TJ Hirst

The Question: Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us today?

Remember the original Parent Trap movie? When twin sisters, Susan and Sharon—who don’t even know they are sisters—tangle in a a power struggle, the camp director assigns them to share a cabin for the rest of summer camp. This week my daughters received their own version of that.

Each has had her own room since we moved into our new house three years ago. With their age difference of five years, they have few common connections, except that they are sisters.

My sister and I shared a room until she left home for college. Many of my childhood memories took place with sister talks late at night. Maybe I am just nostalgic, but my oldest will be leaving for college, herself, in four years and I fear they may be running out of time to develop their own bond.

Summer seems to show the strain in their relationship the most. Last summer I threatened a consequence of sharing a room if I didn’t see improvement. They repaired the fracture, but we all barely passed the test. I say we because this also was a test for me to see if I could improve my parenting skills from referee to relationship coach.

Now, the summer is two-thirds the way over, and some outstanding issues surfaced during our girl week while the boys went to scout camp. So, I said to them, for the last two nights you will sleep in the same room, alternating rooms on each night. Your goal—find what is good about one another.

Still, the competition started up again, and I knew it was time to stop threatening and make this move more than two nights. They would have to share a room. Tears. Tears. Tears. For each one of us.

What was I thinking? Why did I say that, especially when Paul was out of town. Their reactions caused me to doubt my decision. Was it right?

I didn’t want to do this, knowing the blessing their own rooms have been. And trying to rearrange all that for the start of the school year seemed overwhelming.

Then, I removed myself from the chaos of the moment, and I could think more clearly about how to implement this move. If we moved the beds right now, without waiting to create a perfect shared room, the impact would be immediate. Then, the move could be temporary while they work together to meet the goal instead of the threat of this as a permanent consequence if they couldn’t figure out how to meet the goal.

Later, they continued to complain. But their reactions didn’t sway me. Was I not compassionate about their concerns for privacy? Yes, but the spirit-filled guidance assured me it was the right thing.

They adapted to the plan pretty fast and forged together, at least enough to coordinate the transfer of stuff with beds in one room and activities in the other. Now we’ll see what the influence of a budding princess is on a blossoming teen and back again.

My son stood in the library searching for a “boy book” to read. I spied The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain, which I wanted to start for the Bodacious Bloggity Book Club. I encouraged him to read it with me.

Years ago, my children and I watched the movie version of Tom Sawyer together. At the end of the movie, Becky Thatcher and Tom become lost in a dark cave and discouraged. Then Tom sees a way out. He goes forward toward that light, keeps climbing and finds an exit.

At the time, we stopped the movie and talked about this ending. I taught my children about symbols in literature and symbols in the scriptures. I told them that light is a symbol that is often connected with Jesus Christ. My son, NH, wasn’t more than five or six years old. And he said, “When we are in the darkness we can pray and we will be able to see the light so we can get out.”

The discussion left an impression on my son and on me. With that memory, I expected to read the book and experience those same feelings and have that discussion again. However, I was honestly a little disappointed that the book’s ending was more focused on the treasure the boys found in the cave than on Becky and Tom’s disappearance and rescue. Oh the problems of expectations!

Once I recognized that my disappointment was only from my memories, I could enjoy Mark Twain’s original story for what it is. It is very boyish, as I had told my son. And the author was true to his words from the preface:

Although my book is intended mainly for the entertainment of boys and girls, I hope it will not be shunned by men and women on that account, for part of my plan has been to try to pleasantly remind adults of what they once were themselves, and of how they felt and thought and talked, and what queer enterprises they sometimes engaged in.

My sisters and I used to talk about never forgetting what it is like to be a kid. I promised myself that, but how hard it is to remember that perspective when another one comes to replace it. As an adult woman I couldn’t relate to the rambunctious activities of Tom and Joe Harper and Huck, but it was fun to think that these same desires to be free and creative are the same ones that drive my son to build forts with the neighbors all summer long.

Tom’s manipulative enterprising tactics to get the other boys to paint the fence for him also amused me. How true it is that if you ask someone to pay for the privilege of work, that work becomes more valued. Doesn’t this relate to so many of our modern pleasures that only become valuable when we see the price that people are willing to pay? Then we are all prepared to be duped into lining up for our share.

I am often discouraged at adults in children’s books because they look so stupid from a child’s perspective and truly seem to be diminished in authority. As a parent I don’t ever think the author is doing other adults any service by painting them in such a silly way. I know, I need to not take myself or these portrayals too seriously. Knowing that about my self, this time I had fun looking toward Aunt Polly’s foibles and her qualities with delight. For instance, when Aunt Polly is questioning Tom, Twain as narrator gives this commentary,

Like many simple-hearted souls, it was her pet vanity to believe she was endowed with a talent for dark and mysterious diplomacy, and she loved to contemplate her most transparent devices as marvels of low cunning.

