Posted in Lessons from Life

Saturday night will always be one of the highlights of my life.  My son BJ was honored as a member of the 2005 Class of Eagle Scouts for our council.  This was the biggest event that is held on a council level, as everyone wants to honor the young men who achieved the rank of Eagle in a really big way.

The evening started with an incredible meal, the best one that I have ever seen at any Scouting function.  If I ever complain about the food at these things again, just remind me of the Eagle dinner!  There was shrimp, crabmeat, fancy meatballs, sausages, crabcakes, stuffed mushrooms, chicken shish-kabobs with a really wonderful sauce, fresh fruit with CHOCOLATE to dip it in, cream puffs, cheesecake, and tons of other delicacies.  YUM!

After this came the ceremony.  I didn't know ahead of time, but out of an Eagle Class of 127, he was asked to do the opening!  It was truly an honor for him to stand in front of the entire crowd and lead everyone in the Pledge, Scout Oath, Promise, and Law.  As the Star-Spangled Banner was being sung by an incredibly gifted acapella group of young men, there were fireworks and colored smoke on stage in front of a HUGE American flag. And there stood my son...it was a moment to make any mom proud!

Each Eagle Scout was escorted to the stage and introduced by his sponsor, and there was a PowerPoint presentation and music to go along with this part of the program.  BJ was introduced by his sponsor, and a picture appeared on the screen with his name, troop number, sponsor's name, and pictures, too!  It sent chills up my spine! 

The guest speaker was Maj. Gen. Bolten, one of the space shuttle astronauts.  He spoke on giving back to others, and talked about how those who are given much should give much to others, too.  The boys had a chance to talk with him and have pictures taken. 

At the very end, they had the entire group repeat the Eagle Scout Promise again, and then the acapella group sang the Scout Oath.  It was a pretty impressive evening, and made all these hard years of work in Scouting so worth it all. I don't think BJ's graduation ceremony could possibly affect me as much as this ceremony did.  You know how they talk about "Kodak moments"?  Well, this would, in my case, more aptly be called a "Kleenex moment." :-)

As soon as I can get BJ to help me figure out how to download the pictures from my camera, I'll post some for you to see. 

Posted in Lessons from Life

I read a great quote the other day. It really struck me for several reasons. Now mind you, I am not an Agatha Christie fan; I don't really like mysteries. But the quote is great regardless. She said, "I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to BE alive is a grand thing."

This says so much, and reflects so much of what I have felt the past several years. I love living. I really, truly love life. But yes, I have been "wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable." This comes when I focus on the external things, such as the thermostat set lower than what I would like and I am cold, when the cupboards look so terribly empty, or when I look in the mirror and long to go to the beauty salon or the shopping mall. It happens when I get distraught over not being able to purchase gifts for people at Christmas and birthdays, and when I want to help others, and can't. Most of all it happens when I let myself think that my hands are tied...that there is nothing I can do about our situation.

 
"Racked with sorrow..." Yes, there has been sorrow. I have mourned the loss of a lifestyle, and the friends that were attached to it, who I found out must never have really been friends at all. We have sorrowed over the loss of Mike's job, which we had always taken for granted. Watching my dad's health problems hit him one after another after another this past year has brought many tears. And nothing will ever give more meaning to the words "racked with sorrow" than helplessly watching my daughter hold her own precious baby, my granddaughter, as she died at the age of 10 days.

"But through it all..." This part of the quote really caught my eye, because, as you can see, it is the name I chose for my blog. The song "Through It All" has such great meaning for me now, much more than it ever did in the past. How can you truly understand that God does indeed carry His children through it all, until you have BEEN through it all? Only then can you testify to the truth of that belief. I have certainly had to learn to trust in Jesus, and learn to trust in God, just as the chorus of that great old hymn so eloquently states.

And, yes, "I still know quite certainly that just to BE alive is a grand thing." Somedays, when times are tough, I forget, and those are the days that are the bad days. Those are the days that I wallow in self-pity and look back instead of looking at today and all the tomorrows that lie ahead. That type of attitude just takes me back to being miserable and sorrowful once again.

I believe that God wants more from me than that. He wants me to seize each day as a precious gift and a new opportunity----to live each day to the fullest and find the treasures of TODAY. On the days that I do this, I am filled with joy, and realize once again that "just to BE alive" is true gift that we are to cherish and celebrate.

Oh, Lord, help me to wake up each day and proclaim to myself and to my world that the gift of another day of life, regardless of outward circumstances, is truly a grand thing!

Posted in Lessons from Life

Last week I was watching television with my 17 year old son.  Even with him being this age, we really are careful about what we view on TV.  In fact, until the holidays I watched very little.  I was shocked once again last week at how much our culture has allowed immorality to creep into our living rooms. 

As a child in the 50's and 60's, I remember my mother making us cover our faces when the Playtex Living Bra commercials came on.  Apparently, she didn't know that I was peeking between my fingers, because I remember that commercial well.  How shocking!  A penciled drawing showed the design of a bra.  That was it---no woman, no bare flesh, not even a model of a woman.  Just a penciled drawing of a bra. 

And then, after The Lucy Show, married couples were seen sleeping in the same bed.  That was it.  Just sleeping.  Or perhaps turning off an alarm clock or fluffing a pillow.  If things got really racy, you might see them kiss each other good night, on the cheek of course. 

So how and when did things change so that in just a few hours, my son saw:

• A fully naked woman sitting backwards on a chair, with her legs straddling the back of the chair?  This was on a SciFi show that I had used to love in its first incarnation---Battlestar Galactica. 
• A young high school student admitting that he was not interested in a young girl who had been murdered, because he had a boyfriend.  This was on a neat new crime show that I had liked...until then---InJustice. 
• A high school boy taking a bath with a college girl. And this was on my favorite new SciFi show---Invasion!  How COULD they ruin this show for me?

