forgiven

The other day Spencer was waiting in their alley to be picked up to play with a friend. He came inside and said, "Dang it!"
Terra, "What's wrong, Spencer."
Spencer, "I've been trying and trying to throw a rock to the moon and I can't even get it across the road!"
Terra, "Even the strongest person in the world couldn't get a rock to the moon."
Spencer, "Who would that be? Superman? Batman? Spiderman?"
Isn't that how we are with God? We try and try to be all we're meant to be but it's like throwing a rock to the moon. We're all far from perfect but God makes up the rest because of Christ.

Giving

Karen told me the other day she and Nathan were deciding what to give to Heifer International, an organization that you can buy a heifer, sheep, ducks or whatever to give to a family in an underdeveloped country. They asked Kate if she would like to give some out of her piggy bank.
She replied thoughtfully, "Well, I've been saving in my piggy bank for a long time.
I was saving to buy you and Daddy a house in Hawaii."

Heaven

Since the funeral Michael has been asking questions about Heaven. When I was there the other day, he and I were laying on their deck playing with leaves and a gooey substance he'd just got at the store.
"Oma, are you old?"
"I'm getting that way, Michael. Do I look old?"
"Yeah, your cheeks."
"You mean the wrinkles."
"Yeah."
Pause
"Oma, when you go to heaven, will you meet me there?"
"Yes, Michael, I will."

You'll Be Fine.

When Kate was littler, maybe 1 year old, I began to notice the unique way Nathan dealt with her tears. Whether it was a fit or fear or just for attention he would calmly and confidently say, “You’ll be fine.”
I wrote those words on my bulletin board by my bathroom sink to remind me that in the middle of my tears (my fits, fears or just for attention) I could hear the words, “You’ll be fine.”
Today, as I’m disassembling my bathroom for Kim and Chad to tile I took those words down. Today, they seem to fit my need to say about Mom, “You’ll be fine.” And she will be. No matter what. And so will I.

Pray for Mom

 

 
 
 
 

 
 
 

At His Feet

It seems like my whole life I have struggled with gaining peace of mind. I have always struggled with faith, with depression, anxiety and just being able to be happy. The scripture in the lectionary this week is about a woman who fell at the feet of Jesus and begged him for help. It seems like I've always been there. The good news is that Jesus has always been there. Most of the testimonies I have to share are about those moments. Like this morning. I've felt anxious and unsettled and just tired lately. I've even struggled to know how to have my quiet time with God. And this morning I sat at the piano and decided to just play a bit. I eventually turned to one of my favorite hymns and decided to meditate on it. John Greenleaf Whittier wrote it.

Dear Lord and God of humankind, Forgive our feverish ways;
Restore to us our rightful mind, In purer lives thy ways to find.
In deeper reverence Praise.
In simple trust like thiers, who heard beside the Syrian sea
The gracious calling of the Lord, Let us, like them, without a word,
rise up and follow thee.
Oh Sabbath rest by Galilee! O calm of hills above!
Where Jesus knelt to share with thee the silence of eternity, Interpreted by love.
Drop thy still dews of quietness till all our striving cease;
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess the beauty of thy peace.
Breathe through the heat of our desire they coolness and thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
Speak through the earthquake, wind and fire, O still small voice of calm!

I hope heaven's joy will be not having the strife but just the peace.
I can't imagine what my life would be without the ability to throw myself at the feet of Jesus - without scripture, testimonies, camps, my church family.
It's now 8:am and I'm ready to meet this day with peace and joy.

 

 

 
 
 
 

Weddings

I was just sending pictures to Keely of she and Bryan's wedding. It was a perfect wedding! Except for the parts that were not perfect like the cold and the wind. But that part drew us together, gathering in jackets over pretty dresses, huddling together around the fire, laughing, dancing. It was perfect!
It's almost our wedding anniversary - 38 years on the 15th of August. Ours was a perfect wedding too. Except for the parts that were not perfect and I'm finding it harder and harder to remember those. I walked down the isle hating walking down the isle with everyone staring at me. My hands were shaking so bad that Terry had a hard time putting my ring on. Terry thought he'd forgotten his pants and drove home to get them only to find out John had them on! We met before the wedding for prayer with Terry's Dad. Terry kissed me good morning while I was asleep on the bunk bed in the family room the day of the wedding. I listened intently to each word Terry's Dad (who married us) said. Very meaningful to me at the time. Madelyn Farley sang two songs. "O Perfect Love" was one of them. We walked out to, "With a Steadfast Faith together Let us walk." So many people came to the wedding. By the time the greeting line at the reception at the Cardwell Gym was through there was no grooms cake left. Red Velvet Cake especially for Terry. I remember the Ball family came from Billings and that meant so much. Mostly I remember being happy and peaceful because I still had that Spirit from attending reunion the week before with Terry. And I loved that my family and Terry's got along well and were loving to each other. I especially loved the relationship Terry's Mom and mine had. Terry's Mom made beautiful flowers with baby's breath she found growing wild near the ranch. Grandpa Carroll Sacry bought beautiful long white flowers for the front.
Dad had a cut on his head from bumping into something at work. Terry's Mom had a swollen lip from a cold sore she got. I had five on my lip. It was perfect.
We've had a perfect marriage. Except for the part that wasn't perfect. We probably got married for the wrong reasons. Sometimes we had to work awfully hard to make things right. Sometimes I could find alot more wrong about us than right. Sometimes I wondered if I'd made a mistake. I couldn't figure out how to work out the problems we have faced. But we did. And now it's perfect. Except for... Actually, now it is perfect. I love everything about Terry. And I love that we can be angry at each other and not hold resentment or ill will against each other. How we can love each other so deeply and still want to punch each other. I love our wrinkled, fatter faces. When I lay in bed watching him sleep I find myself adoring his snoring, whiskery face. When he looses his temper I ask myself what has hurt his feelings, not what I can say back to him. I love being quiet yet comfortable with him. I love that I can tell him what I'm feeling and he doesn't try to fix me. I love that he has become the perfect lover, and also my very best friend. I love that he leads me spiritually, but he doesn't criticize me when I don't want to go to church or I tell him some way out idea about God. I love that he defends me. He thinks I'm beautiful and tells me almost every day. (sometimes I look in the mirror and realize he's hopelessly in love with me and that's making him blind!)
I hope God gives me 38 more years of this life with him. But I think some of those years will probably be lived on the other side where it is going to be perfect...
Hmmmmmm. I wonder what perfect will mean there.

