storytime

Grandpa reads to Scarlett. Taken sometime mid-March. Oh, how he loved her!!!



So many are losing little ones lately. My blog friend Amanda just observed the one-year anniversary of her infant son, Zachary's death. My years-long acquaintance, Roz, just in the last couple weeks miscarried a daughter at 6 weeks. My college friend Amanda' brother and sister-in-law, Bobby and Sara, are still reeling months after losing their infant son, Paul. Angie Smith (wife of Selah's Todd Smith) recently carried their fourth daughter for months, only to enjoy her for just a couple hours after her birth. My cousin's wife Lisa is currently on her third or fourth pregnancy, hoping desperately to reach full term for the first time.

I'd like to think that these precious children are at this moment filling in as temporary grandkids for my dad. We longed to have had so much more time with him, yet I wouldn't wish him back to this earth for anything, now that he's experienced the glories of heaven and the presence of Jesus.

Maybe he will read each of them a story, too.

time to breathe

It's starting to hit home. We've been grieving for three months, even though he's been gone just a week, but since the beginning of February we've been going a million miles a minute non-stop. Ever since my dad received his diagnosis my mind and heart have been agonizing with him and for him, and then when he finally passed there were so many preparations to be made and details to work out, that I have hardly had time to really tell myself that my dad is gone. Not annihilated gone, but intangible gone for now.

'Are you kidding? He is gone?'

For a while it was almost like he had simply taken a trip out of state or out of the country. Since I live out of state it wasn't so different than that at first. But now that we've left him at the cemetery and the memorial service is over, I know that it could be a long time before I get to see him again.

All week as we finalized the plans for the service I have had split-second thoughts with the desire to contact my dad. Oh, we need to tell Dad about______. When is Dad going to get here? I better call and make sure Dad wouldn't mind us telling this joke. Even at church last Sunday morning, just a few hours after I heard he passed away, my pastor presented an excellent message that I knew he would love, and I had the split-second idea to order the sermon tape for him. And then I was like, 'Oh, yeah....'

I know I will probably one day think I see my dad in a crowd, or start to bawl at the slightest memory of him. This is just the beginning of missing him, and while I stand upon the resurrection with all my might, I already know that the missing will never go away.

I am just new at this grieving stuff.

Surprisingly, the most difficult photos to look at are not those of my dad most recently, looking skin-and-bones and dreadfully ill and weak. The most heart-wrenching photos are the ones from just a couple years ago, photos from approximately 2000 to 2006. It is difficult to see him healthy and full of life. Makes it hard to believe that the last three months happened at all. Won't I wake up from this nightmare and jump into that photo of my dad playing catch with my brother? Or the one where he's sharing a pleasant conversation between relatives? Or how about the one where he's sitting behind a clean dinner plate and offer him some coffee and dessert? Can't I go share some of these moments with my dad just one more time?


We just arrived back on the East Coast this afternoon, and I find myself a little depressed to be here. Nobody here knows my dad. Nobody can nod with understanding when I share a story of him. Nobody catches on when I interject a phrase he was known for and then afterward ask, 'Who always says that?' Nobody can think back with me. Nobody can offer up a statement like, 'Hey, remember the time...?' Nobody here can share my sorrow.

They know me. They can sympathize with me or even empathize with a loss of their own. But they can't share my dad with me like his family and friends can. The memorial service yesterday felt like a dream. Everything went smoothly and beautifully. All of these people showed up because they love and miss and knew my dad! They wanted to talk about him and look at pictures of him just as much as I did. They wanted to cry over him and at the same time rejoice for him just like I did! That's why we were there. And it ended far too soon. As I left out of the church I wished that the day would never end. I wanted to keep on sharing and hugging and laughing and crying. All of these things collectively just seemed to make my dad come back to life, even though where he is right now he's far more alive than any of the stories we could ever tell about him.

But now I am a thousand miles away from even an acquaintance of his, and I am left to grieve alone as I attempt to resume my daily responsibilities. I know I am truthfully not alone in this. Christ himself is with me, and he is enjoying my dad's presence as I type. My rock-of-a-husband Jeromy is so incredibly quick to provide abundant support as we walk this new road without my father. Of course, my family members and others who experienced life with my dad are just a phone call away. We spent some rich time with my aunt Beverly, my dad's sister, and also got re-acquainted with their half-sister, Karen, who traveled from Florida. These last few days with family were immensely therapeutic, and I know they, as well as my immediate family and other extended relatives are all a phone call or email click away. And of course, my friends, including some of whom have recently experienced pain of their own, have enormously encouraged me with their love during this time.

So why am I depressed, again?

My "normal" has since taken on a very different appearance. Life has to go on, and I just can't blubber all day. God's hand often brings change, and while I recognize the good these changes are designed to effect in my life and in the lives of my family, I remain helpless to regard them and embrace them but for his strength and grace.

I'd give anything for a root beer float.

All Things Gary Nelson

I kept this written just as it sounded at the memorial service on Saturday. I can't believe I made it through without any Kleenex!!! The service was amazing. Slide show to come. I miss you, Dad.

*****

You all think I'm crazy standing up here. You're right.

First of all, I shouldn't have to be standing up here. Not yet. You hear so many accounts of someone or other's family member developing cancer, but you just don't think it will happen to someone in your own family. Or at least not before you've agreed they've lived a long and full life.

Dad was so looking forward to retirement. He never really enjoyed driving truck, but that was how he could provide, and providing is one thing he was always passionate about. There was never too much money, but somehow all the bills got paid, his children got through college, he faithfully gave to the church, and he tried to remain consistently debt free. My dad looked to meet the immediate need, but he often sacrificed unsaid wants and even needs for the sake of his own family.

