Real Life by Peggi Tustan

Welcome to Real Life . It (real life) is full of disappointments. “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Lazarus was ill, seriously so. His sisters, Mary and Martha, sent a message to Jesus, “Lord, the one you love is sick.” They fully expected Jesus to come and heal their brother. For, Jesus was more than their Lord. He was their friend. But, Jesus did not come—immediately. He delayed two days. And, Lazarus died. When Jesus finally arrived, the sisters’ greetings are heavy with disappointment. "If only you had been here…" I've felt their disappointment—keenly: when my first husband left and never returned, while drowning in postpartum depression, when my father-in-law lay ill 18 years, when my mom lost her legs, when my sister was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. Lord, if only you had been here. These things would not have happened. Life would be good, as it should be. I know you, Lord. I am your follower and your friend. Why didn...

Welcome to Real Life .   My writer-friend, Raani York, kindly published a recent interview with me.   Hello Peggi, I want to thank you first of all for your readiness to be part of this interview and permit me to publish it on my blog. I did choose you because I have heard of you before and would like for other people to know you and your writing better. Would you explain what made you write in the first place and when you felt the need to write? As a child, I dreamed of writing a book. I can picture my eight-year-old self on the edge of my bed, notebook in hand, penning my first novel. However, I lost confidence and never pursued the dream. Yet, writing remained an integral aspect of my being. I would journal, write for and edit newsletters, and had a strong need to capture every major life event on paper. I’ve always been a voracious reader. Books (both fiction and non-fiction) have greatly impacted my life. Six years ago, while reading a book, God resurrected my ...

Welcome to Real Life . Every been hit by a stone? It hurts. “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now, what do you say?” Jesus’ radical teachings on love and grace infuriated the teachers of the Law and the Pharisees. They had religion down to a neat formula. Obey this, sacrifice that, give so much and you've fulfilled your obligation to God. Jesus messed with their system. (How can you quantify love and grace?)  And, the religious leaders didn't like it one bit. If they could just catch Jesus directly contradicting the Law of Moses, they’d have something concrete to condemn him with. So, while Jesus is teaching in the temple courts, they interrupt the lesson. They drag this poor woman before him. She’s guilty—no doubt—caught in the very act of adultery. What will Jesus do? Will he uphold the Law? But, Jesus won’t play their game. In fact, he won't even answer. Instead, he stoops down and w...

Welcome to Real Life. Not long after I surrendered my life to Christ as a teenager, I ran into a friend in the school cafeteria. She asked, “What’s new?” “I got saved,” I said. “Saved from what?” she replied.      _____ “ Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. ” Luke 2:11 At the launch of Jesus’ public ministry, he stood in his local synagogue and read these words from the prophet Isaiah: The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. [1] Then, Jesus said, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” At that time, the nation of Israel was living under the oppression of the Roman Empire. When Jesus announces that he is the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy, his neighbors respond with i...

Welcome to  Real Life . Earlier this month, I was out walking. The cold wind hit my face. Without thinking, I quoted the opening lines of a poem my mother used to say, “Blow, blow, thou winter wind. Thou art not so unkind as man's ingratitude.” –William Shakespeare   She memorized it in high school. For some reason, it stuck. On a cold winter day, when the wind hit her face, the words resurrected from her memory. Last Christmas with Mom 2011 My mother was known for her grateful heart. It’s funny, I never connected it to Shakespeare’s words … that is, until now. For, a few minutes after saying the lines myself, my thoughts turned towards Thanksgiving. It’s November, after all. Thanksgiving is a holiday of gratitude. After the pilgrim’s first winter in Plymouth (1620-21), two-thirds of their number died of starvation and disease. One year later, at fall harvest, Governor William Bradford called for a special celebration to thank God for his provision of food, she...

Welcome to Real Life .  Sometimes, a few simple words can be so much more.      _____ “I love that shirt on you. Is it comfortable?” Mom asked. “Yep, it feels great,” I replied. “You know, I like comfortable clothes. And if they look good, well, that’s even better.” Simple words. A normal conversation. Yet, on this day, a normal conversation with my mother felt extraordinary. It had been a long time since we shared one. My mother’s health was quickly deteriorating. As her body was breaking down, so was her mind. Her confusion poured out in fearful questions, “Where am I? Why do I feel so sick? When can I get out of here? Where’s Daddy (my father)?” For months, a normal conversation had been beyond her ability. But, on that Friday afternoon, she and I were like two girls at a slumber party. I climbed into her bed, laid down next to her, and we chatted. “We’re going camping this weekend. So, you won’t see me until Sunday.” “Where are you going?” sh...

Welcome to Real Life . How would my dad adjust to my mom’s death? They were so close, inseparable later in life.      _____ Before my mom passed away, she assumed we’d visit her grave often. “It’s near the shopping center. You can stop by to see me before you buy groceries,” she used to say, as if we were going to sit down for coffee and donuts with her at the cemetery. But, after she died, the thought of going to her grave made my heart ache. So, I didn't go. However, as summer was ending, I felt an obligation to take my father to the cemetery before the weather changed. I knew that if dementia had not impaired his memory, he would have asked me to take him. I decided to ask him, “Do you want to visit Mom’s grave?” “Momma zomrela ( died )?” my father asked in Slovak. “Yes,” I answered. “How long?” “Nine months.” It’s hard to know how much Dad remembers. He knows Mom is gone. She no longer shares his room at the nursing home. I posted her obituary near hi...