thewhitehallreiffs@blogspot.com

 
 
 
 

Close

Susan, Dad and Brian just drove off to take Susan to the airport. I am a better person after I've been with Susan. I feel so thankful.
She and I were discussing why we have a close family. We love to be together. We keep connected whenever possible. My siblings are some of my favorite people.
In raising my own I asked myself often what my parents did to create that love.
In my opinion, these are some of the reasons:
FAITH - We were raised with faith. Mom's faith was the most important thing to her. Faith was first, we were second. In his own way, Dad had faith. Our grandparents valued their faith above all else. At least twice a week we went to church together. One of those times each week, being in the small living room of Grandpa and Grandma Sacry. We prayed and testified together (or fell asleep) If anything came up we prayed about it.
BEAUTY - We were surrounded by beauty. We were outside more than inside, together where we saw God's creation often.
LACK OF WEALTH - This is not true. We were wealthy, but not in the way most people think of it. I know Dad and Mom had stresses about money and it made their relationship hard sometimes but seldom were we included in that. Material things were not valued. We knew happiness without lots of possessions so we knew it wasn't something to strive for except if it brought us closer together.
We also were blessed because we had to stay in the same bedrooms, share one small bathroom between many people (yes, we did argue over it!)There weren't toys, clothes, etc to argue over. We creatively made our own activities together.
WEALTH - We had plenty to eat. We even had to help acquire it by milking cows (ok, so I personally did not ever milk a cow but the boys did.) We shucked peas, snapped beans, made meals. We had the wealth of each other and our land. We were surrounded by people who loved us and were commited to us. We believed we were loved by God and were taught God's law. We were taught right from wrong. As we got older, we knew Mom and Dad couldn't give us any money for college so some worked hard to get there. Or we helped each other financially.
BLESSED - I read that the way children feel the most confidence is when they feel they are a blessing to their parents. I think Mom and Dad made us feel like they were lucky to have us. We were their best blessing. Mom never said she couldn't wait for us to go back to school. I believed my parents wanted us around. Children were the greatest gift to them and to those extended family we were around. We knew it.
Of course, there were exceptions to all of these reasons and, anyone who knows us knows we are full of flaws. But we do love each other deeply and dearly. I know it is one of my greatest blessings. Today, especially, I feel thankful.

Big Grandma

Until I was 6 years old I was given the gift of a Grandma we called, "Big Grandma." She was my Grandpa Carroll Sacry's mother, Mazzie. I never saw her out of bed. She lived with Grandpa and Grandma Sacry in their home where Grandma Sacry (Cora) took care of her. I grew up believing she had muscular dystrophy but Grandma Cora told me she broke her knee and would never try to walk again after that. She lived in the biggest bedroom in the Ranch house. There was a swinging door/window cut out of her bedroom so Grandma could put a pot outside after Grandma had used it. We loved to climb in and out of it. By her bed was a small bookshelf where she kept dates among other things. I loved to come into her room and sit on her bed and visit. She would give me dates which I still love. It was Big Grandma who drew all the scenery pictures many of us have in our homes. She drew with pastels. She would give me small pieces of pastel paper and some pieces of pastel chalk and let me sit on the floor and paint. I remember her telling me to draw and then rub the colors with my fingers. It was the rubbing that was important she said. I would sit with my feet behind me, knees forward on my bottom and draw.
Big Grandma's bedroom was another place in my life where I felt so welcomed. Now that I am a grandma I realize how I was probably a treat in the life of an old woman who was confined to her bed. But, as a pre-school child, I only knew I loved to be there. And so did my friend, Debbie Hemund. After Grandma died, Debbie came to the door of Grandma's room and exclaimed, "Grandma just disapeed!"
When I was 6 years old Mom held my hands and told me that Big Grandma had died. I remember crying and crying. And then it seemed to be over. I'm sure I missed her but I remember being surprised at how good I felt after I finished crying.
I am told Grandma never said an unkind word about anyone. The story is that once everyone was sitting around talking about someone who seemed to have no good qualities. Grandma just listened and then defiently spoke, "Well he sure could fiddle!" Growing up with that story I determined to be the same way. I'm afraid I have failed but it is a goal worth striving for. Grandma Josie Pyfer said and lived, "Never criticize anyone unless you've walked in their shoes for one mile."
We were not a family who spent much time talking about others. Instead there was laughter and fun. Happy Mothers Day Mazie! Thanks for the gift.