Can we go as far as to say, then, that the reason I am standing up here today, and the reason all of you are here today is because of those very sacrifices? What a tragedy if we had to say yes. Can we say that my dad's illness could have been successfully treated if only they had discovered the cancer at an earlier stage? Perhaps. Whom do we blame? The doctors? My dad? Myself? God?

It is senseless to ask the "why" questions. We are all here today because cancer took over my dad's body and drove him out of it. In retrospect, we understand that cancer was God's will for my dad's life. Yet, we cannot blame or curse God because of it. We are not bitter. Disease like cancer is a result of the Fall and sin's curse on the world, but God also allowed this cancer to grow my dad spiritually and to touch countless lives in the process.

God promises that He will one day restore all that is broken, including: diseases, natural disasters, weeds, parasites; and He will remove all pain, sorrow and, ultimately, death. For those who have trusted Christ, He offers the promise of enjoying our physical bodies once again; bodies, which He will make perfect and sinless. And that includes my dad.

Until then, however, God is in the business of restoring hearts, preserving souls.

And so, well, I am standing up here, it did happen to my family.....but you better believe that my dad lived a long and full life! There are so many traits that made my dad unique. During the afternoon he passed away, my brother and I came up with quite an extensive list of what I call, "All Things Gary Nelson". I will not share them all, because the list could infinitely continue, but these are just a few of the things that make us smile when we think of our experiences with our dad.

I know all of you would attest that there was nobody quite like Gary Nelson. He was one of the most easy-going people to be around, genuinely friendly and likable to everyone. He was always comfortable in his own shoes. He never really cared about the latest this-or-that, he was always content with what he already had. Extremely practical, his only requests for Christmas gifts typically consisted of two items: white tube socks and D batteries! He rarely expressed what he really wanted, although we certainly treated him well beyond socks and batteries!

And he refused to purchase clothing until he nearly wore out what he owned, proudly wearing ties from the 70's and 80's well into the 21st century! That was just him, and while perhaps not the most fashionably dressed, we always found his attire endearing because he just didn't care. If he was comforable and warm, he was good.

I have to say, both Justin and I believe we inherited Dad's sense of humor. You know him. If you had to sum up my dad's humor into just one word, what would it be?

DRY.

Absolutely! Dad was literally tongue-and-cheek. He would put the line out there and wait for the reaction, but you could always tell he was joking because he looked like he was trying not to laugh. Either that or he would wink really fast, and whether you caught it or not, his punch line was sure to make you groan. Dad was very much a kid at heart. He liked to goof around and find the humor in life. That made him into an awesome dad when he spent time with us. I love that I inherited his sense of humor. I'm not as skilled as he - Justin might be - but I'm working on it.

One summer, either during our high school or college years, Justin wanted me to watch the movie, "Signs" with him. I'm not one bit a fan of thrillers, but apparently Justin convinced me to watch. So there we were sitting in the living room in the dark, watching an alien movie, so of course I'm already on edge. Just when the suspense has me reeled in, Dad walked into the room wearing my brother's Newt Gingrich mask. Both of us about jumped out of our skin! Sometimes he was so random like that!

Yeah. I don't know why Justin owned a Newt Gingrich mask, either.

Dad loved people who could make him laugh. He loved old slapstick shows like The Three Stooges, The Honeymooners, Laurel and Hardy, and let me tell you, he laughed till there were tears rolling down his eyes and till he'd have to catch his breath. He enjoyed blooper shows like America's Funniest Home Videos, and he also loved good, clean stand-up comedians. Red Skelton, Jerry Lewis, and all the classics. Then I introduced him to Mark Lowry, who became his most recent favorite.

Last month God gave me the gift of two precious weeks with my dad, and at times he would open up and really share his heart. On one such occasion he told me that he was not afraid of death, only the dying process. That warmed my heart because it assured me he was certain of his Eternal destination, and I didn't blame him for the second part. It made me think of a phrase from one of Mark Lowry's comedy bits that my dad liked so much, "I'm not afraid of dying.....I just don't want to be there when it happens!"

It is amazing how Dad was able to keep his dry humor until the very end. All of us who spent some time with him over the last few months can attest to this.

At one point Jeromy and I were talking to him over the phone, and for a while there, Dad really believed there was hope he could survive the cancer. After pausing to reflect on the possibility one way or another he said, "Well...at least I survived the 60's!"

During that same conversation Jeromy made a comment, in all seriousness, that Dad was closer to standing in the presence of God than ever before, as if he were knocking on Heaven's door. And of course, Dad piped up with, "Isn't that a Bob Dylan song?" and started singing the lyrics.

And then Bev, groping for the right words to comfort and ease my dad's suffering, said, "If you can't fight anymore, Gary, just let go." Dad didn't buy it. "Naah, that only works in Hollywood," he said.

Justin last saw Dad the Sunday before he passed away. He was trying to say his goodbyes before he left the care center, and then Dad abruptly pointed his finger in the air and stated, "But just remember. I'm not dead yet!"

How can he not be at this moment entertaining the saints and angels with his quick wit! Certainly, humor played a huge role in the person God created my dad to become. It brought us joy and comfort to see him laughing even in his last days.

One of my favorite "Dad humor" lines was stated so matter-of-factly that he was clearly proud of himself! One time Justin accidentally shot and killed a rabbit in the back yard with his BB gun. "Accidentally" because he was sure he would miss. Well, he's apparently a pretty good shot because once he realized he'd hit the thing, he scrambled to figure out what to do with it. So he did what any boy would do with a dead rabbit: he stuffed it into a large ziplock bag and threw it into the chest freezer! (And it remained in there for years, until just last month, in fact!) I don't know how long it took Dad to notice the frozen rabbit, but I just remember him coming up the steps to Sunday dinner and saying, "It appears that rabbit's had a bad “hare” day." And then of course he said something classic like, "I think it winked at me."

