Look for Me in Rainbows

Sunset, December 14, 2021

I was one very small cog in a big wheel last week as a community said goodbye to one of its own. Serena was only 21 years old. But she lived a big life in a short time. 

Serena and her family have ties to many parts of our rural community. Her college days and extensive involvement extended her reach and her impact far beyond her home. 

Two volunteers from the Christian Church organized the dinner after the funeral. However, one of them said that almost every church in Stafford had contributed a dish or two for the dinner or had helped set up for the meal. I arranged for the 11 salads needed for the meal from our church, which blossomed into far more. Two people brought additional salads and most made at least double recipes of the dishes they contributed. The Rec Center opened its doors for the dinner to be served in its gym.

It wasn't hard to find people to say, "Yes!" when asked to contribute. We are blessed to live in a community that puts hands and feet to work as we love our neighbors as Christ commanded us. We served around 110 people. We could have served more, had there been more tables and chairs.

Over and over, Serena was described as a "bright light." Her go-get-it attitude and her ready smile were outward examples of that light. That description made me think of a favorite Bible verse, Matthew 5:15-16:

¹⁵ Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. ¹⁶ In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.

 

Randy and I got home from helping to clean up and deliver salad bowls to their rightful owners as the sun was beginning to set. After we carried things in the house, we went back out to look at the evening sky yet again. 

As we watched that spectacular sunset on the evening after Serena’s funeral, I thought  again of the poem the family had chosen for Serena's service bulletin:

  Look for Me in Rainbows

Music and lyrics: Conn Bernard (1990). Vicki Brown 

Time for me to go now, I won't say goodbye;
Look for me in rainbows, way up in the sky.
In the morning sunrise when all the world is new,
Just look for me and love me, as you know I loved you.
Time for me to leave you, I won't say goodbye;
Look for me in rainbows, high up in the sky.
In the evening sunset, when all the world is through,
Just look for me and love me, and I'll be close to you.

It won't be forever, the day will come and then
My loving arms will hold you, when we meet again.
Time for us to part now, we won't say goodbye;
Look for me in rainbows, shining in the sky.
Every waking moment, and all your whole life through
Just look for me and love me, as you know I loved you.
Just wish me to be near you,
And I'll be there with you.

It's the perfect imagery for a girl from the heartland of Kansas. And it's a reminder for the rest of us, too, especially during a week packed with extras and pressure for the "perfect" holiday celebration. What's really important in the long run? Is it another kind of cookies ... or slowing down and enjoying the time with family and friends?

The answer is likely in the rainbows and the sunrises and the sunsets.

More Than Meatloaf

 

What do 15 pounds of hamburger, a dozen eggs, oodles of oatmeal, some ketchup, evaporated milk and assorted spices make?

It makes a whole lot more than meatloaf. It - along with a table full of homemade sides - is a love gift for grieving families from our church family.

On Saturday, I organized my second funeral dinner for the church. I've helped with dozens of these dinners, but I'm not typically the organizer for them. I'm certainly not a stranger to organizing meals or special events from bridal showers to youth dinners to 4-H fundraisers to PTO soup suppers to Core meals ... the list goes on and on.

But our new funeral dinner leader was out of town for the Labor Day weekend. And I just couldn't let the Stafford Methodist Meatloaf tradition down for this particular lady.

We were celebrating the life of Wanda. A few years ago, she was bound and determined that she'd make it to the 200 funeral meal mark, each detailed in the 3-ring notebook she carefully propped onto the huge stainless steel island in the church kitchen as she prepared funeral meals. Once she reached that mark, she evidently thought it was time to turn over the notebook to someone else. 

 

At about the same time, she handed me a business-sized envelope after church one day. She had my name as the addressee and her name in the return. It included her "formula" for Methodist Meatloaf, as well as the number of salads, potatoes, cakes and French bread loaves it took to serve anywhere from 5 to 130 people. I stuck it in the back of my calendar, knowing I had that resource at my fingertips if ever I needed it.