Important

I am thinking about a phrase I heard when I was trying to do my best with 4 little ones. I read somewhere, "Put aside urgent things and do important things." My first thought was, "You've got to be kidding!" I was probably on my way to rescue one of my little ones from getting burned by the stove or something that urgent! Or maybe I just thought being to church on time was urgent. (ridiculous!) That phrase has come back to stop me so many times. Important. What is important?
Nancy Sacry would say important is taking time to give you a cup of tea even when she is late for an appointment. I believe no matter when I stopped in her home she would take time for me. I have trusted that on more than one occasion. She has not let me down.
Mom would say there is always time to play a game of cards with one of her children or grandchildren or Terry and I. And she can do it with laughter and a light heart.
Grandma Pyfer said by her actions that important was sitting with an open and accepting attitude, listening, no matter what was being shared or who was sharing it.
To Grandma Cora important was taking time to visit the "old" people in town. This consumed so much of her time when she was 80-96 years old.
For me, I began to realize it was more important to let a dirty shirt stay on my child if disturbing that child to change a shirt showed I cared more about her or him than the people I was trying to impress. ( I still can't leave a dirty face! For me clean faces are important!)
I don't know how young mothers and fathers decide what is important when they both work, both need time to themselves, both need quality time with each of their children and their spouse, both want to give to their church, community, other relatives. It's a daunting thought. But I think some are truly trying and I take my hat off to them. That's so important!

Preschool memories

During my preschool years, maybe I was 3,4 or maybe 5 we lived at the bottom of the road up to the ranch, where the road meets the paved highway now. Our home was a very large white house. Mom told me the other day she could see outside from the inside in some spots. She and Dad's bedroom was right off the living room but the rest of us slept on the second floor. In the wintertime there was no heat upstairs. When it was time for bed we would get up our courage and then dash up the 20 or so stairs and climb quickly under the stack of covers, warm and snug with our siblings. I remember complaining about going to bed but the fun of the run and the snuggle.
Outside of that home, across a rutted driveway was a large very old house. Maybe my parents could tell me what it was and why it was there. I only know we called it "haunted." I stood by our house staring at it but I don't believe I ever entered its scary inside in spite being teased for my fear. It was unpainted, darker wood with no window pains and probably no doors that hooked.
In the front of the house toward the highway (which was not a highway then) was a long sidewalk starting from the wood porch and ending at a huge ant pile. I loved that ant pile and would sit and watch it for a long time. If one of my siblings wanted to break it up I would not have it. I was its protector. It was about a foot high and very fasinating.
My other memory of that place was the day we made our own homemade slide down the 5 or 6 steps off the front porch. We used an old board as our slide. My memory is of lying across Mom's lap, face down as she dug the large splinter out of my behind with a needle.
That house was there a long time after we moved up to the ranch again. Sometime, when I was married and gone from home, it was torn down along with the haunted house and replaced with corrals. I wish I had a picture of it outside of my mind.

Honesty

Over 25 years ago, when we lived in Mississippi I was parked at the clinic where Terry worked. I jumped into the car and put it in reverse without my foot on the brake. I rolled into a car - terry's partner's car. It didn't hit very hard and I thought nothing was wrong. Later Darel told me that it had cost him - I think he said $300 to fix. When he said it I apologized but did not offer to pay the fee. He let it go. I didn't think more of it. But as I've gotten older I've realized how wrong it was.
A few years ago I was in Billings on a Women of Faith trip with a bunch of gals and I was getting out of the truck with the other women. The wind was blowing hard and it caught my door and my door hit the car next to mine. I was in a hurry to catch up with the other ladies. I rubbed the car I'd hit to see what damage was done very quickly. I noticed the nick and tiny dent but did nothing else and went on in.
When I returned to my truck there was a note on my car with a phone number to call. They had my license and wanted me to make amends. It was one of those sports cars and he said it was new and he wanted to repair the dent. I felt terrible then that I hadn't taken the time to right my wrong. I turned it in to our insurance and got it covered. I vowed to myself to be more careful.
Since that time I have opened the car door probably 3 times on other cars. Each time I cringe, be sure it's not dented but each time I have left a little mark = a nick. I've never left my number or acknowledged it in any way.
Recently, because of a friend who was honest about something like this, I was made aware of my own dishonesty in this area. I think of myself as an honest person and yet I continue to do this without being responsible for my actions.
I had a dream this morning that I don't want to go into but I woke up realizing that I have a problem in this area. In analyzing, I realize I need to take accountability somehow to change this kind of action. This is how I plan to do it.
1. On a practical level I want to wait 5 seconds before I open the car door. I want to walk to the car slowly and notice the tires, who is next to me - to just look around.
2. One reason I think I've done this is because I am so caught up in my own world that I don't take the time to notice the physical concerns of others. Since, in the past I didn't value cars and other "things" as much as emotional, spiritual things I did not even think it mattered. This comes from bad theology that separates out some things as spiritual, others as physical. In reality, all things are spiritual and important to God.
3. I want to live in the present. I am so often in my head instead of where I am at in reality. I miss alot of life.
4. I am embarassed to be accountable over and over to people whose cars I nick. And, of course, I don't want my insurance to go up. I will never nick a car again without writing a note to leave.
5. I am writing in my blog because I need others to hold me accountable. I've had years of this habit so I want to change and can't do it alone. If you are reading this, please be gentle, but if you are with me and I do something dishonest, tell me.