I could certainly go on, as I am sure most of the rest of you could.  But this was in just 2 hours of TiVo'ing through some shows we wanted to sit and relax and enjoy.  What if we watched TV regularly, and DIDN'T monitor the shows we watch carefully?  Heaven knows what we would have seen then!

I try to think back, and remember when this all happened.  The problem is, it was all so subtle.  It happened so slowly.  The people who are trying to undermine the morals of this country are patient.  They are willing to take whatever time it takes to make us immune to the changes they are making. We become accustomed to more and more risque behavior, language, and video scenes.  Just bit by bit, our morals are changing in America. 

As a child, I would never have believed that these things would one day be seen on TV's all across this great land of ours.  I would have thought that someone would have stood up and put a stop to it all, long before it got to this point.  But the Enemy is so cunning, and so patient.  He lets us think that just one little thing is ok, and then another, until finally we have gotten to where we are today. 

Will it never end?  Oh, for a return to innocence...

Posted in Lessons from Life

Why is it that times of financial upheaval tend to bring out the worst in us, instead of the best? I hate to admit that I have not been the best of wives or mothers lately. During the American Revolution, Thomas Paine once wrote, "These are the times that try men's souls." These last few years have certainly tried ours...

One thing that I have found, to my own shame, is that I constantly find myself wanting things the way they used to be, instead of finding the joys that are in the present. In times like this, I need to focus on today instead of yesterday, and look for the pleasures of each and every new day. It is easy to focus on the bad, as it seems to surround us. However, each day is a gift that God has given us, and how sad He must be when we don't take that gift from His hands in gratitude, tear open the wrappings, and look for the good things that are hidden inside.

Today I did just that. I refused to look at the yesterdays except with gratitude for the memories they have given me and the lessons they have taught me. Instead, I took today, and thanked God for this gift. It took some work to unwrap this day, and dig through all the packaging to find the good things that were hidden deep down in the box. But I found them!

Today brought some special moments. A package from my brother contained three photos of me with my Daddy, taken when I was a toddler. What a smile they brought to my face! On many days, I would have looked at those same pictures and thought to myself, "Why can't we still live like that? Why can't I still be living the way I did as a child, and all through the rest of our marriage?" Instead, I chose to focus on the fact that one of today's gifts was a thoughtful brother who took time to send me some happy memories, and thereby reassure me of his love for his big sister.

Another special gift was a repaired tape recorder. Sad to say, I whined and complained last night when I couldn't play a cassette tape, as all of our tape players were broken, and we had never been able to repair any of them. I was mean, and grouchy, and ugly. All of that because I wanted to listen to a tape. Sounds rather childish when I think back on it. My husband came downstairs with a very old tape player this morning, and said, "Here, look! I fixed this one for you!" What a gift to know that despite my ugliness, my husband cared enough about my wanting to listen to that tape, that he took time to fix that old tape player for me. Another gift of love.

Other gifts today were:

• A bowl of beef and noodles made from the cooked beef we rescued from the freezer the other night when it thawed everything out as it died. They tasted SO GOOD!
• A beautiful email from a lady on the PPROM Pregnancy email list, telling me what a wonderful mom and grandma I am, and asking me to write to her own mother. That warmed my heart as much as the noodles warmed my tummy!
• A large order from a customer, along with an email telling how much she loves to do business with me, and that she will be telling all her friends about me. That gave me the gift of hope for the future.
• A lively, ornery Black Lab named Camp. My faithful friend of over 14 years has been really bad this winter, but today he was as frisky as can be. It brought a smile to my face to see him acting like a pup again with our younger dog. Maybe he'll be a gift I get to keep a bit longer than I had thought???
• A piece of blueberry pie that BJ and I found on sale at a ridiculously low price at the grocery last night, and it is absolutely the largest blueberry pie I have ever seen in my life. What a blessing to have something that we normally could never have put in our cart. Yum!
• A box of candy from my daughter and granddaughter. They picked them out bulk one by one, just the right fillings, just for me.
• An offer of more hours at work from my other daughter. Even though I can't do it, her thoughtfulness in offering the extra hours to me before hiring someone else shows she cares about our situation.
• Sitting here in my neatly arranged library/office. My son and his wife cleaned and sorted it, and moved an old love seat into over Christmas when they were home. They knew how much I love this room, and they fixed it up as a small sanctuary for me. Just sitting here reminds me of their love.

I am so thankful that I chose to accept the simple things that God gave me today, and find joy in them. It is far better than mourning over all the yesterdays of life. Today still finds us in circumstances that try men's souls. But today, I am in hopes that when God tried my soul, He found that I had stood up to the trials in a way that made Him proud to be my Father.

Posted in Lessons from Life

One of the homeschool chat boards that I spend a lot of time visiting had a Christmas Secret Sister drawing. I haven't been a part of one of these for years and years, and it sounded like so much fun that I just had to be a part of it. The email came with the name of my own secret sister, complete with a list of all of her hobbies, favorite colors and foods and candies, collections, fragrances, etc. It was so much fun to shop for her and send her package off, knowing that she would have so much fun opening all of her surprises.

I never really thought much about what "my" secret sister would send me. Christmas is much more about giving than getting for me. I just LOVE to shop and find just the right gift for people, and to watch their face as they open the wrapping. This year, and the past several years, Christmas has been *different* at our house. With very little income compared to all the rest of our lives, I didn't get to experience the joy of giving as we had in the past. That hurt much more than not receiving a gift. Much more...

What made Christmas even harder for me these difficult years is the fact that my mom---my best friend---was dying during Christmas season exactly ten years ago. Mom was "Little Miss Merry Christmas," as we used to call her. Like me, she loved to make Christmas wonderful for all of those around her. And did she ever know how to decorate, cook incredible holiday feasts, and make a festive holiday! I miss her so badly at Christmas time that it actually physically hurts sometimes. I want her back here celebrating Christmas with me like we always did. Perhaps a part of me thinks that if she were still here, she could help me pull off a *real* Christmas without a dime.