Speaking of "hair"...

Although Dad never cared too much what people thought of him as far as appearances go, he did care about losing his hair. He seemed to have perfected the comb-over, and regularly carried his comb with him wherever he went. In fact, one day while he and my mom were dating, he accidentally left his comb at my grandparents' house in Waterville and stopped at a pay phone to make sure they could find the comb and save it for him. You never know when you need a few “swipes”, as he called it.

One morning while I was still in high school I must have been complaining about a bad hair day. My dad overheard and let me have the truth, “At least you have hair!” What could I say to that??

Justin remembers when dad misplaced his asthma spray. Nothing frustrated him more than forgetting where he put something of value or importance. Justin watched him stomp around the house for a few minutes, back and forth through the living room. All of sudden he declared, “I hate losing things!” and then under his breath Justin heard him mutter, “Especially my hair!”

After Dad passed away I was thinking about when Christ returns and the resurrection of the dead takes place. That was one of the last subjects I spoke about with him. Especially in such a dark hour of his life he desperately needed to cling to those promises of God. Now, I don't really know what our new or restored bodies will look like or be like, but while I was contemplating my dad coming out of that grave I wondered, 'Will he request a full head of hair?' I won't know what to think of him!

Dad had some hobbies, although he didn't have a whole lot of time to devote to them. He loved baseball, for one. One of my very favorite memories of time spent with my dad is playing catch at the park on Sunday afternoons. He insisted that we each own nice ball gloves, and taught us the principles of catching and throwing. I never did get rid of my fear of the ball, but Justin and I both benefited from all those afternoons playing catch, as Justin played outfielder in college, and I threw discus in high school. Just don't ask me to aim.

You would think he got his throwing arm from all those push-ups he did religiously every morning! Because he sure had a nice set of pipes! Justin and I were wondering if that could have been the reason he always rolled up his T-shirt sleeves - to show off his biceps! That and his wicked farmers tan! I bet you'll never see such a leathery forearm again in your whole life! His right arm remained as white as a ghost, but that left arm, he would hang out the truck window day in and day out! And I'm going to miss it.

When I was young I also remember my whole family planting a huge garden (well, huge for the suburbs, at least!). Carrots, green beans, tomatoes, radishes... My dad loved yard work in general. There is nothing in the world like fresh veggies from the garden. Dad loved a good salad, especially with lots of fresh tomatoes!

During my visit with Dad last month I picked up some tomatoes from the store, because nothing made me happier than to see him enjoy food. It seemed his loss of appetite seemed his biggest frustration, especially in those last weeks. All of us know how much he loved to eat! I always wished I had inherited his jet engine of a metabolism because he rarely ever ate less than three helpings at any given meal! Justin referred to Dad's typical buffet plate as a "train wreck". Who would have thought jello would go so well mixed with hamburger hotdish?! One thing is for sure, no container of leftovers ever stood a chance with my dad around!

I like to bake on occasion, and while I was still living at home I found a recipe for espresso brownies. Gotta satisfy that chocolate craving! The recipe called for instant coffee grounds. Well, I missed the "instant" part. Out of the oven, the brownies looked and smelled so good, and my dad asked if he could try one. You should have seen his face! The trooper ate the whole thing....but asked for a toothpick afterward!

One of my dad's favorite foods was grilled pork chops (which always turned out sort of dry, but nothing beats the charcoal taste). Well, and when you got Heinz 57 sauce slathered all over something it doesn't matter what you're eating!

He also liked JuJubees candy, grape juice, scrambled eggs with buttered toast, footlong hotdogs from the Minnesota State Fair (he prided himself in "putting away two footlongs" each year at the fair), and he loved Bridgemans' chocolate sodas. During the last few weeks of his life, though, Dad had one craving: rootbeer floats. And when he expressed the minutest intrest in a food – any food – you went with it. I will never forget sitting in his dimly lit room with him one night and sharing a rootbeer float together.

Dad also loved reading. Another trait he passed down. Whenever he had a book in his hand, it was usually either on history or theology. I used to go to him whenever I had a homework question on one of those two topics. I always expected a couple sentence answer, but who was I kidding?? An hour later...his gums still flapping and my head still nodding – and spinning.... I always got more answer than I bargained for! Sometimes I would play devil's advocate on a topic, and he would get all defensive and probably thought I was some heretic, and then I would try to convince him that I just wanted to look at the issue from all sides! There were some good debates started from just one little question! One topic I tried to steer clear of, however, was politics! Don't even want to get him started there!

Oh, and by the way, he told me he was planning on voting for Hillary this year. TOTALLY kidding!

The list just goes on and on. I could talk about how, in his youngster days, Dad looked a spitten image of Theodore Cleaver; a.k.a, “The Beave”. I could talk about a story I heard of when Dad relentlessly teased a neighborhood dog that was tied up and then when it broke loose and attacked him. I could mention his childhood fear of Catholic nuns walking down the block, and how he hid under the seats in a theater once while watching the Three stooges because he thought the fighting was real. I could talk about his “fat wallet” which contained little cash but volumes of notes, receipts, and addresses from decades past. (Justin called it his “hamburger wallet”.) I could mention Dad's – and my – worst ever pet peeve: wet socks. For both of us, slippers are/were a must. I could quote my dad's response to anyone offering him a chair, “No thanks. I spend all day sitting down; it's kind of a treat to stand.” (I don't know about you but I sit down all day at work also, but the more I sit, the more I want to lay down!) I could recall some favorite memories of my Dad when he would spend one whole day a year with me in school and interact with the kids in my class. I could talk about how he gave his mother salmon for Christmas every single year – don't ask. I could recall the funny songs he sang and silly games he played with us in the car during road trips. And I could describe the sight of my dad so thirsty that he would cup his hands at the kitchen faucet and drink for like half a minute.