Spencer

I am in Philly this week getting a huge grandchildren fix. Terra and Zach's family have "Family Home Evenings" on Mondays. Each person has a responsibility to do their part. Rachel lead the opening song (waving arms and all). Anna said a prayer. Spencer had the lesson. Terra and Zach invited me to help Spencer come up with a lesson so I asked him if he wanted to tell about Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. I said, "You could pretend to be Jesus." He acted kind of negative about it and I thought maybe he just didn't want to do the feet washing thing so I said, "Would you rather do another story like David and Goliath or Daniel and the Lion's Den?" He said, "I want to wash everybody's feet, but NO ONE should be Jesus. He's the only One." Properly chastised, I told him he could wash the feet and no one would be Jesus. I wondered how he would do since he was pretty tired, had been sick with an ear infection, etc. But when our turn came I asked him to tell about people's feet back in Jesus time. He spoke right up, though somewhat shyly, "Mostly they wore sandals so they had dirt and dust on their feet - and toe jam. (He had told me earlier in the week how he had to clean the toe jam out of his toes most nights.) Servants washed their feet but Jesus put on an apron and washed his disciples feet." So we washed everyone's feet, him washing and me drying. It was absolutely precious, especially when he washed Zach's feet. Anna and Rachel loved it too. Then I told about since Jesus served us, we should serve others.
Then Spencer asked each person, "Who serves you, Mom?" (Anna, Rachel, etc.) It was a very precious time to me. It reminded me of times in my life when my own children were so close to God, so trusting in their faith and sensitive to God's Spirit that they taught me.

God's family

Tonight Terra called to tell us her Rachel had fallen, broken her front teeth and possibly fractured her gums. As I write this they are at a hospital with the triage nurse. She will have surgery after midnight. We are waiting to hear more. Ken, Mom, Dad, Jim, Nancy, Terry and I were finishing up an evening of dinner and we stopped for a minute to pray for Rachel and her family, the doctors, etc.
This afternoon I was talking with Susan on the phone. In her preparation for Brody's blessing she was realizing once again how important her church family had always been in their life. How different and difficult our lives would have been without our church families. It got me to thinking...
The first thing that came to mind was when Nathan was sick with croup. When we took him to the doctor that day the doctor told us if he got any worse to bring him right to the emergency room. He was about 8 or 9 months old. It seemed in the evening he was getting worse. But it was hard to tell. We started to go and then we decided to first call Terry's Dad and another Elder to come and administer to him. They came and Nathan began to recover.
Or the time Terry and I administered to Jamie when he had torn his urethra and the next morning he was ok.
Or how our church family in Urbana were the first to arrive when our 2 boys were born, loving them instantly and supporting us with showers, babysitting, holding and playing with them.
Every time we moved to a new town the first thing we did was contact the church people. We instantly had a family no matter how far away from our blood relatives we were. And it was our church family who we went to in times of trouble or shared our times of joy with us.
Don Bowman told me how our church family here met to pray while I was in surgery for my brain tumor. How they worried and grieved and prayed when it took so long, praying for Terry, knowing how he felt.
This year at reunion we're celebrating the sacraments. The sacraments are opportunities in the many phases of our lives to make those times special, holy and beautiful. Like the blessing of a child, committment of our lives to God in baptism, marriage, ordination for leadership, evangelists blessing and administration to the sick. Times when we can acknowledge God's presence and trust God for our future and know God's love for those we love.
I don't know how people get through the hard times without a church family. This blog is not long enough to put down all the times we were supported by people of faith from all over the world.
And though Terra's church is different than mine by name, she and Zach and their family are finding that same support as friends from their church take care of Spencer and Anna. An elder from their church will do the surgery. (My first 2 obgyns were members from our church and I still remember important things they shared that still help me.) People from their church will pray for them. It brings me peace to know that support is there for them. And it reminds me again why so much of my time and energy is spent giving to my church. That circle of love is stronger than anything on earth. I want to be a part of opening that cirle to extend to all God's children on earth.