This made me laugh at myself a little bit and wonder at my own pet vanities, which more often than not include the same pride that Aunt Polly shows in her discipline methods. When she scolds Tom for breaking the sugar dish that Sid actually broke,

her conscious reproached her, and she yearned to say something kind and loving; but she judged that this would be construed into confession that she had been wrong, and discipline forbade it.

Despite these weaknesses that she had, I loved the tenderheartedness of Aunt Polly when she truly believes that Tom is in danger.

Over and again the book showed how we all battle with our conscious and our own desires and wills. That happened for Aunt Polly, it happened for Tom and Becky, and to some extent, in the conclusion, it even happened for Huck.

Try-It With-Me Tuesday, an interactive weekly time and place to foster connections that challenge and encourage the process to become a well-rounded person.

I believe in life after death. In the last year I researched many of our ancestors’ lives and the close connection to our family history confirms my belief even more. What I believe happens to us after death is dramatically different from the fictional story by Mitch Albom, The Five People You Meet in Heaven. Yet, I appreciated a fresh look at this topic that we rarely discuss for fear of offending one another with our personal beliefs.

Following Eddie through his death is like wandering beside him through his search for understanding. His death is not the cliffhanger but the impetus for his journey. The story is his process of coming to terms with his life, his relationships, his choices.

In addition to moving Eddie forward through the steps of heaven, Mr. Albom uses flashbacks to his birthdays in life to inform the reader of Eddie’s history. These flashbacks, like most flashbacks as a literary tool, are difficult to comprehend and fit together in a reader’s mind. However, they establish the circumstances better than a chronological story would and keep the immediacy focused on Eddie’s life after death rather than those moments themselves.

Eddie meets five people who have also died and they assist him in his journey to learn about his life. Each person crossed Eddie’s path—some he knew, others he didn’t—and changed his life. Now in heaven, these five people meet with him and “illuminate” his life as the first person explains to him.

One of the main concepts of this book is that in life we do not know the impact of our lives, for good or for bad, on other people. In heaven Eddie has the chance, with the aid of these five people, to learn about his relationships with his family, seek the peace he desires, look past himself to forgiveness, and discover redemption.

The story does not identify God or His purposes in heaven or in our lives. Rather, the author focuses on the five individuals to bring Eddie through a process. This prompts a curious question for me. If I were in Eddie’s story, “Who would my five people be?”‘

I believe it might be some of those people in my life who have played an important, but less verbal role—like my mother or my oldest daughter. It would certainly include several strangers and an acquaintance or two.

So, I ask you, which five people would you meet?

By having Eddie meet five people in heaven the story is more universal for all faiths. Still, I lead my life with faith in God, assured that he is there and lives even though I cannot see him and do not have tangible evidence of him. Faith makes possible the restoration of relationships through forgiveness and redemption here in this life.

So, I would maybe change my question from which five people would I meet once I died, to whom should I meet now?

Did you read this book with me or have you read it before? What did you think? Leave a comment below or go to my contact page and send me a link to a post you have written about it and I will publish it.

As I have said in the past, my husband is my resident techie. His company’s web server hosts my website. Last week I was sympathizing with Ryan at RYSCOTT over tech issues and even offered Paul’s experience using WordPress on our server. (He still may be having them because I can’t get to his link at www.ryscott.net) If I only knew what would happen within hours to me!

On this day, while Paul was in Wisconsin with our son at scout camp, the new telephone/Internet company decided to move our service without telling anyone. Actually, what happened was they forgot to tell the old telephone/Internet company about a change in the company’s move date. (Oldham Hirst Design is moving into new offices in August.)

As a result, last Thursday I was cut off from the world. My website went down. My email stopped sending and receiving. And I loved it!

I took an unintended blogging break and went to the beach with my daughters and some of their friends. Minnesota is the land of more than 10,000 lakes and one of our favorite swimming beaches is on a small lake named Whipple Lake or Whipple Beach as we call it. Here we dug our feet in the sand and enjoyed life without all that technology.

I hate to admit this, but I did love two days without a website and wondered why I’m still keeping it going every day. Paul returned on Saturday and sorted through all the issues, which was not an easy task, and restored my connections. I’m not sure that my wonderings have been answered. But, I’ve come back a little more rested, a little wiser about my time spent writing, and a lot more grateful for Paul’s skills.

Galatians 5:22-23