I was so encouraged to hear that the night shift nurse who worked on my dad's wing is a believer. Throughout my dad's last night and into the early morning, I heard that Irene checked on him every ten minutes because she could tell he was fading. She checked to see if he was breathing, and if he was awake, she spoke with him, and on one occasion, she even prayed with him. How that heals a daughter's heart to know her father was so well taken care of in his last moments. And we know that the Lord must have poured out His grace upon my dad like never before, because that is what all of us were praying for. How merciful is our God to take Dad Home without too miserably long an illness that so many other cancer patients suffer through. He experienced very little pain, just some back pain in the last couple of days. He agonized over feeling weak and helpless, but even that is over. His pain has ended; his struggle is done.

The apostle Paul said in Philippians 1 that although he cared deeply about his relationships on this earth, he also wanted to go and be with the Lord because he knew it would be "far better" than life on this imperfect earth in this imperfect body. For those of us in Christ, we understand that our beloved relationships will continue into Eternity, and so death does not devastate us and leave us without hope as it does those without Christ.

I got the call about ten minutes after my dad passed, and my first thoughts were, "Praise God, no more suffering! He made it to the finish line and won the race. His faith has been perfected and God has completed his work in him!" All these Scriptures came flooding to my mind, and honestly, my heart was rejoicing too much to even cry. And now my tears stem from not losing my father, but missing him. Wishing for just one more conversation with him on some theology or history topic (but please no politics!) Wishing to be with him in Heaven, and yet wishing he could be here to join this awesome party - his own stinkin' party, after all!!!

We miss his presence, don't we? We miss his joyful spirit.

But he's glad for where he is, and he's glad he came precisely when he did. Life beyond this life is such a mystery to us, even knowing all of God's promises for the believer. But if we could but catch a glimpse of the peace and the worship and the happiness that is his at this moment, the beauties and pleasures of this world and this life would seem a drop in the bucket in comparison. The best gift God ever gave us was His glorious self. If we can just "get" that in this life, we would claw for what is to come. But we would also find ways to experience Him and to reflect Him while we're still living in this flesh. If my dad were standing up here today instead of me, I think that is what he would want all of you to know. He certainly did not live it out perfectly, but his unwavering faith in Christ kept him to the very end, and is keeping him even now.

I told him a couple weeks ago that soon his life just going to continue. He was simply going to step out of one world and into another, and I believe that is exactly what he did. God finished his work of faith in him just like He said.

I promised I would honor my dad's Christian legacy today, and I pray that he will continue to reap generations upon generations of believers. Neither my mom, Justin, Bekka, Jeromy, nor myself take that charge lightly. We will continue in his godly example.

We love my dad, and we praise God for the gift of Gary Nelson.

Star Tribune

Nelson, Gary S. age 64, of St. Louis Park. Preceded in death by parents, William and Myrtle; half-brother, Michael Moore. Survived by wife, Linda; children, Tara (Jeromy) Tichner and Justin (Bekka); granddaughter, Scarlett Nelson; sister, Beverly (Bob) Gillespie; nieces and nephews. Memorial service Saturday, 11 AM at Liberty Baptist Church, 6500 Baker Rd., Eden Prairie. Private interment Ft. Snelling. In lieu of flowers, memorials preferred to the family. Gearty-Delmore 952-926-1615 Published in the Star Tribune on 4/22/2008.

Celebration of LIFE

Memorial Service for Gary Nelson (my dad!)

EVERYONE WELCOME!

Saturday, April 26, 2008
11:00 a.m.
*fellowship lunch to follow

Liberty Baptist Church
6500 Baker Road
Eden Prairie, MN 55346
952-934-0811

Directions

Join us for a celebration of my dad's life and recent Homegoing! Also, there is still time to place an order through Pampered Chef to benefit my dad's medical and funeral costs. See post.

Well Done, Good and Faithful Servant

Gary Stewart Nelson
October 5, 1943 - April 20, 2008

Dad, we long for the day when we will see you again. We praise God for your salvation and for His Mercy to you! No more suffering, only joy! We love you!

This is SO last minute, but anyways....

Alright, who likes Pampered Chef? Have a need? Have a want? Here you go!

I am hosting a show with my co-workers next week with the help of Suzanne, a friend from church and Pampered Chef consultant. She recommended I also extend the offer beyond the actual show so others have the opportunity to order and contribute to this fund-raiser, which will benefit my dad's medical and funeral expenses.















Unfortunately, money issues have always sort of plagued my dad. Even as the nurses wheeled him into surgery in February, back when they first discovered the advanced cancer, he was asking about when he would get to return to work! And of course, he never did return. He is even to this day very concerned about my mom being taken care of after he passes away.

I know that all of his worrying does not show complete trust in our God, who is more faithful to meet our needs, but if I can help alleviate some of his concern in even this small way, I will do it. I want nothing more than for him to rid himself of the world's cares and focus his last moments on the One who takes care of His children in every circumstance. We are certainly not sufficient enough to provide the deeper needs of mankind; only Christ can fill us up and make us rich in Him!

All that aside, if you want to participate, here is the link to Suzanne's Pampered Chef site. They have a "new products" catalog for all you "seasoned" users (no pun intended, unless you own a stone!). I don't have a deadline as of yet, but I imagine by the end of next week. I'll provide that detail once I'm aware.

My favorite products (staples, really) include, the Large and Small Batter Bowls (gotta love the handle and spout), the Prep Bowl Set (I use them for everything), all of the different Scrapers, and of course, the Food Chopper (couldn't make sweet potato casserole without it!). I am definitely more of a baker than I am a cook, but I started collecting Pampered Chef shortly after college, and I'm so glad I did because we'd be eating Honey Bunches of Oats every night if I didn't have a few of these handy-dandy gadgets!