As I sat moping about how sad and lonely Christmas had been these past several years, Mike brought in a package from the mailbox. It was my gift from my secret sister! I opened the box, and inside were beautifully wrapped gifts---six of them! I "ooooo"ed and "aaahhh"ed over each gift.

Then I came to the last one. Like the others, the beautiful wrapping and bows reminded me of my mom, and it was a bittersweet feeling. Imagine my surprise to open the wrapping and find a large bag of miniature Almond Joy candy bars! That same week ten years ago, the absolute only thing my mother would eat was miniature Almond Joy bars. I can't tell you how many times my sons and I would run to the kitchen to get her "just one more."

That simple gift of candy bars brought back such wonderfully happy memories, you just can't imagine. It reminded me of a mom, who despite horrific pain and suffering, and the knowledge that she would never see another Christmas, made that last Christmas the happiest any of our family had ever known because of her love for the day, and for the meaning of the season, and because of her selfless giving.

I had listed in the email that was to be sent to my secret sister that I loved chocolate---any kind would do :-) For her to have picked miniature Almond Joy bars was a God thing, for she could have had no way of knowing what that bag of candy would mean to me, her secret sister, and how it would change my entire outlook on this year's Christmas.

Thank you, Lord, for tidings of comfort and (Almond) Joy this Christmas season!

Posted in Lessons from Life

It is such a beautiful snowy day today. Everything just glistens now that the sun has come out at long last. There is nothing better than looking out the window and finding the ground covered in a white, sparkling blanket. Makes me want to burst into a chorus of "Walking in a Winter Wonderland."

How I wish that my heart and my soul were as pure and white as this new-fallen snow! I have been so full of anger, bitterness, and hostility lately, that I am certain that in God's eyes, my heart and soul are burdened and black, as if with a heavy load of coal. I am so thankful that Jesus stands before me and covers the blackness, and makes it appear as white as the view out my window today.

I long to put this burden down at Jesus' feet, and let Him keep this load of feelings that I have carried around for far too long. Yet each time I do, I grab them back again, thinking that somehow the anger and bitterness, and isolating myself from others, will somehow make me feel better and protect me from further hurt.

I feel like a traveler who went out in the middle of the blowing snowstorm that brought today's beautiful sights. I slid off the road, became stuck in a drift, and can't get out. Now I keep looking for someone to help me out, but no one comes. Thinking about it, I realize that I am looking for help in people, a job, enough money, health, and other worldly things--for life to go the way I think it should go. They cannot and will not help me out of the spiritual snowbank I am spinning my tires in.

Only when I realize that the very One Who created the storm is the only One who can rescue me from it will I be free to travel again. Only then will I be unencumbered by the weight and darkness of a sinful attitude and no longer spinning my tires in the rut that I have made for myself.

I know that He is right here beside me, just waiting for me to allow Him to help. He has been there all the time, through all the storms of my life, waiting and watching, longing for me to ask Him for His help. Why do I look for help from others who pass by, and not accept His persistent offers to rescue me?

Dear Lord, on this beautiful snowy day, help me to realize that my life can be transformed. Like last night's nasty storm, it, too, can be transformed into today's glorious beauty. Please take the storms of my life, and make them into a beautiful and peaceful new day, all sparkling and white in the Son...

Posted in Lessons from Life

With my dad's recent health troubles, I was reminded of a time once before when we nearly lost our precious Daddy. It was in the spring nearly 20 years ago, and he actually did die twice following a terrible accident in which his truck was hit by a driver who ran a stop sign. Dad was ejected from the car, went through the windshield, and landed on the pavement of the road just a couple miles down the road. A broken rib sliced the main artery in his diaphragm, and he entered surgery with a blood pressure of zero, after coding twice.

Thank God that He saw fit to work a miracle and let us have all these extra years with Dad! At that time, I wrote and submitted an entry from my journal, that I had revised just a bit, to "The Best Dad in the World" contest, and it was the winner and was published in our local paper. I wanted to share it with all of my readers so they can see what kind of a man they are praying for as he goes through this current health crisis.

I'm so glad that I thought to dig this out, as it gives me a chance to show my kids a bit of family history along with reminding them of what a wonderful man their grandpa is. And it's also a reminder to me, and hopefully to all of you---write down these precious family memories and journal your thoughts as you go through the ups and downs of life. It's a wonderful way to leave a legacy for your children and grandchildren.

Our Daddy

Not often are we given a second chance to say the things that have gone unsaid throughout the years---feelings and thoughts that have been in our hearts all along, but never given voice. It is only through a miracle of God's love, and the prayers of the hundreds of people who know and love our father, that he is with us this Father's Day. With love and pride, we nominate him---Robert A. Rickenbacher---as the Best Dad of the Year.

One month ago, Dad was involved in a tragic traffic accident, which nearly took him from us: days and days in intensive care; sudden massive internal bleeding; emergency surgery with the odds very much against us; days and nights in an ICU lounge with nothing to do but wait...pray...and think...

As the nurses readied Dad for surgery, the three of us clung together outside his room. Karen, in tears, said, "That's our Daddy!" Those words, and what they meant to each of us, were in each of our thoughts in the hours and days ahead.

Our Daddy---always so very proud of each of us and our accomplishments. We have always known how much we are loved, and that he would do anything for us. He's always been there when we needed him. How thankful we are that his grandchildren will grow up with his love, too.

Our Daddy---He's worked so hard all these years to provide a good life for us, both on the farm he dearly loves, and in the factories, which he hated. Despite his hatred of the factories, he was always one of the hardest-working men there, doing much more than was expected of him. Dad knows the meaning of the word "work." His own father died when Dad was only 10 years old, in the middle of the Depression. He never had a chance to just "be a kid." He's had to work hard all his life---first for his mother and sisters, and now for us. And never have we heard him complain. What a wonderful example of diligence and taking pride in a job well done he has been to all who know him.