 

I must admit: I didn't follow her meatloaf recipe to a "T," but I sure used it as a guide to convert my own recipe. And I did use her calculations for how much of the "extras" to ask for from other congregation members.
 

I joked on Saturday that I may get met at the Pearly Gates some day by disgruntled Stafford UMC ladies already in Glory. I used disposable tableware to speed clean-up on a holiday weekend. (And, truth be told, I'll do it again if I'm called to duty for the job. It made the clean up so much faster!)

 

Are there sunsets in heaven? I don't know, but I can imagine the beauty. (Sunset 9-8-21)

 

And Wanda may greet me to give me the "what for" about the ketchup bottle on the serving table. Wanda would definitely not approve. When she was in charge of the meal, family members would sometimes come into the kitchen and ask if we had ketchup. She'd say, "There's ketchup in the meatloaf." (However, we didn't place the ketchup on the table for her husband's funeral dinner. And one of her own family members asked for it. I just was saving a step on Saturday, or so I'd like to believe.)

The funeral service was in the church sanctuary, while we prepared the meal in the kitchen downstairs. I imagine that the smell of baking meatloaf was as much a benediction for Wanda's family as the closing prayer.

 

Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance

rising up to God.

2 Corinthians 2:15

 

I've always loved this quote attributed to Teresa of Avila:

 

 Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which He looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which He blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are His body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours. 

Teresa of Avila 

One of my favorite Bible passages -- I Corinthians 12 -- talks about all the parts of the body being important and working together. 

 

It takes "the body" to accomplish a funeral dinner .. all those people who say "yes" when asked to bring a salad or cake, help set up or clean up or accomplish the myriad of other behind-the-scenes tasks needed.

 

Yes, it takes all of us, using our God-given gifts to do the work of the church or the community - whether that's a funeral dinner, school music, sports, 4-H, Scouts, Chamber of Commerce, the county fair, food bank ... the examples are endless. And so are the opportunities.

Who'll Make the Coffee ... and the Cookies?

"Who'll make the coffee?"

It sounds like such a small thing. But for those of us who arrive at church early to run off Sunday School materials or who enjoy partaking in a cup of joe and some conversation before the worship service begins, it becomes a little detail that makes a big difference.

One of the guys who "made the coffee" at our church died last week. Yes, Marion made the coffee for a lot of years - before Sunday School, at the bazaar, for funeral dinners, for the men's pancake feed and more.

But it wasn't just that. He quietly did a whole lot more. He and his wife stirred up "Methodist meatloaf" for some 100 funeral dinners. His family had been putting together Christmas candy bags for the church's children since 1929. 

When another member of the church was no longer able to organize the apple pie days and apple butter making for the fall bazaar, he and his wife were the driving forces behind those efforts. He was Sunday School clerk, keeping track of attendance for 60 years. I'm sure there was more that I - and others - didn't know he did. But we will likely discover those things in the coming days.

He still was doing some of those things a month ago. Once his cancer was discovered, his remaining time here on earth went quickly.

Randy and I visited the family and took some food to their home before the funeral. I took BBQ beef for a reason. That was my mother-in-law Marie's "go-to" offering to take to grieving families. And she was one of those quietly-get-things-done people at church, too. Even though she's been gone 23 years, I felt that connection of church and family ties as I shredded the beef to take to town.

I also took some cookies. I'd been wanting to try a recipe I'd seen online for Cafe Coffee Cookies. And when I thought of Marion and all the pots of coffee he made, I couldn't think of a better time to try them. (There's also an inside joke among those of us who were around Marion after church dinners or when everyone had had their fill of coffee on a Sunday morning. No one was supposed to dump out the coffee. In fact, if he knew you'd "wasted it," he let you know he didn't approve. If there was leftover coffee, he'd haul it a block home and warm it up to use there. He was the very definition of a Depression-era-raised American.)

Besides singing for the service, I helped with the funeral dinner, as did many others. When Randy came downstairs after completing his pall bearer duties at the cemetery, he told me,  "It sure smells good down here. Actually, it smells good in the whole church."