Absolutely NO pressure. I am firmly a person who refuses to give into pressure. This is simply an opportunity to give and to get at the same time. Prayers for our family continue to stand as the greatest single fountain of support we could receive from anyone.

I spoke with my dad again yesterday, on my way home from work. I couldn't actually understand much of what he was saying because his speech is slow and his words now slur. He cannot even hold the phone up to his ear by himself. Yet it was a blessed conversation! It felt like a burden lifted! We talked about Heaven and the resurrection, and prayer, and anticipation, and honor, and love, and hope, and all of the good things in between. No beating around the bush this time or keeping to lighter subjects with the goal of taking his his mind off his condition. Death is reality to him now. It's not a buzz word. I pray he begins to embrace it and long for it.

I hope I get another chance to continue our conversation this side of heaven, but we are holding on to daily victories at this point. For all of you who know my dad and even those who don't and live nearby, I'll post funeral arrangements whenever that may be. When it comes down to it, we are celebrating the continuation of his life! This is only the beginning! He even said so himself the other day while sharing and crying with his sister. To illustrate the length of this life in comparison to Eternity, he simply snapped his fingers. And just as soon as we snap our own, we will already be with him. Rejoice!!!

Maybe she'll take a tract?

There is this one lady who goes to our gym in the mornings. She's probably in her mid-50's, she works out in the women's room, and she always gets to the gym before we do. I normally like to use the women's room also, just because I'm not a fan of watching sweaty men workout, nor am I a fan of sweaty men watching sweaty ME work out.

Yet I refuse to join the lady in the women's room because of two things. First, she only wears a sports bra for a top. Now, I don't think that's right for a 20-year old, but remember, I said she's in her 50's??? And on top of that, she's got some wicked yoga moves that one just shouldn't have to subject oneself to! Jeromy was the first one to refer to her as "Belly Lady". I didn't start it.

The second reason I refuse to work out with her is because she watches the Lifetime channel nonstop! I mean at 6a.m. for crying out loud! Not my favorite way to fuel up my brain for the day! Yet I would feel like a criminal if I flipped the channel to the news. Even Beth Moore is on at that time!!!! This lady never talks to anyone, and always looks like she's glaring whenever anyone else is in "her" room. I suppose I could be making this up in my head, but I feel it's safer to just stay away and let her do her....thing.

I only use the woman's room for the hip abductor and hip adductor machines, and I tell ya, I struggle with those torturous 7 minutes, suffering through...all...the...drama!!! (Even the best of mp3 players can't make it disappear!) You see, on Lifetime movies the kids are always sickeningly sweet, the woman in the movie is more often than not mentally ill and is having an affair, the guy is usually an abusive alcoholic and is having several affairs (and is never the children's father), and the woman's mother is always some gossipy-stuck-in-the-80's-too-much-lipstick-and-talks-like-she's-got-more-
money-to-blow-at-the-country-club-than-Bill-Gates!

Oh I just love you, Lifetime! Especially at the crack of dawn and when I get to work out alongside an angry, half-dressed woman! I'd rather watch the sweaty men...

Pragmatism at it's best!

The world has its version of the Golden Rule. You know, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." As in Matthew 7:12, Mark 12:31, and Luke 6:31.

Well, I saw this rule in practice today, and it renewed my belief in people's genuine concern for the well being of others!

Um...yeah.

As I was driving northbound along Route 235 to work I watched a patrol car on the southbound road turn around and back into a side street to lie in wait for his prey. Immediately I had this instinct to flash my headlights at the oncoming cars to warn them of their potential fate so they wouldn't get nabbed this early in the morning. But then I decided against it, because I felt it would be cheating.

Just subsequent to this thought I noticed a woman in the vehicle directly behind me start to flash her lights. I mean she flashed every single car for at least the next mile! Part of me was like, "Oh that's so nice. I'd be grateful if I were driving south. There ought to be more citizens like that dear, sweet lady, who look out for their fellow-speeder!"

Because that's what I'd want somebody to do for me.

And then I hated her for making me feel icky, and reset the cruise control.

We will grieve with HOPE

Ok, I'm just going to write, and if the phone interrupts my concentration, so be it. I'm one of those writers who needs absolute peace and quiet in order to process and organize my thoughts. At my job I sit in a lonely little room at a computer all day (4 and 7 hour shifts) and hardly ever take advantage of this utmost potential blog time ever - simply because I still get flustered when the phone rings. Why get all into the "zone" if you're just going to suffer a heart attack because while you were blogging you forgot that you were still at work and not in La La Blog Land!

I've been stalking blogs all morning because I have not received one call in the last 4+ hours! I could have crafted a masterpiece within that time frame and even had time to edit, for pete's sake!

I digress...









No news from Minnesota. Jeromy and I spoke with my dad a couple nights ago, and he sounded really ill. We always hope for a conversation with some depth, but regardless of what might be going on in his heart, all we hear is the gloom-and-doom. Jeromy has offered several times, "You have a lot to look forward to, Gary." Meaning, that he is closer than ever to finally being with Christ and experiencing the glory of Heaven with His loved ones - including his parents whom he each led to the Lord on their own death beds! Sometimes he just kind of mumbles a reply of, "Yeah..." but during that last conversation all he said was, "Not in this life."

It breaks our hearts so much to see him hold on to this world, when we have known him to be such an openly spiritual man otherwise. This has got to be an immense test of faith for him, and it makes ourselves desire to get to that "place" of contentment and trust in God's plan long before we face death square in the eye like my dad is. We want to learn this resting in Christ now.

Our conversation ended, reluctantly, brief. The nurses had brought in my dad's supper, and that is the worst time of day for him. Lately his daily consumption has consisted of only a small dish of fruit. Last Friday my mom told us that he is expected to last a week, maybe two. Well, it is already Wednesday. My dad is days, perhaps hours, or even breaths away from Eternity.