Easter

Why do we get up before dark and make our way to the Ranch early on Easter Morning? When I woke up this Easter I was grumpy and not really wanting to get up. But it was one of our nicer Sunrise services: great weather (ok, so it was 22 degrees but it was sunny and no wind!) a perfect spot that Brenda's family calls the Rock Chuck place; a well planned service with a band to accompany us as we sang. Practically everyone who came (we always have extras) had a reading to do. The Volzes had a fire going and little orange flags to direct our path over the hill. The Gayle Sacrys had done the planning and it was well done. All that wouldn't have meant much except that it seemed that every reading was just what I needed to renew my faith and put my negative spirit back into the right place. A person I was angry with came up to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Another help with my attitude.
Easter is my favorite holiday. No, I don't like the eggs, bunnies, pretty dresses, easter egg hunt (ok, I do like the egg hunt) but I hate anything that distracts me from what Easter really is. God came to earth and was like us, died for us and gave us hope for eternity. I'd like to write about the Easter of 2004. The worst and the best Easter I've ever had.
A week before Easter Grandma Cora fell when trying to grab a door handle. She broke her hip (I think) and had to have surgery. Something happened during the surgery and she was never the same. We spent the rest of that week taking turns being with her in the hospital. But I don't think she really knew we were there. She thrashed and moaned and struggled all week. During one of my turns with her I thought how people had sung hymns or read scriptures to their loved ones when they were near death and it calmed them. That didn't work for her. We held her hands and tried so hard to comfort her but nothing seemed to work. The best way I can describe her was "distressed." I can't remember how long I was with her but it was one of the worst times in my life.
I never felt so helpless in that way. Finally Gayle had her taken to his home and tried to keep her comfortable. One of the few times she was quiet was when Glada Ann washed her hair. If my memory serves me right she passed away in the middle of the night before Easter morning. That Easter morning I laid in my bed and cried. But mostly I was angry. It seemed so wrong that someone who was one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I'd ever met, who tried never to hurt anyone's feelings, should have to suffer like she seemed to be doing. I was angry at God. "Why didn't you step in? She never did anything wrong!" Quietly but firmly the words from the Bible came to my mind, "He did nothing wrong." In that moment I understood that Jesus could have done it a different way. He didn't have to suffer. God was in charge after all. God's Son could have chosen to avoid the pain. God could have thought of another way to save us. But if God had, would we feel he understood when things seemed unfair. "It is not as though we have a High Priest (Jesus) who doesn't understand our suffering."(Hebrews I think.) But He chose to be one with us, to understand our pain. To live the human condition. Atonement - at one ment some call it.
I still felt sad for my loss and for Grandmas struggle. But I knew God was Love and it was all I needed.

Champaign/Urbana

As I turned on the computer the big news was about who was the richest man on earth now. I am absolutely positive he is not as rich as I am. One of the most rich and beautiful times in our lives was when we lived in Champaign/Urbana Illinois for 2 years. Rich because of our dear friends and beautiful because it's where our 2 first sons were born. We moved there after Terry graduated from respiratory therapy school in Columbia, Missouri. He accepted a job at Parkland Junior College as teacher of respiratory therapy in Champaign. We lived in the back of the church - a 3 bedroom apartment hooked directly on. It seemed our home was the center of an active community of couples who came and went to our church. Each couple was completely unique and blessed us more than any million could. I will tell about each, not because anyone cares to read it but because the retelling gives me such joy. I am smiling as I write.
The first to become our friends were Bill and Barb Gardner. We were so lonely when we moved there. We had no tv and had just moved further from Montana and Missouri families. I recall particularly one day just dropping in on Gardners because we wanted to get to know them better. We had been at Graceland when they were there but hadn't run in their circles. I'm sure they had been napping and would rather we had not come but we were a bit desperate for company. They welcomed us and our friendship began. He was a Chemist and she some kind of secretary. Funny, that didn't seem to important to us except that they were both so smart and interesting. We became pregnant upon arrival and 3 months later they were pregnant also. As became 4 other couples in the congregation. We had Matt first and then everyone else joined in! When Matt was born they came often to see and hold him and 3 months later,after Katie was born I watched her in the daytime while they worked. Many evenings after work they would come and pick up Katie and have supper with us. They loved my applesauce meatloaf and chocolate cake. We celebrated so many birthdays with them, especially Matt and Katie's first. Bill and Terry became fast friends. Bill would go to Terry's baseball games and root him on saying things like, "Unload the piano Reiff" as Terry ran the bases! Bill was the one whose sermon on grace transformed us spiritually. He said, "God will never love you more than he loves you today no matter what you do." He planned the service where our babies were blessed. While he and Terry chatted in the church basement they overflowed the baptismal fount where our other friend, Jim Woodley was going to be baptised. Bill says, "A deacon who deacs is worth many elders." They loved to eat. They would go on "gut busters", eating alot to stretch their stomachs and then not eating the day we would drive to Indiana to a seafood buffet where we would stuff ourselves. They are those old friends who are just as wonderful and dear each time we see them again.
Max and Daisy Matthews were about the age we are now. He was the pastor, they had 2 children who were older and they took all the young couples under their wings like the parents who were too far for us to see every day. They were fun and funny, wise and very loving. She gave Matt his first bath (though she said he wasn't very dirty!) And brought me the most delicious fruit salad that tasted so good. And Max, along with Terry's Dad, blessed Matt. We would go to their home and have wonderful fellowship. It was a delight to be with them.
Jim and Cindy Woodly lived on a farm a few miles from town. He took care of horses for the man who owned the farm but they both were "hands" who kept the place running. It was their home on a braided rug that Matt rolled over for the first time as the men bucked bails with Jim and Cindy cooked a wonderful meal of friend chicken and mashed potatoes. Jim was strong as an ox, throwing large bails up into the loft of the barn without any trouble. Cindy was determined, confident, strong, loved animals and a very hard worker. She loved to wait on us and made us feel so welcome. They got a divorce after they left Urbana.
Cindy's parents were Joyce and John Thumm. He was a 70 in the church and traveled alot. But while we were there they began a group called "The Edge of Adventure" using a book by Keith Green. Thumms, Gardners, Matthews and us - can't remember who else shared together in that small group and got so close as we shared from the heart. John said once that if he had a month to live he would go to a warm place with all his children and spend the month there. I couldn't believe he wouldn't be trying to save one more soul. They are one of the most loving couples I've ever met. I still could sit and talk with Joyce and feel like I could tell her anything from the depths of my soul and not be criticized. She told me that God never took them anywhere but what he didn't help them want to go before they found out they were going. They had spent some time in Okinawa. She also told me that there was nothing wrong with nakedness as she told me about bathing in public baths in Japan. I remember being shocked and it took me years to understand how true that is. It was those frequent moves that hardened Cindy's heart and made her determined to never move again. Joyce told me when they had made one move while Cindy was in high school that for a whole year she refused to come out of her room after she came home from school. She wasn't going to make any move friends that she would have to leave.
Lynn and Christy Misselt had one preschool son, Jason, when we moved to Urbana and Andrew, their second, was the last of a series of babies born while were were there. He was in Grad school and she stayed home. Her commitment to being home with Jason was their reason for eating things like radish sandwiches. They bought a home not far from us so they would walk by on their way to the grocery. One day they came by so excited because they had bought a hersheys candy bar to share. A big treat for them. They shared one day that they were so frustrated because Jason had eaten his whole hamburger at McDonalds. They were used to being able to eat the remains. Christy and Lynn were quiet, gentle people though she was strong, disciplined and determined. It was not a surprise to us when she told us that her mother told them growing up that (speaking of toilet paper) "three squares was enough". Christy said, "Even I know that 3 squares is NOT enough." Jason was active and loud. When we moved to KC, they moved to the Minnesota area to be near her parents. She told me that they went to family counseling there and regretted they hadn't done it sooner. They left our church after leaving Urbana- said they never could believe the Book of Mormon. They have a wonderful family and still live in Minnesota. We all still keep in touch touch.
Sally and George walton were another couple who we weren't as close to. They were country western people and kind of simple, though I'm not even sure why I say that. They just hung on the edge of our group, listening quietly.
There were other people in the church, one couple who called their little girl, "stupid" or some such name rather than her real name.
When family came to visit us they always commented on the diversity of our friendships. It was that which made us rich. Writing this morning I can't help but think how those people shaped our lives. I believe God used them to prepare us for ministry. It was a time of strength and joy. When we left each of the other couples moved around the country. Matthews to McAllen Texas, Gardners to SanDiego, California, Woodleys and Thumms to Independence, Missouri, Misselts to Minnesota.
And us to start Medical School in Kansas City, Missouri. When we see them again we feel a closeness that has never gone away. I was pregnant all but 6 months of the 2 years I was in Urbana. Seeing one of them later they said they didn't remember I was so skinny! (of course I liked that) until I realize I always had a belly on me there. Nathan was born just a week before we moved. Bill always teases me about almost forgetting him as I closed the door on the apartment. It was only for a second but maybe it was because I realized what a treasure place I was loosing. We closed the door on an amazing time of our lives.
Life has gone on but we have never lived in a place that spoke more of the beauty of a church family, the strength of community.