And I thought again - as I so often do at funeral dinners - about how we are to be the "fragrance" or the "aroma" of Christ.

“For we are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ”  

2 Corinthians 2:15 

Homemade French bread was something else Marion made for funeral dinners. The fragrance of homemade bread as it bakes always permeates a room. It's like doing the little things: It permeates our life and the lives of others. We become the hands and feet and heart of Christ when we do those little, sometimes "invisible," things.

Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children; and walk in love,

 just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us,

 an offering and a sacrifice to God as a fragrant aroma.

Ephesians 5: 1-2 

 

Randy's comment brought me back to the message Pastor Nate preached during the funeral, when he asked "Who will take up the mantle? Who will fill the sacks for the children at Christmas? Who will do the other things that need to be done?"

It will likely take more than one of us to "make the coffee" and take on some of the tasks that Marion and other pillars of the church have done for so many years. And maybe some of those tasks will evolve. It's OK to purchase French bread from the bakery aisle instead of making every loaf from scratch. But it still takes someone to plan for it and actually do it.

Whether we take up the mantle "as is" or get it done in a different way, it's OK. One of my favorite Bible passages -- I Corinthians 12 -- talks about all the parts of the body being important and working together. It takes all of us, using our God-given gifts to do the work of the church or the community - whether that's school music, sports, 4-H, Scouts, Chamber of Commerce, the county fair, food bank ... the examples are endless.

And if you're into "making the coffee" - either in reality or metaphorically - you might like the flavor (and aroma) of these cookies:

Cafe Coffee Cookies

Adapted from a recipe found online

1 cup sugar
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup shortening
1/2 cup butter
2 large eggs
2 tsp. vanilla extract
3 cups all-purpose flour
2 tbsp. instant espresso powder
2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1 cup chopped pecans (plus extra for sprinkling on top)
1 pkg. (12 oz.) semi-sweet chocolate chips

Coffee Drizzle
2 tbsp. butter, melted
1 teaspoon instant espresso powder
1 1/2 - 2 cups cups powdered sugar (approx.)
A splash of milk may be needed

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In a large mixing bowl with paddle attachment, beat together the shortening, butter and sugars until light and creamy. Add eggs and vanilla and mix in well.

Combine flour, espresso powder, baking soda and salt. Add to creamed mixture on low speed, beating just until well combined. Stir in the chopped pecans and chocolate chips.

Using a cookie scoop, drop dough onto prepared baking sheets. Bake for 9 to 10 minutes or until edges are set. Cool on pan for 2 to 4 minutes, then remove to cool completely.

For the glaze: Dissolve espresso powder in the warm melted butter. Add powdered sugar and stir until smooth and until it's a "drizzle" consistency. In honesty, I didn't measure the glaze ingredients that well because I adapted it to include butter. I believe in flavor in any frosting or glaze. So add additional powdered sugar or a splash of milk to make it a glaze consistency. I used a decorator tube to create a more uniform drizzle over the cookies. While the glaze is still wet, sprinkle with additional chopped pecans or mini chocolate chips. (I was out of mini chocolate chips, so I didn't try that this time.) Let the drizzle dry until set.

To store, place cookies in an airtight container, putting layers of waxed paper or parchment between the layers. Makes approximately 4 dozen cookies.

Dismissal with Blessing

God be in your head, and in your understanding. 

God be in your eyes, and in your looking. 

God be in your mouth, and in your speaking. 

God be in your heart, and in your thinking. 

God be in your hands, and in your working. 

God be in your feet, and in your going. 

God be at your end, and at your departing. Amen.

Pastor Nate offered those words at the end of a funeral service yesterday. He called it a "dismissal with blessing."

For me, the blessing wasn't just something "pretty" to say at the end of a funeral. Because I wanted to really think about the words, I asked him to email me a copy this morning.

They could have been the "theme song" for the entire day ... for life in the church ... for life itself. What if I approached life with God in my head, eyes, mouth, heart, hands and feet? What if that was my goal for every day? Every hour? Every minute?

