High time to blog

I don't know quite how to say this . . . but I am getting married in 14 days. Unbelievable!

It's been so long since I've truly set down to think about writing, that I've got a bazillion things to say. But I'll try to at least keep them organized, and to at least let you know when I'm changing the subject. I'll try.

This morning
Jack (the guy who was planning to walk me down the aisle) had triple bypass surgery and came through swimmingly. His wife Lahree reports that they may put him into a regular room by tomorrow. We're absolutely thrilled and so thankful to God for healing. Now if we can only find ways to entertain him through his hospital stay...three weeks and counting. (see posted pic of Jack and Lahree up by Lake Michigan a few years ago)

Goodbye to the Y
For 9 years, I've taught water aerobics every Thursday night at 6:30 at my local Y. It's like the best habit ever--super good workout and one hour of play in the wet stuff. I'll miss it lots, and the people, and the secrets shared while working out in the pool, and the workouts that have cleared my head and helped me heal through depression.

I once sat in the sauna and sobbed about a failed romance. I kept working out after losing a job, and continued still after finding a new one. I have felt my muscles and body grow stronger, while my spirit did as well. It's been a constant...and the people in my class have become friends.

Goodbye to my Y. You will be missed.

And farewell to my friends
I've been blessed through two wedding showers--one with my coworkers and one with girlfriends at the local melting pot fondue restaurant (a sweet experience, indeed!).

My dear friend Julie (the one I've traveled with, prayed with, cryed with, and celebrated with) graciously made shower #2 a soothing and uplifting experience. I was speechless after each amazing woman shared what they appreciate about me, blessing me with their friendship and their lovely gifts.

Dinner with coworkers Katy, Karen, and Phyllis, had me laughing so hard my stomach hurt later!

I'm rich with relationship, and my heart is sore at having to say goodbye. Good thing I know God's plans are good as I start a new life.

And that true friendships never die.

Sometimes a girl needs a good cry
Last night, I was talking on the phone to David, and something set me off emotionally and there was no going back. I hung up the phone and sobbed about everything in general--the absence of my dad during this joyful time, saying goodbye to my coworkers and my livelihood, leaving kindred-spirit friendships that have sustained me, leaving my church behind, my hairstylist and my gym, my doctors and my usual local haunts.

New routine awaits me, and now it is time to say goodbye to the old. I hold it fondly, but am preparing to let it go. Change can be good, but it is good and right to fully grieve the letting go.

It's so true--sometimes a girl just needs a good cry.

And now, looking ahead
"Two roads diverged in the woods, and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference."

I quoted the above by Robert Frost last Saturday as David and I walked the trail around the lake, and were forced to choose between two paths. And it reminded me that our choices, usually the hardest ones, are turning points, and they often involve obedience and sacrifice, and it made me wonder what paths David and I will choose as we walk forward through life together. I feel in my heart that we will take the one less traveled by--praying to our Creator to show us the way, to give us the strength to live bold and large, following his lead, and leaning into his strength. And I know we will do this all imperfectly.

A month or two ago, we baked a yummy loaf of crusty gluten-free cinnamon raisin bread, and it was fresh out of the oven. David cut a piece off the loaf, took a bite, put his arm around me, and held the bread up to my mouth for me to have a taste. And it was delicious, so fresh.

Then I took the slice, and I held it up to his mouth, and he took a bite--back and forth, feeding each other. Waiting patiently for our turn.

And it occurred to me in that new moment, one I had never experienced in any way before, that this was what our marriage would be about.

As we become one in every way, discovering how to sustain each other--being taken care of than taking care of the other. It was such an intimate moment that it took my breath away, and I think I will remember it always.
David, I hold your heart carefully, longingly, looking forward to life together--to so many days of sharing bread with you.

18 days...and counting!

It is surreal to sit and think that in 18 days I will be a "Mrs." and that I get to spend the rest of the life with the man I love. I have much more to blog, but it must wait until I can get a good wireless connection with my laptop (probably at Panera this weekend).