 
 
 
 

Car Wrecks

Today, I drove Jamie's car to Whitehall from Missoula so he could potentially sell it to a friend of ours. On the way down the Butte Hill, driving on snow, ice and slush I went into a slide. I was thinking just before the slide about bad things happening to good people. I was thinking that bad things do happen and that prayer is about changing our souls. By souls I mean that "spiritual" part of us that can connect with God. I was thinking about how it doesn't matter so much what happens but our attitude about it and how the peace of Christ can overcome any obstacle. I was feeling that peace when the slide began. I turned into the slide (so proud of myself) and hit the medium (cement thing) with the front driver side bumper which knocked me in a circle and I hit the rear passenger side bumper, spun the whole 360 degree way around and was back on the road, driving down the hill. (I had not wet my pants - another thing I am proud of!) A policeman was 2 cars behind me and followed me about a forth of a mile, then pulled me over to see if I was alright. After I blubbered to him for a few seconds about how I was driving my son's car home to get sold and felt bad that it wouldn't get as much now, he looked the scrapes over and said it wasn't even bad enough to report, just some scrapes. He had another worse wreck to attend to down the road. I sat there a few minutes by myself, getting my tears out, thanked God I was alive and things weren't worse and then drove home, calling Jamie on the way to tell him about his car. (He was very gracious.)
The last time I had a bad wreck I was driving our new volkswagon station wagon home from Montana back to Independence in 1972 (approx) I came over the hill near Broadus to hit black ice. Before I started that slide I was thinking how proud Terry would be of me that I was making such good time. He was asleep in the back when I hit the ice. He kept saying things like, "Easy, don't over correct, keep it steady." Then the car spun around backwards, rolled over and landed on it's wheels in the barrow pit beside the road. I sat in the car as it's wheels wabbled to a stop, thinking that I had probably killed my husband who wasn't wearing a seatbelt. He must have known I was worried about him because the first thing he said was, "I'm alright. I'm alright." (reassuring tone) We checked each other out and I had a big bruise on my left upper arm. Nothing else was wrong with either of us.
About both wrecks Terry was reassuring, confident, thankful I was alright and ready to face this challenge, believing it would be alright.
Before I left Butte today, I prayed for a safe journey home. Before we left Montana in '72 we prayed for a safe journey. I have no answer for those who prayed for safe journeys and did not receive that blessing. Yet, I continue to pray and ask for journeys mercies. And many other mercies. And I continue to say a "done prayer" when I arrive safely. (when I remember) Do I do it because I can find peace no other way? Or because I believe God's hand is in all things when we pray? I don't have all the answers. But I do know that God's Spirit had been close to me, reassuring and blessing, even in the middle of trials. With it I can go through anything.
And, I believe, that sometimes, for reasons God only knows, God's hand reaches out and keeps us safe, even when we don't deserve it or pray.

