What do you say about someone whose first trip to the ER occurred because she sat on a knitting needle?
How do you convey the depth of an inquiring mind that asked such profound questions as, “Do you think anyone ever shaves their toes?”
What flowery words would be right for the person whose epitaph for the pig who donated her heart valve implant reads, “In memory of that blessed swine, who gave her life so I’d have mine..”? And she named the pig Gravy, after her heart doctor Graeve.
So folks, this is a warning. If we get too serious here, we are in big trouble with the woman who brought us all together. Seriousness will never do, for a lady who crocheted dragons and bears and wrote novels about a town called Stones Throw. Case in point: I got a lecture for wearing my “minister at the bedside” face when I came to pray with Chris just prior to the surgery that implanted the aforementioned pig valve. Christi was a woman who delighted in life and would happily lay into anyone who thought “solemnity” and “propriety” appropriate in her presence.
Now there’s a curiosity. All this joy from a woman who spent most days in pain and much of her time confined to her recliner. How do you reconcile chronic illness and humor, chronic pain and the obviously full life that Christi led?
You do it the way Christi did, by giving yourself away. You do it by crocheting bears that you give away to replace lost possessions, or that you carry in your purse, to give to any child you meet on the rare occasions when you have enough energy to venture out. You do it by knitting sweaters for the homeless shelter and afghans to warm the feet and hearts of your entire family. You do it by building a tiny dragon bride and bear groom as the perfect gift for a friend’s wedding.
You find the joy in life by connecting with people half a world away, with virtual communities built by hours of email and Facebook. Christi was a staunch defender of the possibilities of the computer as a bridge to a world of fascinating people who might otherwise never meet. She took great pride in being the faith-filled heretic in the congregation that began as readers of Andrew Greely.
You give yourself away by writing novels that build imaginary lives into people others want to get to know, in towns that might exist if we only knew where. Christi said of her town,
“Stone’s Throw, Nebraska is a mythical town populated by mythical people. Characters, plots, and settings, cannot exist outside the limits of fiction and should never be interpreted as actual people, events, or places. Never confuse your horse with my unicorn. “
But she described very convincing unicorns!
Chris found joy in life because she was filled with gratitude. In the midst of what many of us might have considered crushing circumstances, she could find not only the humor of her situation but also reasons to be grateful for whatever came her way. Her epitaph for Gravy is one picture of that gratitude. This note, titled, ”The Gift of Life," in gratitude for the people who donated blood, is another.
The Gift of Life
Someone saved my life today.
I donʼt know who they are
or even know their name.
I donʼt know if they are male or female
or the color of their eyes or skin or hair.
I donʼt know how they make their living
or what they dream of doing when they go out to play.
I donʼt know if they believe in God
or just the kindness of strangers.
I donʼt know what made them open that door
and leave a part of themselves inside.
I do know their priceless gift was the difference between life and death.
My life. My death.
Without their gift
my husband would be without his wife,
my son without his mother.
People I love would mourn
a sister, a daughter, a friend.
Without their gift
my dreams would have died
unrealized, unshared, unexplored.
But someone saved my life today
with a sacrificial gift of blood.
My family lives together
whole.
I live a life of dreams I now make real.
Someone saved my life today.
I donʼt know who or where or why.
Whoever you are
I would just like to say
Thank you.
Christi Mead Nielsen loved life, everything about it and everyone in it. No matter how much they might annoy her! But she had a special love for family. Two of her books dedications are for her sisters:
“To my sister, Melinda Mead Willingham, who taught me to be proud of being different.”
“To Andrea (Mead) Chambers, who taught me the meaning of unconditional love.”
Brief and telling pictures of the different way each of them helped her understand life.
And this dedication to the love of her life:
"To my husband, Kim W. Nielsen, for faithfully fulfilling his promise to love, honor, and edit. For supporting me in good times and in bad, even when the bad times included more rejection slips than I can count. For standing with me in sickness knowing there would be very little health. And for loving me and inspiring me in ways no one else could.
She rejoiced in her husband and her son. And she was determined that every night would be family night, with time for a television favorite and a conversation about the day. What energy she had for venturing beyond home was reserved for gatherings of the Mead clan when all were in town, and connecting with good friends.
If you didn’t hear your name in one of the dedications, it’s because Christi hadn’t finished writing all the books she had inside. I am convinced that, given more years and more books, each of you would either be in a dedication or show up as model for one of her characters. Even unicorns are drawn from something in real life!
And even if you didn’t hear your name, know that you were loved for who you are, and how your life intertwined with Christi’s. That’s the reason we’re all here. To celebrate a life that touched us and touches us still. And to hear the sermon preached by that life.
Did you know Christi had intended to be a minister? Somewhere along the line, that intention changed, but she never stopped preaching. St Francis said, “Preach the gospel always. If necessary, use words.” Today we get to focus on the sermon Chris has been preaching for many years.
Because she’d rather the focus be on her faith than on her. Faith that, as the psalmist said, we are fearfully and wonderfully made. Faith that every one of us is a child of God, created by God, hemmed in before and behind by a loving Lord who never lets us go. For God never abandons who God has created.
And, even more than being wonderfully created, we are loved by the Creator, with a love that is patient and kind, that is never irritable or resentful, that bears all things. The songs Christi’s cousin sang today are love songs, to be sure. As you hear the words, remember them as love songs from God, daring us to love and be loved with the depth and breadth of relationship that God has shown us. We are loved with a perfect love, by a God who became one of us to show us how to live, how to love, and how to die.
There is a little book by Henri Nouwen called, “Life of the Beloved.” It uses the four steps of Eucharist, the Communion service, as a call to each of us to model Christ in the world. Scripture tells us, on the night when he was arrested, Jesus took bread…
We are taken, chosen, called to be God’s hands and feet in the world.
He blessed it.
We are blessed by God for the ministries to which we are called, whether we are caring for lepers in the streets of Calcutta or making sweaters for homeless children in eastern Nebraska.
He broke it.
That’s the hard part. You can’t share something if it stays whole. Not a loaf of bread. Not a life. We have to give up and give in and let God use us when we respond to our call. It might mean a move, or being house-bound. It might mean ministry in north Africa or North Omaha or north Blair. But when we respond, we are broken so that we can be shared.
He gave it to his disciples.
That’s the good part. Just as Jesus shared himself with his disciples, with the people of Palestine, with us, we get to share ourselves with each other. And because we get to share ourselves,
“Love bears all things, hopes all things,
endures all things. Love never ends.
Nothing in all creation can separate us form the love
Of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
We get to live the life of the Beloved. Jesus modeled that life for us 2000 years ago. Christi preached to us about it for a lot of years. Now it’s our turn to take on the sermon and keep it going, one life at a time. And nothing can separate us from the love of God. Not even death.
Amen.
