Line Drawing for a Gravestone

Cardinals, bright red and olive, sing with bell notes - our daughter's favorite bird.

They came all the time to the pink dogwood in the front yard.

On that day, at breakfast she said, "Look, Mom! Look at the pretty red bird!" So, I stopped my Sunday morning worship leader's rushing, and enjoyed the beauty of a small bird with her.

I am so glad I took a moment on that frozen day in January. 

Many a time since, I catch myself looking out of the bay window at the dogwood tree. Through all the changes of seasons, our brightly colored visitors sing from its branches

They still come,

                          but she does not.

Christmas 2000 - Finding Warmth in a Frozen World

Christmas 2000

Dear Family and Friends,

I wondered whether or not to write this year. It seems that Christmas letters are supposed to be cheery news of how well the year has gone for one’s family -- and in some ways this has been a harder one for us than most, yet of course there have been many, many blessings along the way.

I decided to write anyway because I am asking each of you to pray deeply for us in this year to come, particularly for Heidi. We really need your prayers. Someone who works with Heidi said that she believes the reason we do not see more miracles of healing is that we need to have more people praying for each one. In the spirit of that possibility, I am asking you to please add your earnest prayers to ours.

By God's grace, Heidi is still in remission. There has been no new tumor growth either in her brain or on her spine. But she had been exhibiting neurological symptoms this year such as voiding and falling that had given enough cause for concern to warrant extensive testing. The tests were not promising; this is why I am asking you to really pray for her.

What the MRI has shown is that she has been having what appear to be mini-strokes because of long-term radiation damage. This is why we have seen things become increasingly difficult for her. We have been told that it is basically like Alzheimer’s, except that Heidi is only twenty-three. The doctors have told us that a larger “stroke” could happen and the small ones could continue and that they have nothing to offer her to help. Once again, we find that we have nowhere to turn, except to throw ourselves out onto God’s mercy. With Him, all things are possible, so we ask you to please pray that He would heal Heidi’s brain.

We also ask your prayers for Justin. He is home with us now after a series of things gone wrong in the Army. It has been difficult for him, but he has come home matured in many ways. His endless curiosity about life is still intact and it is good to see the ways that he has grown in compassion and a certain degree of wisdom.

Pray that over time the Lord will give him direction for the next step in his life, and that he will have the grace and desire to follow His leading. Though it all, Justin is truly growing into a young man, and that is a lovely thing to watch unfold.

Thankfully, Galen has been having a normal kid’s year. He had been fully engaged as a player in the Inline Hockey league, but the games are now during church. It was sad for him to give it up, but the Lord is merciful and Galen got to be a starter for the middle school football team (amid the protests of Mom that he was way too much the smallest guy out there!) He has been able to keep up with his studies and participates in the National Junior Honor Society (if at times just a little reluctantly).

As with Justin, I have been amazed at how easily he has been able to begin to transfer playing a stringed instrument to guitar. We ask that you would pray that he would continue to grow in God’s grace.

This year brought a long anticipated change for Heidi. She has had the wonderful opportunity to attend two sheltered workshops three days each week. The first is at Didlake in Alexandria where they make microfiche on contract. The second is at Spinnaweb in Occoquan where they weave all kinds of beautiful cloth on various types of looms. This has been a true joy for her and for us and we are grateful for it.

That is essentially the “news.”

“How do you cope?” some will ask when thinking of the difficulties.

Others will understand the part that prayer plays in keeping us together.

However, it is so much more than that. For you see, God, Himself, saw how hard it was, and in His mercy, He sent His very own Son. Even more than that: He could have protected Jesus from all that pain that life can offer, but did not.

Instead, we are told that Jesus is faithful and kind-hearted towards us because He suffered in all ways just as we do. He knew all of our hurts and fears and weaknesses and so has the greatest compassion for us. I would like to quote from a study Bible, The Answer (page 590)

“`Jesus wept.’ These words describe a man who, when grief came, was able to weep, for He wanted and needed to express the feelings within him... I suggest we put a comma . . . so it now reads: ‘Grieve, not as those who have no hope...”