All of this leaves me so, so torn. I am both anxious for the end of his suffering, and devastated for the imminent loss of my father.

I tried calling him this morning on the way to work but there was no answer. You know what that does to a functioning brain!! I'm sure he was just in the restroom or something. I'll try again later. I have not heard anything from my mom yet today, and she is super good about informing the family (the whole family) about, well, everything.

A couple years ago my dad heard Randy Alcorn speak on the radio. While driving a semi truck regionally for a living usually is wearisome, mundane, and monotonous, my dad was able to spend a lot of time listening to radio preachers and Christian programs most of us 9 to 5ers rarely get to tune into. Alcorn has become most popular for his book called, "Heaven". Dad got it for me for Christmas that year, and that is now kind of ironic. While I read snippets here and there, I didn't really pick up the book until just recently, at a time when the reality of Heaven is especially so close and comforting to our family. When I spent the two weeks in Minnesota last month, I desperately wanted to read him some exerpts from the book so to offer a more eternal perspective. I never did get the chance, although we did watch some of "The Blazing Center" DVD from Desiring God Ministires on Easter Sunday which, I think, significantly penetrated his spirit.

My family has been working on the plans for my dad's eventual memorial service. In his book, Alcorn sites many well-known preachers, including one from D.L. Moody that I would like to print on the cover of the service program:

"Some day you will read in the papers that D.L. Moody of East Northfield, is dead. Don't you believe a word of it! At that moment I shall be more alive than I am now..."

Hallelujah!!! Can we wrap our minds around this truth and live it out?!

"But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep" (I Thessalonians 4:13-14, ESV).

Jeromy and I have been working on another project for the service. While staying at my parents' house I went through all the pictures I could find of my dad's life and brought them back to Maryland so we could start scanning them and create a Power Point photo presentation to show at the service. I have picked out two songs to play simultaneously, and I think they fit very well. One is called "Closer to You" by Mark Schultz and the other, "I Commend My Soul" by Scott Krippayne. And, if there is time, I would also like to sprinkle a few relavent verses in between the songs.

I just want everyone present to celebrate and rejoice in my dad's Home-going. I also promise my dad that not one soul will leave the service without having heard the gospel and been given an opportunity to respond. There is absolutely no better way in which to honor my dad's Christ-following legacy than that.


CLOSER TO YOU (click to listen)

Closer to me
I'm tired and I'm weak
And every breath within me is longing just to be
Closer to You
So I face the road ahead
Cause I know there's no comparing
To what's waiting at the end

So let the rain start falling where it will
And I will run through this valley
Just to climb to that hill
And if they ask why I'm smiling
After all I've been through
It's cause I'm just a day closer to You

Closer to me
I hear You whisper on the wind
You say although my life is ending
A new one will begin
Closer to You
And I know I'm not alone
Cause I can hear You in the distance
Saying, you are nearly home

So let the rain start falling where it will
And I will run through this valley
Just to climb to that hill
And if they ask why I'm dancing
Though my days may be few
It's cause I'm just a day closer to You

Closer to me
You're in the laughter and the tears
Of the ones I leave behind me
Who have prayed me through the years
Closer to You
And I know it won't be long
Till You're running down the pathway
Just to take me in Your arms

So let the rain start falling where it will
And I will run through this valley
Just to climb to that hill
And if they ask why I'm singing
Though my life's almost through
It's cause I'm just a day closer
I'm just a day closer
I'm just a day closer to You


*****


I COMMEND MY SOUL (click to listen)

I commend my soul
Into your hands O God
Take all that I am
Take captive every thought
As I lay down my will
Make your mind my own
For all Eternity
I pledge myself to thee
I commend my soul

I commend my soul
Into your care O Lord
Bind this mortal flesh
That I may sin no more
If I am called to die
Prepare me Lord a home
As I go to the grave
My lips will praise your name
I commend my soul

I commend my soul
Into your Heaven's rest
And leave you now my own
To guide and to protect
And as I breathe my last
My spirit now is full
And looking toward the sky
I shout glory to Christ
I commend my soul

picture mania!!!

Ok, so I take long breaks in between blogging, but when I get back on the horse, I get back on the horse! Perhaps it could have something to do myself being the only one home in the evenings this week, who knows?

I often think of blog topics daily, but even more often wind up forgetting them. I really should try to capture my thoughts in a pocket notebook, so to avoid "blank page syndrome", the blog version to "writer's block". Although, this is the bride who used to carry a notebook everywhere, which worked great until she absentmindedly left the notebook, containing the exhaustive wedding gift "from list" on some shelf at Target, of all places! And of course, this was before any of the thank you notes got sent out!

Why is it that I do my best thinking while I'm either in the car, in the shower, or putting on makeup? Why not somewhere more practical, like, say, my desk at work or at our breakfast bar where I can write these things down?? For months I kept telling myself to go grab some Post-Its to keep in my bathroom so I could jot down my brilliant thought-of-the-moment before it could leave the building. For months I told myself this, but was apparently too lazy to walk the few short steps into the other room to fetch a pad and pen. So I just continued to forget things. I have since broken down and grabbed the Post-Its. Soooo hard! Now I'm not forgetting anything at the grocery store or any other store! Less trips means time spent, less gas burned.... Hey! The Post-It thing is kinda frugal if I do say so myself! And, it keeps my blog radar up!

I don't have much more of an update on my dad, only that he is weaker still and that eating has only become a worse source of frustration to him. Nobody knows for sure, but the end could very well be near. I last spoke with my dad two days ago, and it took him a while to form sentences, pausing a bit between each phrase. I am just numb.

I'd still like to share some pictures!