I think funerals - these unique celebrations of life in the midst of death - help us to think about such things. Families and friends come together to remember. And a church family embraces those whose loss cuts to the quick - whether it's the death of the matriarch of the family, as it was during yesterday's services for Phyllis - or the death of an equally important piece of a family's puzzle.

 

A funeral dinner is symbolic of sharing that love for one another. I think the dinners are among the most important services at our church. Our family has been on the receiving end a couple of times. Having a place to gather around a meal after saying goodbye to a beloved family member is a priceless gift.

Besides helping serve, my assignments for the meal yesterday were a salad and a recipe of cheesy potatoes. This time, the potato casserole was about more than stirring together hash browns, cheese, sour cream and other ingredients. This time, it really was a memorial to Phyllis, the woman whose life we would celebrate.

As I pulled out my big red mixing bowl Sunday evening, I remembered that potato casserole was often Phyllis' assignment for Stafford UMC funeral dinners, too. She - like me - was a farm wife. So she carried those potatoes down the stairs at the church in an insulated container - one that I'm sure she also used for carrying many a harvest meal to the field.

Sunday night, I'd stirred up a recipe of cheesy potatoes, probably using a recipe similar to hers. And I thought about her friendship with my late mother-in-law, another woman who made many a salad or cake or potato casserole for a funeral dinner before we - as her family - were on the receiving end after her unexpected death.

The funeral dinner is that "dismissal with blessing" in action.  At our church, Marion and Wanda have made "Methodist meatloaf" 200 times for funeral dinners. Others make cakes, salads and potato casseroles at their own homes and bring them to be shared by the grieving family. A few of us gather to serve the meal, pouring out smiles and hugs along with hot coffee.

However, just like with any "family," we can get offended by the smallest of things. We don't load the dishwasher to someone's exacting directions, and we huff and puff under our breath, miffed that our shortcomings are pointed out instead of celebrating our efforts. We bristle when our way of doing something is questioned.


But what if I took the words of the "dismissal with blessing" to heart? What if I looked at those situations through God's eyes? What if I recognized another's work as God's hands and feet at work in this world?

This season of Advent gives us a chance to again consider how Christ comes to us. We remember the longing of Jews for a Messiah and our own longing for, and need of, forgiveness, salvation and a new beginning.

Even as we look back and celebrate the birth of Jesus in a humble stable in Bethlehem, we also look forward, anticipating the second coming of Christ as the fulfillment of all that was promised by His first coming.

I've been using several resources for my Advent devotionals (While We Wait: Living the Questions of Advent by Mary Lou Redding, and Down to Earth: The Hopes and Fears of All the Years Are Met in Thee Tonight, by Mike Slaughter and Rachel Billups.)

But maybe this simple "dismissal with blessing" sums it up best:

 God be in your head, and in your understanding. 

God be in your eyes, and in your looking. 

God be in your mouth, and in your speaking. 

God be in your heart, and in your thinking. 

God be in your hands, and in your working. 

God be in your feet, and in your going. 

God be at your end, and at your departing. Amen. 

But I need to open the doors of my heart and mind for that little baby to truly arrive.  Because that little baby is also my Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

I walked into the church basement Monday morning, and I smelled the lilacs. The tiny blooms were decorating the tables for a dear friend's funeral dinner, stuffed into unlikely vases made from plastic K-State stadium cups.

That "purple pride" was just one common thread in our lives. So was farming and family and church and the Kansas City Chiefs. The list is long and the feelings are deep.

I looked at those intricate blossoms and marveled at the big fragrance from such tiny flowers. As I busied myself making tea and coffee, a Bible verse kept tickling my memory, but I wasn't coming up with it.

Yesterday, after I'd packed away two baskets of belongings I'd toted to the church for the dinner, I looked it up:

Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance

rising up to God.

2 Corinthians 2:15

All morning long on funeral day, people came to the church basement to leave pans of cheesy potatoes and to drop off plastic-wrap-covered salads. When I'd asked, not one person said, "No, I can't help." In fact, more food arrived than I knew was coming.  Filling the refrigerators was like a giant jigsaw puzzle, squeezing another salad in a bit of empty space.

