceful. And I believe with my whole heart that she is now with my dad, my Grandpa and her sister sitting around the kitchen table eating fried chicken and laughing.

"Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her. Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all" -Proverbs 31: 28-29

Bless you, Grandma. May you always know how much you taught me about love, life and the importance of a kitchen table.