We needed a brother/sister shot with Dad, and baby Scarlett just happened to be in the picture as well. :)



Here is my brother Justin, his wife Bekka, and of course, Scarlett. This was the first time my dad got to see his grandaughter.
























The Spoiler! (Nevermind the room...the whole house was a makeshift disaster that week!)



A good photo of my mom and dad









Trying to be a macho dad (keyword: "trying")



If this continues, she'll be stealing the car keys and eloping somewhere in California by the time she turns 16!




Sleepy girl!







SO cute!








































While we were in Minnesota last month, my cousin Jason's wife Janelle gave birth to their first biological child, Malachi Elias. We were thrilled to get to see them and the baby, as we certainly did not plan on taking this trip, and the timing just happened to work out! Jason and Janelle also have 5 foster children that they hope to adopt. It looks like they have a great chance to adopt the oldest four, who are siblings, this Fall. They are Kalynn, Preston, Paul, and Anna. They received their youngest foster child, Amos, when he was just 8 days old, and a premie, at that! Pray for Amos, as some of his biological family has recently come forward with the desire to adopt him. Jason and Janelle consider Amos their son, and need the peace to trust the sovereignty and faithfulness of our great God. They want nothing more than for ALL of these children to grow up in godly homes and each come to know Christ.





The whole crew at the hospital, the day after Malachi's birth. One of the kids calls him "Baby Chi". I love that!
























Here we are holding our cousin-once-removed...or something like that. He's got his daddy's super long fingers (great for basketball and piano!) and toes (they call them his "finger toes"!). Good luck buying shoes for that little guy!



And here is the not so little fam at home! Jason and Janelle are our age! They have a lot of love to give, and must have a ton of patience! I love how Malachi looks like he's saluting in this picture. He's like, "I've resigned my only child status and submit to the easy-going lifestyle." How can he not?! He's only 2 weeks old and Janelle said he already sleeps 8 hours - that's more than his 4 month old brother!

Such a fun family!

in a fog

Is it Friday yet? I've been waking up the last two mornings in Friday-mode, and each time I would suddenly realize it wasn't Friday, and reluctantly put away the jeans...

I'm feeling sort of hum-drum this evening. It's a perfect day outside and I'm finally wearing capris, but here I sit and blog instead of enjoying the fresh, warm air. Go figure. My tan is even starting to look pretty good - thank you, Jergens! :)

Jeromy has been on work travel this whole week, and except for weekends, the upcoming two weeks as well. Am I basking in the clean house and all the [free] cereal I can eat for dinner? You bet! Yet it is a little melancholy without my Squeeze. I don't sleep as well at night without him. So maybe I feel hum-drum simply because I'm tired. And snuggle-deprived. Yet Jeromy still seems to find amazing ways to fill my love tank over the phone.

I'm looking for a good strawberry recipe. We have a fantastic farmer's market here in the county, and yesterday I picked up some red ripe strawberries, and this little mouse needs to make something out of them before the big hungry bear comes a prowlin'! The problem isn't finding a decent strawberry recipe. That's easy. The problem is choosing just one! I'm leaning towards a strawberry jello cake with chopped berries and a vanilla pudding-Cool Whip topping.

Hmm....maybe I'll have that tomorrow for dinner instead of Honey Bunches of Oats.

You know, I was just thinking. Our society plainly ruins things sometimes! Not that this is the first time I've noticed, but I was reminded this morning, when I started up the Allero in a gloriously dense fog. Literally; although, some mornings that is true in another sense, yet not so glorious.

The Christian radio automatically kicked on with the ignition and the first thing I heard was good ol' Mike Alley giving the latest morning traffic report on the WGTS morning show. Fog. Well, duh. It was more like a "be careful" warning than anything else. But what do I expect? I don't care if it's dry and sunny, that Baltimore/Capitol beltway is always a mess. And thank the Lord I don't have to drive it, regardless of the time of day!

It's not Mike's fault, or the beltway's fault, or the fog's fault, for that matter. Low clouds with limited visibility produces danger on the road. When fog is disregarded it doesn't take much to wind up in an accident.

But...doesn't that just seem like a waste? Why should the traffic report cause us to think negatively and even disgustedly towards such a wonder of God's creation, just becase of the inconvenience?

'Oh great, fog! Now I have to slow down. Now I'm going to be late to work!' Oh, the horror!!!!

This morning, I didn't give in to the highway pressure and drive like an animal just to be granted the utmost employee pleasure of turning on the copier machine. Not that I do that or anything. But I sometimes like to picture what these crazy drivers might be thinking as they weave and race and white-knuckle their steering wheels. An out-of-context phrase from a Daren Streblow bit comes to mind, "I wanna do invantory!!!!"

Who knows what they're really thinking about, but they certainly are not gazing out their windows, marveling at the portrait-like clouded landscape surrounding them, and especially not while worshiping with the Michael O'Brien piano ballad, "Before the Day."

This morning's Southern Maryland fog was just the thing to help me slow down and really take in the morning. I normally do not enjoy my commute. I really wish I used that half hour each way to send up prayers for others and to reflect on God's goodness and grace in my life. I wish I would pull my heart away from the world and myself to enjoy the scenery of the fields, barns, and ponds along they way. Perhaps I'm a little bitter for having to go into work so early instead of finding a good book and a sturdy tree trunk to lean up against during these most serene hours.

But God can still meet me on the freeway, and He proved that today. Something in the fog caused me to remember that "inclement weather" is just a term man came up with. God calls it "beauty". He said it was "good".

I say, it still is.

The song was just a bonus. All the Christian radio stations in the world play the same or other type of clip of some teenager testifying how amazing it is that the "right song seems to play at just the right time"! I always think that is kind of corny, just because every single song on Christian radio is Christ-centered and of course is going to speak to anyone's situation at any given time. Yet this morning I kind of caught a glimpse of what those teens are talking about. Just a simple truth my parched heart desperately needed.