Our Daddy---always helping others, and putting their needs first. He has helped so many people through the years---family, friends, neighbors, church and community. Everyone knows they can depend on him, and that his word is good. He always thinks the best of everyone, and never speaks a word against a person. He is a true friend, well-loved by many, many people. Dad's eyes get misty as he looks at the piles and piles of get-well cards surrounding him. He waves his hand toward them and says, "This is what makes a man truly rich." We have learned from him that friendship is to be valued far more than earthly riches, to have friends you must first be one, and to give of yourself.

Our Daddy---setting us an example of a deep faith in God. Throughout his life he has been very active in his chruch. He has served as chairman of trustees and traveled on a mission trip to Haiti to help build a church. It was Dad's faith that helped sustain us all through the events of the past month. When on a respirator, and unable to speak, he often wrote the word "PRAY" on his notepad. He has taught us to lead godly lives, and to depend on the power of prayer.

Our Daddy---teaching us to be optimistic and make the best of any situation. We've grown up hearing the stories of how Dad's family made it through the Depression years. Dad always tells the story with a feeling of love, pride, and accomplishment, never with a spirit of bitterness or complaint. He thrives on trying to make a hopeless situation better. We will never forget seeing Dad wheeled to surgery, surrounded by doctors, nurses, respirator, monitors, and 20 IV bags. We were so afraid! But as we looked at Dad, what did we see but Dad giving us all a "thumbs up" sign. Even at the point of death, he was optimistic and encouraging US. What a lesson in positive thinking, and what a gesture of love.

Our Daddy---We've always loved you, admired you, and respected you; and we're so proud of the fact that everone in our community loves, admires. and respects you, too. We've always been thankful for all you've done for us through the years. And we're proud othat you're OUR Daddy---the best dad around. We thank God that we have you with us this Father's Day and that we were given this second chance to say all that's in our hearts.

Posted in Lessons from Life

I shared in a previous post (see "A Real War" in my recent posts list) about my wonderful Dad and his sisters, who just recently shared with BJ and I about life during WWII. It was an incredible lesson for BJ to learn about life on the homefront from those who had lived through it. Although those who served overseas with the Armed Forces certainly deserve our gratitude for all they did for us, so do the men who were not allowed to serve in this way---men like my Dad.

Dad was classified as being in a necessary occupation, and not permitted to enlist by his local draft board. His own daddy died when he was only 10 years old, and as the only son during the Depression years, missed more school than he attended, in order to keep the family farm going, and to keep the bills paid and food on the table for his mom and three sisters. This made him the man of the family at a very young age, and he most definitely was seen as the man of the home and of the farm by our local draft board, who realized that a farm in those days could not run without a man around to run it.

Upon his high school graduation in 1941, nearly all of his friends enlisted, and my dad wanted to serve his country just as they did. Then he received the news that the draft board considered farming a necessary occupation, and since there was not a man in the house to continue to milk the cows, take care of the rest of the livestock, and raise and harvest the crops, they considered him a necessary worker on the homefront. As he watched his friends and cousins all go off to either the Eurpean or the Pacific front, the guilt set in, and it remains until this day.

Dad still has letters from his friends, and along with them, the stories that the survivors told him. And he carries with him the knowledge that his best friend, Lieu Baker, died a week or so after the end of the war on a small island in the Pacific that had not yet heard about the peace treaty being signed. He feels that he should have died, and not Lieu. He worries still that people think badly of him for being one of the few that did not fight for our country. He feels that his life was much more expendible than that of others who lost their lives.

Several times he begged the draft board to change his classification so that he could enlist and join his friends on those bloody beachheads. But each time, they refused and told him to stay on the farm, and help feed our country and our soldiers. I have read the refusal letters signed by now long dead neighbors who served on our draft board. As Dad shows them to me, he always has tears running down his cheeks as he tells me yet again about what a brilliant and popular boy his friend Lieu was, and how unfair it was for him to die, after the war was over, while he himself sat at home and plowed, planted, and harvested the crops, and tended to the livestock--feeding, butchering, milking, and selling.

He considers what he did as unimportant, as a coward's way out of one of the greatest conflicts of our time. Every Veteran's Day makes this incredible 82 year old man sorry that he was not able to have served his country. And it brings back the many memories of the letters from friends, the talks to them while they were home, and the stories they told all these years since of the horrors they faced. He feels that he should have been there right along with them---guilt and inferiority still rise to the surface in his thoughts of those days.

If Dad feels this way, I am certain that there are many others around this country of ours who feel just as he does. Many, many people were in what were considered necessary occupations here on the homefront, and could not be spared for active military duty. This was not their choice, but the choice of other more objective minds. It was not a choice of cowards who were not willing to fight and perhaps die for their country. It was a choice of their country to have them stay at home and help serve in another way. Yet because of this, these wonderful men, like my dad, have lived out their lives thinking that theirs was a job less worthy of praise, and less honorable, and that it was a "choice" made for them that makes them, in their own minds, less of a man and less of a patriot.

I want everyone to know that I am just as proud of my dad for serving his country as any daughter of a veteran on this Veteran's Day. When I think of how hard it was for him to stay at home with his mom and sisters, after his graduation at the age of 17 when all the other boys were enlisting, and do the job he was told was necessary, instead of running off and somehow sneaking into the army, I admire him for what he did. When I think of how he helped take care of many of the neighbor families whose sons were overseas, and how he became the whole little community's "adopted son," caring for families whose own sons were "over there," I admire him for what he did. And when I see him tearfully tell the tales of his friends and relatives who served overseas, I admire him for what he did, and for his great humility in feeling that their lives were of more value than his own.

It couldn't have been easy to stay behind when everyone else was joining up. It couldn't have been easy to read the letters and know that some of his friends would never come home, while he was here and safe. It couldn't have been easy living a life with a community of women, old men, and young boys, and be able to hold his head high. It couldn't have been easy to hear that his best friend died, when he felt that he should have been in his place.