God weeps? I asked Him and waited as He answered.

-- Yes, God weeps, Child.

For you, for the world

God weeps.

But the day will come when there will be an end to that weeping,

both yours and Mine.

That day will come

and we will rejoice, you and I together.

There will be no more weeping, no more sorrow.

I am the Rock that shelters you

and My heart, your new home.

Rest, now.

Rest in Me.

Know that you can trust Me, My Child, and do not be afraid. I will not let you fall from the path that I have started you on; I love you too much for that. I am the Lord, and I have called you to Myself. I have taken you by the hand and I will keep you, for you cannot keep yourself. I know this and I do not love you less just because you are imperfect.

Remember: I did not come into the world to condemn you. No, I have not. When you are weak like a bruised reed, I will never crush you. Rather, I will nurture you until you can stand again, for I cherish you. When the light inside you grows dim and you feel as though you might faint along the way, I will come into you and shed the brightness of My hope, for I am the Light that has come into the world, and I will lend you My strength.—

And so, at this time of year, we celebrate Him who truly is the Light of the world and the joy in our hearts. Without Him, I long ago told Mike, life would be nothing but a cruel joke.

But with the light of His love shining warmly into our hearts, we have hope, no matter what. He loves us – He actually loves us! Think of that. That in itself is the greatest of miracles, when at times we cannot even stand ourselves: He loves us! He loved us enough to even come as one of us. And if anyone would turn to Him, He has promised to never send him or her away!

 John 3:16 "For God so loved the world that He gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through Him. Those who believe in Him are not condemned.”

Our prayer for you is that you will always carry that thought in your heart: that if you want to know Him and to be close to Him, He will never turn you away. That is the very reason He chose to come as a baby, born in a manger, in low estate: just so that He could have you close to Himself if you so desired.

We pray that both you and we will cherish His nearness to us above all things. May this Christmas season be blessed for you!

In His love,

Patty, Michael, Heidi, Justin, and Galen

The Jagged Ocean

Prologue:

Jagged edges of the building, black glass and steel, push into the courtyard below. The sun, glinting off their angles, no  longer seems to mock; but neither does it comfort. A woman stands contained within the building’s edges, alone. Her sea-green eyes hold a hint of distant summers. Many were those lazy days when the water lapped at her feet, causing them to sink into the warm sand.

But the summer days are forgotten now. An angry ocean blots them out. It rises higher and higher – only to crash hatefully down.

Crushing, destroying,

then calmly receding,

the water drags all she once held dear down into its depths.

She watches as crystalline images begin to dance on the sun burnt grass of the courtyard below her. Ponies jump and play dodge with barefoot children while puppies frisk between bare legs. Shimmering joyously, her daughter turns a cartwheel among the giant-sized daisies, then looks up. With eyes crackling and hair flying, she waves two handed to her mother standing at the window. Head thrown back, she laughs and spins with all the unbounded exuberance of seven going on eight. Suddenly she stops and leaps sideways to tag another scampering child.

Then, like soap bubbles bursting on the sidewalk, the children splinter off into nothingness.

Slowly the images shift.

Another child dances there – a child of summers long gone. She speeds through the complex steps, never faltering, never once stumbling. Light sparks outward from her sea-green eyes and gives strength to her steps. That fiery joy will die too soon.

But for the moment, loving arms enfold the child’s dreams. Peaceful and calm, the earth and moon and stars are her tender playmates while the two strong arms keep all her fears at bay.

Then suddenly, those arms are yanked away.

A cannibalistic mass devours her mother’s brain.

Puppies and ponies and bare feet on the grass vanish in the cold wind.

To be robbed this way once is tragic.

To be robbed so twice, unthinkable.

Closing her eyes, the mother folds her arms and hugs them tightly over her stomach. Her mouth tightens. She thrashes her head once to each side, then opens her eyes. Turning back towards the child cocooned within the white sheets, she stares. The lifelines intrude into her daughter and emerge out again, and the mother thinks:

It wasn’t so long ago…