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...