But my dad was just as brave, and just as much a patriot as those who wore a uniform, and just as worthy of our country's praise and eternal gratitude. He did what his country asked him to do, even though, in his own eyes, it brought him shame. He helped to feed a country and an army, to keep the country's farming economy strong, and helped a community that had very few young men to do the things that young men do. And he helped support, in many ways, the mothers, fathers, and wives and children of his many friends who did serve in the way he wished that he could have served.

If you know of men who are in the "greatest generation," yet did not serve in the armed forces, stop and think about them this Veteran's Day. Chances are they are like my dad, and served in other ways that our government ordered them to serve. They are no less worthy of a big hug and a big thank you this day than those who wore a uniform, yet they themselves think they are far less worthy of a person, especially today. Please take today to remember all of these now elderly men, who still feel they did not serve their country well, and hug them and thank them for what they did, and tell them how proud you are of them! For they, too, served their country well...

Posted in Lessons from Life

I am a person who does not like change. Once I find a spot in life where I am comfortable, I want to continue to savor it forever and not move on. Don't tread on tradition or the way things have always been done!  My brother is much the same. He will bluntly say, "I don't go for change!"

But whether I like it or not, changes are taking place at a very rapid pace in our family. Call it the "Nearly Empty Nest Stage," the "Mature Stage," or the "My Body Doesn't Work the Way It Used to Stage," it is all rolled into one for me right now. And I don't much like any of them!

For years now I have heard other mothers talk about how they simply couldn't wait for their children to all be grown and on their own. They wanted to have a life of their own again, and time to spend alone with their husbands. They make it sound like a grand adventure.

But for me, at least right now, even a nearly empty nest is a phase of life I am not yet prepared to face. BJ is 17, and will be with us for at least a year yet, but soon he, like the others, will be off and on his own. And this Mom wants her babies back in the nest! How I miss each of them.

Just yesterday I sat watching old videos of concerts, ball games, track meets, musicals, Scout activities, holidays, and just everyday life around the house when all of the kids were still at home. What wonderful days those were, and how fast they flew by. I took such joy in being actively involved in each and every activitiy of all of my children. It seems impossible that the only way I can still feel like a real Mommy is by watching video tapes of days gone by....

Then there is this "mature" thing. I am becoming the older generations. In this moment of time, that means that I am the oldest living woman on my Mom's side of the family. And on Dad's side, I see him suddenly as an old man. The series of health problems has had make him seem so much older than he was a year ago at this time....much more than a year older. Being this age means that I will soon lose him, and become a 50-something-year-old orphan. I don't think I will ever be ready to deal with that. "Maturity" seems to mean losing everyone you have loved one by one....

And that brings us to "my body doesn't work the way it used to anymore" problems. I can't see or hear as well as I once did, and the arthritis in my knee makes me get in and out of the tub in ways you truly would not want to see! Since my shattered leg experience, I can't run. My granddaughter says that my skin "moves in waves" when she tries to play at putting makeup on Granny. And there is a pear-shaped bulge where my stomach used to lie so nice and flat....

None of this is NORMAL. And I want life to go back to being normal. But deep in my heart, I realize that will never happen. The normal I knew and loved is a part of my past now, never to return.

Our family has listened to Focus on the Family's Adventures in Odyssey since the first episode aired. We are the proud owner of every set that has ever come out, and listen to them again and again. Mr. Whitaker, the main character, and the wisest man in the city of Odyssey, once spoke with a troubled little girl about what was normal. He told her that she would have to find a "new kind of normal."

That is the phase I am in now. Trying to find what that "new kind of normal" is. I have no idea yet what it will be. I don't like where I am now, and hope that the new normal is just around the bend, and that I will find it laying there, waiting for me to find it. And of course, I want to find it tomorrow...

Please, God, help me to find a "new kind of normal" in my life. Help me to accept all the changes that come with growing older and becoming a "mature" woman. Help me to hold fast to the memories and love them, but not so much that I stay in the past and refuse to move on to what lies just beyone the next bend. You know that I don't like change, so You'll have to help me get used to this new stage of life. Most of all, help me to be able to accept what you have in store for the rest of my life, and the realization that whatever it is, it is in Your perfect will for my life....

Posted in Lessons from Life

When our oldest daughter, Jennifer, was two, she had not just one, but two, imaginary friends, quite creatively named "Boy" and "Girl."  She went nowhere, and did nothing, without her special friends.  Afterall, how good a friend could an infant sister be?  All she did was cry!  And Jennifer felt she HAD to have a friend...more than one friend!  So off we would go to church, ballgames, family gatherings, or the grocery store with Boy and Girl, as well as Jen's baby sister Chelle. 

I vividly remember, as does my husband, one drive home from church.  As we neared home, Jennifer started screaming at the top of her lungs, "Stop the car!  Stop the car!"  We had no idea what was wrong, but with the intensity of her screams, Mike immediately pulled off to the side of the road and calmed her down enough to find out what was going on.

"We have to go back!  Boy and Girl aren't in the car!  We left them at church!" she cried.  By this time she was shaking with sobs.  She was so distraught to think that she had forgotten to be sure her special friends were in the car with us. 

Now Daddy did NOT want to drive all the way back to church, and tried to convince Jennifer that her friends were in the car, and had just been hiding.  She didn't fall for that line for even a second.  "No, we have to go back and get them," she continued to cry. 

Mike then became more creative, because he truly did not want to turn that car around.  So the next thing he said was, "Look over there!  Who's that running across the field?  I think it's Boy and Girl!" He said it with all the enthusiasm he could muster. Then he got out of the car and yelled to them to hurry up, to run a bit faster and get over to the car.  He "helped" them into the car, and even buckled their seatbelts for them.  Finally little Jennifer was satisfied, and spent the rest of the drive telling Boy and Girl how naughty they were to have not come with us to start with, and then to have run off in search of us on their own. 