Perfect Susan

I have been trying this morning to think if there is anyone I admire more than I do my sister, Susan. I can't think of anyone at the moment. The thing I adore most about her is her ability to be herself. She seems not to be threatened by the fact that someone might not like her if she speaks her mind. Yet she is not rude. Is, in fact, very kind and loving. She is compassionate, yet not soggy. She does not help you have a pity party. She has Mom's ability to laugh in the midst of pain. And to help you laugh in the middle of your own.

I think this ability was born with her and cultivated through the difficulties of her life. Her first challenge was a Mother who was like her. To hear each of them talk, it is clear that they had a bit of an adverserial relationship from the beginning. Whereas Dennis was "perfect", Susan was always in Mom's face. When I think of Susan as a child I think of her complaining, bossing, controlling. I don't think she was a popular member of our family. We were not a fighting family. It was important not to say anything unless it was nice. I think Susan and Randy were the exceptions and maybe Kerry. Thank God for them.
Susan was so angry at Mom for getting pregnant "again" when Diane was on the way. She made no bones about it. "I can't believe it!" Those were her words to Mom the day Susan found Mom sorting through a box of maternity clothes.
One time Jim and I and whoever were playing "communion." Pretending to pass the plate, drink the juice. Susan came in and was so angry that we were being so irreverant.
If I was afraid I laid in the dark and kept it to myself. Susan ran around in the middle of the thunder storms unplugging lights, telling people to stop ironing, herding us all over to Grandma's house where we would be "safe."
If I was angry at someone I kept quiet, smoldering in the silent retreat of my bedroom. Susan spoke right up and was done with it.
I never envied her early on because I didn't see the gift that it was. We were supposed to be quiet and nice and never hurt anyone's feelings. I began loving her fiercely during our teen years. She was my hero. She saved me from the "evil" advances of teenage boys by telling me just what not to do. She helped me look just right every morning as I went to school. She taught me to be nice to people and treat everyone the same regardless of their status. And more.

As an adult, I envy her. I suppose it is the practice at speaking what she saw as the truth, coupled with the wisdom that comes with age that gives her now the wonderful ability to speak her mind, not fearing rejection or shame. And doing it with kindness. And I see that, at her work, with her friends, at church, in her family she is greatly loved for exactly that quality. It has given her family, friends and co-workers a trust in her that is beautiful. They know that she will be honest. They know that she is kind. They know that she will say what is best for the whole situation. They know that she cares deeply for them. She is an amazing teacher because she carries with her a sense of authority, yet a true desire to do what is best for each student as well as the whole. She is a good wife because she loves Paul deeply but she knows she has to take care of herself too. She is a wonderful Mother because her children know where she stands.
Most importantly for me, she is a "perfect" sister because she is not afraid of being "not perfect". She is the person I think of when I think of the scripture "What does the Lord require of you? To do justice, to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." I have always had the blessing of having her go before me. I watched her enter each school setting first. She was the first to date; the first to go to college; the first to get married; the first to raise children; the first to go to work; the first to have children leave. The first to have grandchildren. I'm always watching and learning. Everytime I'm with her I come away inspired to be more like her. She is an amazing gift to me. Thank you, Susan, and thank you God.

Tongue pain

Last week I went with Mom to my brother, Brian's junior high girls basketball game in the Cardwell school gym. Going there is definitely a nostalgia time for me. It looks so small now. During that time I used the restroom. They have rearranged it somewhat but it still had the same area where I spent so much time, especially as a girl "hang out" when I was in Junior high myself.
I had a few memories there - small ones but, evidently, big ones since I still recall their emotional impact on me.
It seemed as though one friend was always talking and we all were listening. She was rather strong in her opinions. One day as we gathered there,(Do girls still spend so much time visiting in the bathroom?) she said how great it was that older women like our mothers were now wearing pants instead of dresses. She made it sound like if you didn't change you were old fashioned and EVERYONE would be wearing pants now. I still remember the feeling of tears welling up in my eyes as I tried to control my anger towards her. I LOVED my beautiful mother in her dresses. I could feel the soft folds of my mother's dresses, holding on to them as a small child. It was as though my friend (yes, she was my friend and still is even though her words wounded me many times) were ripping out a precious part of my life. I thought, "It won't happen to MY mother. But I didn't say a thing.
Another time this same friend said, "That's why your Mother's dishrags stink. You have to rinse them out with cold water." Oh, was I angry! I stayed silent.
Another time we were all discussing the latest tv soap (don't remember which one). We had been following it and some lady was pregnant on the show. Each of us were offering our opinion on who was the father of the child. A dear, kind and sweet girl who had just moved to our community was very protected and innocent. She spoke up, "Well, I think, if she marries Joe, he will be the father. And if she marries Dan, he will be the father." We all broke up laughing. She had no idea why.
I wish I could quote right now all the scriptures about the pain inflicted by a tongue. (Or a laugh)
Whirling in my brain like snowflakes on a windy day,
Thoughts of moments, instances, seconds only, years ago,
Changing me forever. Influences.
Insignificant at the time to those near me.
Yet I was changed, and am yet, by words, looks, moments so small.
So large to my soul.
He said one word, chiding me.
She touched my hand.
She praised my voice.
He understood.
He thought I was less.
She stood up for me.
What will happen today that years later I will think of?
Or, maybe, never remember but is still embedded in my soul?
Let me walk gently today, listen and obey Your voice.
So I will not inflict pain on any.
Prayer, life changing prayer.
Walk by the Spirit. Lives will be changed today...