Later, the fragrance of ham and potatoes displaced the delicate aroma from the lilacs. But through it all, I kept thinking about our lives as a "fragrance rising up to God."

Each little floret that makes up a lilac stem is beautiful individually. The intricate detail on each petal is kind of like a human fingerprint, different, yet similar.

A single lilac floret is beautiful, but alone, it can't make the aroma that permeates the room. We, as individuals, can be beautiful and strong and accomplish a great deal. But how much more can we do when we come together? It was Exhibit A at the funeral and dinner on Monday. Everyone contributing in big and small ways came together to honor a friend and his family with a "Christ-like fragrance."

Just counting quickly, I came up with 41 people (not counting immediate family) who came together to help celebrate a special life in behind-the-scenes work for the funeral, burial and dinner. Many, many others came to celebrate his life at the memorial service. Many gave memorial contributions or offered a tribute of flowers.

Church of the Resurrection UMC Pastor Adam Hamilton wrote a book called The Way: Walking in the Footsteps of Jesus. Among the Scripture readings is Mark 2: 1-12.

It's a familiar story told over and over again as children gather for Sunday School or Vacation Bible School. Jesus is preaching at Peter's home in Capernaum. Some men have a friend who is sick and paralyzed. They have heard that Jesus is a healer, so they carry their friend to the place where Jesus is preaching, believing He can help. When they find that the home is too crowded to enter through the door, they cut a hole in Peter's roof. They lower their friend, who is resting on a stretcher, through the hole and into Jesus' presence. And Jesus sees the friends' great faith and heals the paralyzed man.

There are several things we can take away from this story. The first is that all of us need stretcher-bearers. ... Who are the people who would pick you up, tear off the roof and lower you to Jesus? We all need friends like that, whose faith is strong even when ours is weak, who are friends not just in word, but in deed.

Who are our stretcher-bearers? Whose stretcher-bearer are you?

From Adam Hamilton's book, The Way: Walking in the Footsteps of Jesus

It's a good question. And I think I've had it answered over and over again in the past week. The possibilities to serve as Christ's hands and feet in this world today are plentiful:

Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which He looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which He blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are His body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

Teresa of Avila

And His is the fragrance through which we can honor God in our lives here on earth.

Banana Sheet Cake

Just like everyone else, I have a chocolate sheet cake recipe. Sometimes I make it with cinnamon and sometimes not.

I also have these sheet cake versions: strawberry, coconut, pumpkin, peanut butter and white.

But there was nary a banana sheet cake recipe to be found in my extensive arsenal of tried-and-true church and community cookbooks. I called my Mom. She didn't have one either.

So, with a hefty pile of ripe bananas on my counter and a need to make a sheet cake for a funeral dinner, I turned to Google. After looking at several options, I chose one that had sour cream, which always makes a moist, flavorful cake.

The resulting cake got good reviews from kitchen workers at the church and from my husband. The banana icing recipe (which I did have in my recipe files) got even more thumbs up. It includes mashed-up, ripe bananas for even more banana flavor.

Next time, I'll have this tried-and-true recipe ready to go. Now you can, too!

Banana Sheet Cake

2 cups sugar
3/4 cup butter, softened to room temperature
2 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1/2 tsp. banana extract (opt.)
3 cups flour
1 tsp. salt
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 cup milk
1 8-oz. container sour cream
3-4 ripe mashed bananas (about 1 1/2 cups)

Banana Frosting
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup mashed ripe bananas
1 tsp. lemon juice
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1/2 tsp. banana or coconut extract
4 cups powdered sugar
1 tbsp. milk or cream (or more to make frosting of the proper consistency)

Cake:
Cream together sugar and butter until well incorporated. Add vanilla and eggs, beating well after each addition of an egg. In a separate bowl, combine dry ingredients. Combine milk, sour cream and mashed bananas in another bowl. Beginning and ending with the wet ingredients, add about 1/3 of the milk mixture to the creamed mixture, then 1/3 of the dry ingredients, combining well after each addition. Continue until all the wet and dry ingredients are incorporated, ending with the wet.