I remembered this story last night when Mike asked me if I was talking to my imaginary friends again.  He insists on calling the friends I have made on homeschool chat boards, email lists, and this blog site "imaginary friends."  But just as Boy and Girl were so real to my little Jennifer, my internet friends are very real to me.  I share in their lives---their joys and their sorrows and everything in between.  And I believe most of them feel the same about me. 

This in turn led me to wonder how many of my non-Christian friends feel that God is also an imaginary friend.  You can no more see Him than we could see Boy and Girl, or than I can see my internet friends.  So it would be easy to see why they would look on my Lord as imaginary and not real. 

How can I show them that God is indeed real in my life?  I can show people how much He means to me as Jennifer did with Boy and Girl, and as I can show my husband how much my internet friends mean to me.  I can talk to God all the time, as Jennifer talked to her little friends, and as I do my cyber-friends.  I could see that in their special relationship, Boy and Girl talked back to Jennifer, and my unseen friends respond to me---both verbally and through actions that show they care.  I can let my friends see that God, indeed, responds to my prayers in many ways. 

I hope that people can see that I love and care for my Lord and Savior as much as---no, MORE THAN--Jennifer cared for her imaginary friends, and I care for my grown-up imaginary friends. 

Lord, help me to know the right ways to show people how very real you are to me....

Posted in Lessons from Life

BJ had his first speeding ticket about 6 weeks ago, and we had to go to CarTeens last night. We had already done the court appearance thing, and he was fined $35 plus costs, and sentenced to attend CarTeens. CareTeens is a program put on by the county 4-H, and is to re-educate teen drivers who have had tickets, and attendance at it is always a mandatory sentence in our county for juvenile traffic offenders.

BJ was upset as soon as he got the ticket, and I mean REALLY upset. I can still hear the tone of voice when he pulled into a parking lot to phone me and tell me what had happened. His voice shook, and you could hear the tears that he was trying to hold back. It scared me to death, because I knew that tone of voice. Something was wrong, and I knew it before he said another word. Of course, my first thought was an accident and that he had been hurt. Each of my older three kids had been in near fatal or fatality accidents (one my oldest dd's fault, the other 2 were other drivers running stop signs), and each and every time that BJ is out on the road, I pray that his guardian angels are surrounding him.

He realized quickly that he had a mom on the phone who was near hysterical. Once he assured me that he was fine, he told me what had happened. He had turned from a side street onto the main drag by the mall in the nearest city (most of you would probably think it a small town) and said that everyone was driving like "crazy people." He felt that he had to keep with the flow to be safe. Within seconds of turning the corner, he saw the dreaded flashing lights in his rear view mirror. When the officer pulled him over, the two cars in front of him also stopped, thinking they were the ones being pulled over. Guilty conscience, do you suppose? They obviously knew they had been speeding, too.

But being the good boy that he is, BJ stayed put, and the other 2 took off. What jerks to leave a poor kid there to face the music alone when they were partly responsible! Was he ever scared! Now he is afraid that he'll make some tiny little "oops" and lose his license, which he needs so badly for all the travel he has to do for OA and Scouts. His new position this year requires him to travel all over the western half of the state. He knows he shouldn't have been speeding, but was afraid that he would get rammed by the other cars if he didn't go at least the speed of the slower ones on either side of him. Tough decision, and unfortunately he made the wrong one.

CarTeens was yet another scary experience for us both. A trooper was there, and had just been to 2 fatality accidents in our area that same afternoon and early evening before coming to do his presentation. One involved 4 teens who had tried to flee the officer and ended up hitting a huge landmark stone, and then wrapping themselves around a tree. 2 were dead on the scene, one life flighted in grave condition, and the other "just" transported to the local hospital. The other accident was within miles of our home, and involved 2 teens, both of whom were killed.

Oh, man...when that officer told about all his experiences of going up to the door to tell parents that their teen had been killed in a wreck made me nearly lose it in front of all those people! I can't even imagine....

Most of the kids were very affected by all the talk and stories. But there was one boy there who was a real smart alek. I predict he will be one whose parents get an awful knock on the door one night, or if not that, will be the cause of a knock at someone else's door. He already had been in court 3 times, before getting his license, for nasty offenses. So that was before the age of 15 1/2! Then he had a reckless and wanton destruction of property by motor vehicle charge one week, and a speeding (88 in a 55) ticket the very next week, which were the offenses that led him to his CarTeen sentence last night. And there he was, laughing and making jokes with the officers, and razzing the other kids about how and why they got their tickets. What a BRAT!!!

Hoping that this doesn't happen again soon, or ever! And praying that I am never that parent who has a trooper on her front doorstep.

Posted in Lessons from Life

As I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, bemoaning the fact that I could do absolutely nothing with my hair, I remembered a day long ago. One of my daughters, who was then only two years old, was sitting in the bathtub getting herself “nice and clean” for Sunday School and church. I was in the exact same place as I was today, in front of the mirror. But on that day, a day that I will never forget, I stood weeping as I surveyed my hair.

The day before I had gone to the beauty salon for a perm. It was the most awful perm I had ever seen on anyone, and it was all the worse because it was done to MY hair! I tried to do something, anything to make my hair look respectable for church that morning, but the more I brushed, the more hair broke off about an inch from my scalp, and landed in the bathroom sink. The bigger the pile of hair became, the more tears streamed down my face, until I finally became hysterical. What was I going to do? How could I leave the house and have people see me looking this way?