Done Prayer

I had the privilege, during my visit to Independence, to have a "Grandma Cora Dinner" at the home of Mary Beth(Sacry) and Doug Hunter. Susan, Nancy, Sandy and I thought it would be fun to have a dinner like Grandma used to have. So we assigned each of the "Sacrys" (Hunters, Schaefers, Jenkins, Reiffs, Ericksons, Adkins) to make something. Nancy-fried chicken; Brian Paul - cheese grits; Leslie - cole slaw; myself- butterhorns; Deb and Brian - mashed potatoes; Tiffany - cranberry pudding with caramel sauce; Susan - chocolate sheet cake and she sent some corn also. Eventually we ended up at Mary Beth and Doug's home. Doug said the prayer of blessing and then we ate the delicious meal that would have made Grandma proud of us all. We all sat around the living room with plates on our laps, enjoying visiting. The children played with each other so delightfully. They were noisey but despite the noise it was a blessing to watch their fun with each other. We especially enjoyed our new little Brody, Leslie and Mike's 4 month old. It was a splendid time and such a blessing to me having an opportunity to be with everyone while I was there. Susan and Sandy were sick and couldn't come.
Toward the end of the meal as we were visiting, little Makenna, Debbie and Brian's 4 year old, was walking around whispering something in people's ear. When she came to me she whispered, "We're going to do a done prayer." It took me a moment to realize she wanted us to have an ending prayer like we had a beginning prayer. I don't know why we didn't end up doing it. I thought how only a child might come up with such a splendid and pure idea. It reminded me that we seem to do good at asking God's blessing on our activities, like a safe trip, our meals, help our children get well, etc. but we seldom do a "done prayer." A prayer to say, Thanks, that was a great trip! Or, boy, that WAS a good meal - thanks! Or thanks that my child got well. Thanks for the insight Makenna! I think we should add that idea to our Sacry traditions along with the butterhorn rolls! "And a little child shall lead them."

God's Love, no fear

"We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose." What does that mean?! Well it certainly doesn't mean nothing bad happens to those who love God. I found that out in 1995 when I discovered I had an acoustic neuroma, a brain tumor positioned on the nerve connected from the brain to the ear. I'd lost quite a bit of hearing in my left ear and was experiencing dizzy spells. One day, at the clinic I ran into the wall just out of the blue. So Terry had me go to a specialist who did an MRI and discovered this benign, slow growing tumor and assured me it needed to be removed.
The day the report came in I came by the clinic and Terry was "distraught." He told me I had a tumor. He showed it to me on the MRI. I said, "Good, now I can get it fixed." He said, "Yes, but you could be in the wheel chair the rest of your life!" That did not make me happy.
The funny part of that day was going to Mom's apartment on 2nd street to tell her. Diane was there visiting. Those of you who know Mom can imagine this scene.
"I just found out I have a brain tumor!"
"Well, good, now you can get this taken care of!" (apple not far from the tree)
"Yeah, but I could be not able to walk afterward!"
"Well, (some other positive comment I can't remember)
"I could die!"
(silence)
Suddenly we all three broke out laughing! For some reason, that was the end of my fear.
I really did have a sense of calm through the time until after my surgery. What I did feel was a need to make all my moments and my relationships right. We went to visit in the midwest, stopping to see Nathan in Concordia. We were sitting in a restraunt talking about trivia. I sat there feeling a sense of urgency. I said, "I'm sorry you guys but if this were my last conversation with you I don't want to talk about trivia." ( as you can tell, I was not too sensitive to others' feelings.)
Though I had calm, Terry was full of fear. One Saturday he went to a meeting in Deer Lodge, left in the middle of it and came home just to hold me. It didn't help that the surgery was 10hours instead of the promised 6. He waited, knowing the things doctors know. He said during that time he survived by breathing in the words, "God's love" and breathing out the words, "No fear." Realizing the surgery was way too long and Terry would be worrying, Dr. Braby came out at one point and allowed Terry to come into the surgery room and see me, hanging in a bag, but definitely alive. Because of the consistanty of the tumor it took longer to remove than anticipated.
Following the surgery Terry was fine. Even when I lost my facial nerve and looked freaky. Even when I kept calling him to come back to the hospital from Diane and Pete's in the middle of the night to be with me. Even when he helped me to the bathroom, changed my hospital bed and I came back and threw up and peed on it. Even when I passed out in the elevator as he was taking me home. It was difficult but he was fine. He knew I wasn't leaving him. After surgery was the hard part for me! But that's another story.
The part of this story I love was about a year and a half later when Terry and I were at a Young Life camp in Oregon. The whole group we took were going to climb a ropes course. It's a difficult course there, high up, walking along wires. Even though it's next to impossible to get hurt, it's very scarey. One of the boys, Chris, did not want to do it when the rest of the group went. But it ate at him and the next day he asked Terry if he could do it. So Terry and I and another kid went to watch and support him. He was scared to death! But he was doing it! As he walked along the wire I heard Chris repeating something to himself. Terry was saying, "Keep saying it Chris!" I asked Terry what Chris was saying. He told me, "God's love, no fear." All through the course, that's what Christ was repeating so he could do it.
I stood watching, praising God for the many good things God had brought out of our difficult situation. "All things work for good."