Spray sheet pan with nonstick baking spray. Pour batter into pan. Bake in 350-degree, preheated oven for 25-30 minutes. It is done when a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool cake completely and then frost with Banana Frosting.

Frosting:
Combine all ingredients in mixing bowl. Add additional milk or cream if needed for proper spreading consistency. (Or, if too wet, add a little additional powdered sugar.)

Note:  I didn't have banana extract, which was called for in the recipe. Instead, I substituted coconut extract. But you could just use vanilla. 

Ingredients for Life

Last Saturday, I helped serve a funeral dinner at our church. Some made "Methodist meatloaf," our church's go-to main dish for funeral dinners. Some made cakes, salads and potato casseroles at their own homes and brought them to be shared by the grieving family. A few of us gathered to serve the meal, pouring out smiles along with hot coffee.

I think the dinners are among the most important services at our church. Our family has been on the receiving end a couple of times. Having a place to gather around a meal after saying goodbye to a beloved family member is a priceless gift.

Marion and Wanda can probably make the meatloaf without a recipe, though they have it all recorded in a massive 3-ring notebook, with the ratios of hamburger to cracker crumbs to ketchup to eggs all broken down in a handy chart. That notebook also holds a record of some of the precious people of our church who no longer share our earthly pews (like my in-laws who always sat in the balcony).

This month, Pastor Ben has been sharing the stories of saints during our Sunday morning worship services. Some of them, like St. Francis of Assisi, are people we've all heard about. Others aren't household names, but they made a difference that reached beyond their little corner of the world. For example, Jennie Fowler Willing , 1834-1916, was one of the saints Ben talked about last week. The Women's Home Missionary Society she founded is a forerunner to today's United Methodist Women. At our church, that's been the driving organizational force behind the funeral dinners, though others contribute to the bounty of food offered to families.

It's good to remember people who have impacted the world. But Pastor Ben has also brought it closer to home. We've had the opportunity to fill out postcards, remembering saints more near and dear to us. It's been good to remember the people who've made a difference in my faith walk. Like me, they weren't perfect people. But they walked alongside me and others in a way that impacted all of us.

For most of us, it's not a big deal to make a strawberry cake or throw together a salad. But, as we cut squares from the cake pans and lined up salads on the serving table, I thought about how we can all do just a little bit and end up making a big difference. Maybe cooking isn't your thing, so you're not on the "call list" at funeral dinner time. And that's OK, too. Isn't it a blessing that we all have different talents and abilities to share?

***

I made this Crunchy Poppy Seed Coleslaw for the funeral dinner. I also served it at the PEO luncheon I was in charge of earlier this month. It won't be the last time I turn to this easy, yet tasty, salad that serves a crowd. 

Crunchy Poppy Seed Coleslaw

Adapted from Jamie Cooks It Up blog

1 (16 oz.) bag tri-colored coleslaw mix
3 tart apples, chopped
8-10 green onions, finely chopped
1 (12 oz.) bottle Brianna's Poppy Seed Dressing
2 (3 oz.) pkg. ramen noodles (discard seasoning packet or use in another recipe)
1 to 1.5 cups roasted, salted cashews
Salt and pepper to taste

Note: I used Jonathan apples because I liked the tart red apple for a color variation with the coleslaw mix. Since those are not always available, you may use Pink Lady, Honey Crisp or another favorite apple. Granny Smiths would be good, too, but wouldn't give the color contrast.

Combine coleslaw mix, chopped apples and chopped green onion (white and green portions). Pour dressing over the salad. You may do this part 1 hour ahead of time, but it shouldn't be more than 2 hours before serving. Crush ramen noodles and combine with cashews. (Discard the seasoning packet or use for another recipe). Just before serving, toss ramen noodles and cashews into the dressing-covered salad. Stir; add salt and pepper to taste. Serve immediately. Makes about 10 servings.

I served the leftovers from the PEO luncheon to Randy with a hamburger and baked beans.