Little Chelle, always so wise for her years, looked at me with puzzled, worried eyes. I could see that she was trying the best she could to figure out just what was wrong with Mommy that could make her cry so inconsolably. Finally, her little face lit up, and with a huge smile she said, “Mommy, don’t worry. You’re beautiful even if you ARE ugly!” And her wet little body jumped out of the tub, and the dripping wet arms gave me a much-needed hug. I didn’t know whether to laugh, or to cry even harder, for my little darling had told me I was indeed ugly. But the important thing was this---she told in the infinite wisdom of a two-year-old that I was beautiful to her, and with her little arms wrapped around me, I knew I was loved in spite of the ugliness. In her eyes, Mommy could never be ugly.

I can still hear those words of wisdom today, and they say even more to me now than they did nearly 26 years ago. Today they remind me of a Heavenly Father who loves us, and sees us as beautiful, even though we are ugly. Though stained with sin, and made ugly by our self-will, He sees us as beautiful. In our Father’s eyes, we will always be “beautiful even if we ARE ugly,” all because of Jesus. And wrapped in His arms, we know we are loved….

Thank you, Chelle, for a lesson this Mommy will never forget!

Posted in Lessons from Life

Throughout the years of raising our children to adulthood, there have been four goals that we have focused on, each of which has a strong Scriptural foundation. Love of family, hard work, self-sacrificial love, and doing what is right, regardless of consequences, are our top priorities as a family and in our education. When God judges our schooling efforts, I do not believe He will think it of any great or lasting significance that my children had high ACT scores, were awarded college scholarships, or even that they made honor roll grades. He will look at the things that are of eternal value.

This past year allowed us the opportunity to see how two of our children measured up on our “spiritual report card.” My daughter Chelle began a long, arduous journey to motherhood last September; her pregnancy was difficult from the start. In order for her to remain stress-free, and off her feet as much as possible, my youngest son and I agreed to help run her newly-formed business. Little did he realize that those few weeks would turn into over seven months of exhausting work.

Chelle, in the meantime, was facing her own challenges. After a near miscarriage, she continued to be quite ill, and at 21 weeks, she was admitted to the hospital with preterm premature rupture of the membranes (pprom). A steady stream of doctors and interns marched into her room. The situation was hopeless, they told her. Induce abortion, they said, because there is less than a 1% chance of delivering a live child, and if the child lives, “it” won't be "anything you want to take home."

She calmly told each of them that she would not take her child’s life, and then put herself on complete bedrest for the next 8 weeks, against the advice of every doctor who consulted with her. We spent countless hours on the internet researching pprom pregnancies, and Chelle followed every suggestion. The high-risk pregnancy nursing staff grew to love and admire her for her faith and determination. As her brother worked, she lay in bed, reading her Bible and praying. Each day we could see Chelle grow in God’s grace; I have never seen her so serene and so calm.

Week 29 arrived, and little Ellora arrived in this world, not only alive and well, but breathing on her own, with an APGAR score of 9! How we rejoiced; the doctors and nurses celebrated our little miracle along with us.

BJ and Chelle were passing the course, but the final exam was yet to come, for little Ellora contracted a killer bacteria that took her from us in four short hours. I watched as my incredibly strong daughter held her 10-day-old child in her arms, and courageously handed Ellora back into the arms of the One Who had given her to us. The funeral was a glorious tribute to a tiny 2 ½ pound baby girl who had forever changed our lives. By this time, Chelle and Ellora’s story had spread via prayer chains around the world, and their indomitable will to survive helped other mothers decide to continue problem pregnancies, and gave them the knowledge to do so.

I was so proud of both of my children; they had both passed the final exam with flying colors, and without a single word of complaint or self-pity. BJ had put family first by helping to keep his sister’s business from failing, and had excelled in the hard work category by putting in many 12-hour days. His self-sacrifice meant the end of his personal dream of graduating a year early, and he did the right thing, regardless of what others thought.

By ignoring the advice of dozens of doctors, and doing what she knew to be right, Chelle was able to know and love her daughter Ellora for ten glorious days. She put family first, as Ellora was her first child, the firstfruit of her dream for a large family. Hard work? Try lying flat in bed for over eight weeks and see how easy it is! Lastly, the self-sacrificial love she showed her unborn child, often at the risk of her own life, put the nurses in awe of her remarkable faith in God, and of her courage.

The lessons taught were lessons learned, and they were tested in the fire. Both BJ and Chelle received all A’s on the report card that really counts, the one with eternal rewards… Could any mother be more proud?

Posted in Lessons from Life

This blog entry was chosen as the "Blogger's Choice" winner in HSB's Juggling with Hamster's writing contest, and will be featured in Jane Bullivant's new book, "Juggling with Hamsters-Raising Amazing Kids Without Chasing Your Tail." It will be in the chapter about being a true winner.  Her book will be released next year, and I'll be sure to let you know when it is available. Thank you so much to everyone who voted for my story about my amazing son, BJ, who is indeed a true winner.

Through It All

In my mind's eye, I can still see the little boy who stood in the middle of the hospital lobby reciting poetry, with wide blue eyes and his little-boy lisp, to an adoring audience of elderly cancer patients. Most were graduates of one-room schoolhouses, and had learned many of these same poems themselves. This little boy, my youngest son BJ, was as at home on the local cancer floor as he was in our living room, since the first months of homeschooling first grade were spent at the hospital helping care for my mother, who was dying of kidney cancer.

What a little trooper he was, never knowing from day to day whether his classroom would be our living room, the chemo lounge, the radiation center, Grandma's lovely home, or a hospital floor. Each day he was surrounded by the very sick and dying. And each day he entertained them all with his reading and recitations. How those people looked forward to seeing a child that young being taught in the same way they had been taught in those little red brick schoolhouses of their childhood.

His grandmother's pain was relieved for a time as she sat there just being proud of this special little boy who was always at her side. She took such joy in introducing him and showing him off to everyone. As a retired elementary schoolteacher, she would often help in his daily lessons.

Even at the age of 7, BJ learned about life and death, compassion, kindness, joy in the midst of great sorrow, how to relate to those who are ill, and how to be there when someone needs you. He was the best medicine many of those patients had each day, for he made them think of better days and better times in their lives, and tapped into long forgotten memories. He brought them joy.