Genesis 1, from "The Message"

1-2 First this: God created the Heavens and Earth—all you see, all you don't see. Earth was a soup of nothingness, a bottomless emptiness, an inky blackness. God's Spirit brooded like a bird above the watery abyss.

3-5 God spoke: "Light!"
And light appeared.
God saw that light was good
and separated light from dark.
God named the light Day,
he named the dark Night.
It was evening, it was morning—
Day One.

6-8 God spoke: "Sky! In the middle of the waters;
separate water from water!"
God made sky.
He separated the water under sky
from the water above sky.
And there it was:
he named sky the Heavens;
It was evening, it was morning—
Day Two.

9-10 God spoke: "Separate!
Water-beneath-Heaven, gather into one place;
Land, appear!"
And there it was.
God named the land Earth.
He named the pooled water Ocean.
God saw that it was good.

11-13 God spoke: "Earth, green up! Grow all varieties
of seed-bearing plants,
Every sort of fruit-bearing tree."
And there it was.
Earth produced green seed-bearing plants,
all varieties,
And fruit-bearing trees of all sorts.
God saw that it was good.
It was evening, it was morning—
Day Three.

14-15 God spoke: "Lights! Come out!
Shine in Heaven's sky!
Separate Day from Night.
Mark seasons and days and years,
Lights in Heaven's sky to give light to Earth."
And there it was.

16-19 God made two big lights, the larger
to take charge of Day,
The smaller to be in charge of Night;
and he made the stars.
God placed them in the heavenly sky
to light up Earth
And oversee Day and Night,
to separate light and dark.
God saw that it was good.
It was evening, it was morning—
Day Four.

20-23 God spoke: "Swarm, Ocean, with fish and all sea life!
Birds, fly through the sky over Earth!"
God created the huge whales,
all the swarm of life in the waters,
And every kind and species of flying birds.
God saw that it was good.
God blessed them: "Prosper! Reproduce! Fill Ocean!
Birds, reproduce on Earth!"
It was evening, it was morning—
Day Five.

24-25 God spoke: "Earth, generate life! Every sort and kind:
cattle and reptiles and wild animals—all kinds."
And there it was:
wild animals of every kind,
Cattle of all kinds, every sort of reptile and bug.
God saw that it was good.

26-28 God spoke: "Let us make human beings in our image, make them
reflecting our nature
So they can be responsible for the fish in the sea,
the birds in the air, the cattle,
And, yes, Earth itself,
and every animal that moves on the face of Earth."
God created human beings;
he created them godlike,
Reflecting God's nature.
He created them male and female.
God blessed them:
"Prosper! Reproduce! Fill Earth! Take charge!
Be responsible for fish in the sea and birds in the air,
for every living thing that moves on the face of Earth."

29-30 Then God said, "I've given you
every sort of seed-bearing plant on Earth
And every kind of fruit-bearing tree,
given them to you for food.
To all animals and all birds,
everything that moves and breathes,
I give whatever grows out of the ground for food."
And there it was.

31 God looked over everything he had made;
it was so good, so very good!
It was evening, it was morning—
Day Six.

1 Heaven and Earth were finished, down to the last detail.

2-4 By the seventh day
God had finished his work.
On the seventh day
he rested from all his work.
God blessed the seventh day.
He made it a Holy Day
Because on that day he rested from his work,
all the creating God had done.

This is the story of how it all started,
of Heaven and Earth when they were created.

Sharing more than "wealth"

A couple years ago when I was a nanny I stumbled upon the AnySoldier program website, and thought it would be a great project for myself and the kids! I especially wanted to teach them about war and our freedom, especially since they were boys who enjoyed playing "fighting" video games (and what boy doesn't!).

The boys wrote thank you cards for the recipient soldier, and helped me fill the package with toiletries and treats. In addition I wrote up a letter that included sharing my faith, and also purchased an inexpensive Walkman and made a few tapes of encouraging Christian songs. I couldn't believe you could still buy Walkmans these days, but it was a lot cheaper than going all out for a Discman!

All this was before my frugal days...and, unfortunately, well before my CVS awareness! With my present stash of free goodies, though, I could send out several care packages and pay only postage!

About a month and a half later we finally received an email reply from our soldier, Fred, who had been given the care package. The boys LOVED getting a reply. Hearing from a real live soldier stationed in Afghanistan made this project seem less like a project and more real-life.

Fred and I continued to correspond, and he began asking some serious questions about spiritual things. Surprised by his own inquiries, as he is extremely skeptical by nature, Fred seemed genuinely curious, opening up a little bit more with each exchange of emails.

Eventually Fred became a believer all the way out there in the "sandbox", as he regularly referred to his location. Even today I am floored by the means God chooses by which to call His elect. Who would have thought our project would extend as far as a soul finding Christ?!

Well I became an AnySoldier junkie after that! When my pocket book began to suffer, I quit sending full-fledged care packages but kept sending letters. It was like I had found my own secret little ministry!

Hopefully the day will come when we won't have any soldiers overseas with care package needs!!! But since we do, we might as well take advantage of the opportunity to bless and encourage these military men and women. These people are far away from our capitalistic, consumerist society, and since they are surrounded every day by the reality of death, their hearts tend to grow soft and more open to the gospel!

Some time after our email exchange, Fred surprised us with a folded American flag which had been flown over Afghanistan in our honor! Complete with a certificate with my name! That was definitely one of the most thoughtful gifts I have received!

*A little bit of irony, the creator and founder of AnySoldier, Brian Horn, is originally from LaPlata, Maryland, just a jaunt up the road from where we live in California, Maryland! But when I first heard of the program, I was living in Minnesota!


"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another" (John 13:34-35, ESV).