He was there as his grandmother passed from this world into heaven. He will always remember that he was the last person that she spoke to, and remember the special bond they had, because he was able to be there, through it all .....

Through it all meant many things in our years of homeschooling. BJ was homeschooled on my sickbed, in our car, at the home of a family friend who had very ill children, and in so many other unusual situations, both good and bad.

It seemed so fitting that these last two years of BJ's schooling are ending much as they began. As he gave up his dream of graduating early, he was helping his sister realize her dream of helping her baby survive a pregnancy fraught with problems. When she was admitted to the hospital for complete bedrest, he helped to run her business. He learned to run a business, to work harder than most adults, and the meaning of self-sacrificial love.

His niece Ellora was born and made it all worthwhile for 10 all-too-short days before her sudden, unexpected death. And BJ was there for his sister as she handed her child from her own arms into the arms of Jesus.

This fall finds my son busy planning on how to keep his 82-year-old grandfather, who was diagnosed with lung cancer, busy through the fall this year. He plans to take him deer hunting as they have done every year, and to make sure that they both continue playing on the church dartball team. Grandpa is the most important person in his life, and I know that BJ will be there through it all for him, as he has been for so many others.

You might ask if his schooling has suffered. Perhaps, in the traditional sense. But in the areas that will help him succeed in life, he is far ahead of his peers. BJ has proven himself a leader and a doer.

Where did he learn these skills? He learned them while entertaining dying cancer patients, helping a sick mother, spending months helping a sick family, spending hours in the car to help with the family business, helping to bring a niece into this world through his self-sacrificial love for his sister and helping her cope with this precious child’s death, and by helping his elderly grandfather to continue to live life to the fullest. He learned to be the incredible young man he is today because with homeschooling, he could be there...through it all…

“Through it all…I’ve learned to trust in God”

Posted in Lessons from Life

As I start my blogging adventure, I feel that I must start by paying tribute to two very important people in my life, who are no longer with me--my mother, who was also my very best friend, and Ellora Faye, my precious little granddaughter, whose journey on this earth was much too short for those of us who loved her. Tonight I will make an entry in honor of my mother, and tomorrow I will make an entry in honor of my granddaughter.

It is fall once again, just as it was nine years ago. My mother had fought off two forms of cancer, a blood cancer that affected her platelet count, and colon cancer. In mid-summer of that year, she was declared cancer free with the colon cancer, and was assured that the blood cancer was something that was controllable....that she would die of old age long before the cancer would cause her problems. She had also had two very dangerous eye surgeries that were risky and extremely painful, and a heart problem which had her in CCU and resulted in a pacemaker implant.

"Through it all," Mom never complained, and kept living life to its fullest. I never saw her cry or feel sorry for herself. Nor did she complain or rally against God that final fall, as the leaves fell, turning the fall to winter not only in the world around us, but also in her life. For it was then that she discovered that she had developed yet another entirely new cancer, totally unrelated to the first two cancers. The odds against that happening were astronomical. And this was kidney cancer, the "silent killer," because it normally was in stage 4 at the time of diagnosis, as it was with my mom. The entire family was in a state of shock.

I had previously written a poem that she loved. After her death in January, I tweaked the poem, so that it became "her" poem. It was read at her funeral and hangs in the church now.

It seems that many of my poems are about trees. This was originally written about an old tree in our front yard, one that my grandmother had planted with my grandfather years ago. It had been twisted inside by a tornado, and over the course of years, had struggled to survive, just as did my mother. Mom loved this poem, and it was a source of inspiration to her in her last days.

Mom, I dedicate my blog to you and to little Ellora. You both will always be a part of me. The lessons you taught me will help me to be a better person, and a better servant of our Lord. For this I will always be grateful. And many of the stories I share will include you, as so much of our homeschooling revolved around your illnesses and death.  So your faith, courage, and love of life, will help countless others as they face the valleys in their own lives.

A Final Fall of Leaves

by Kathy L. Kin

Dedicated to Marjorie A. Rickenbacher 12/5/21-1/22/96

     There is a tree in my front yard;

     My grandmother said it is called a Heavenly Tree.

     Through the years, first she, then my father,

     And now my children and I have enjoyed its beauty.

     Its long and fruitful life have stemmed from an inner strength,

          Given by God, its Creator.

     That strength has enabled the tree to weather many a storm.  

     A violent tornado destoyed many of its neighbors, and weakened it. 

     Yet my tree has fought back through each trial,

     And every spring it again bursts forth with a glorious crown of leaves.

     Its beauty is an inner beauty that can only have been

          Given by God, its Creator.

     Everything on this earth is here but for a season,  

     And the tree has lived through its spring and summer.

     That beautiful crown of leaves grows smaller each year.

     Now all nature watches as, one by one, each leaf drops from the tree.

     Yet still the old tree's weary, dying branches reach ever heavenward,

          Toward God, its Creator.

     These last years the tree has fought and struggled to survive.

     I have steadfastly refused to part with it,

          To say goodbye,

               Because I love it.  

                    But now it is time....

     The tree has stood through the winter;

     And now I must let my tree, that beautiful Heavenly Tree, leave me.

     Yet it has given me lessons in life that will continue to guide me,

          Given by God, its Creator.

     As with the tree, so it has been with your life, Momma.

     You have been like that Heavenly Tree to me.

     Your fruitful life has stemmed from an inner strength.

     You have weathered many a storm, yet fought to survive.

     You have taught me lessons in life that will continue to guide me.

     You have inspired me through the years

          With your beauty of spirit,

               Your joy for life,

                    And your gift of giving strength, courage, hope, and faith to others.

     Even through this final fall of leaves,

     Your heart has reached ever heavenward

          Toward God, your Creator, Whom you have served so well.

     I love you, Momma.... Goodbye, until we meet again.

Copyright 1996 Kathy L. Kin