Our friend Jack continues to improve, and we enjoyed a visit with him on Sunday. Bypass surgery is scheduled for 7:15 am Friday, and we would appreciate your continued prayers.

No clue, really, whether he'll be able to be present at the wedding. But we do have a backup plan. We're just thrilled to know he's growing stronger each day.

Be back soon...

PROOF POSITIVE God answers prayers

Y'all, sometimes God doesn't answer prayers in the way I am hoping and pleading...but this time, he continues to answer yes to our prayers for Jack! Not only did Jack say "I want to go home!" on Sunday, he also asked our pastor how church was that morning. So like him to switch the focus to someone else. :)

An MRI showed normal brain function, too--just to prove God's emphatic "yes" in this situation.

Let's all continue to pray big. Jack's had a bit of agitation, which is probably from some medicine, so they are sedating him until they can figure it out. How should you pray? Pray they can solve this issue, and then pray that effective bypass surgery can be performed soon so our dear Jack can go home!

There's no place like home, as Dorothy says, so let's pray his surgery and recovery comes quickly so he can continue to recover at home.

Thank you, heavenly Father, for reminding us that you listen to our prayers--help us to remember to pray big so you can continue to do big things in our lives.

Jack wants to go home!

Dear friends:

Jack spoke yesterday--and said "I want to go home!!" Official update below. Keep those prayers coming!

Praise the Lord- the doctor removed the ventilator today and he is doing great! His first words were, "I want to go home!" Jack is moving his arms and legs and recognizes everyone. Talking is hard because he is so hoarse from the vent. Pray that he will get strong quickly so they will do the bypass surgery before sending him home to recover more.

"The Lord is my rock and fortress, my deliverer, and my strength, in whom I will trust. Psalm 18:2

Update part 2:

26 days till our wedding!
Come back this week for updates on my final water aerobics class and two wonderful showers from my coworkers and friends. Really, I'll be updating very soon! :)

Signs of Hope

Our friend is still fighting, and we saw signs of hope today. We just returned from the hospital, where we learned that they took Jack off of sedation and saw him glance around the room, as well as responding to a voice command to squeeze and release someone's hand.

They sedated him again, as his blood pressure was going wild. Please pray that they are able to stabilize him (he is also doing some breathing on his own). When they can stabilize him, they can talk further about doing the bypass surgery that is required.

Keep those prayers comin'....

Please pray for our dear friend

Friends:

Dear friends of ours, Jack and Lahree, are in a completely unexpected crisis right now, and they need your prayers.

Yesterday morning, our dear friend Jack suffered a massive heart attack. (See attached picture of David and I with Jack and Lahree at their cottage over New Years.) He is hospitalized in critical condition, and it will be another day before we know if he has brain activity.

Jack has been so special to me, like a second dad, and I was looking forward to him walking me down the aisle at my wedding.

We will pray for a miracle, knowing that Jack has a heavenly Abba Father who cares for him more than we ever could. We are praying Scripture found in Psalm 41:1-4 for this faithful servant-- "Blessed is he who has regard for the weak; the Lord delivers him in times of trouble. The Lord will protect him and preserve his life; he will bless him in the land and not surrender him to the desire of his foes. The Lord will sustain him on his sickbed and restore him from his bed of illness."

51 days...but who's counting?

Dearest friends:

I am a pathetic blogger these days...but a happy bride-to-be!

David and I had our first shower on Sunday at his church in Indiana...40 women attended! I was humbled and awed by their generosity and their welcoming spirits. My favorite gift? A toss-up between the laundry sorter from Target (3 bins!) and the Kate Spade candle holders (we did not register for these but they are amazing!) David's favorite gift: the pizza stone. Gotta love a guy who can cook...who makes you a frittata on Sunday mornings before church. In the future, I might even get him to serve me breakfast in bed! :)

The journey is sweet, albeit hectic at times, and our family and friends are wonderfully supportive and encouraging.

I'll be back soon with musings on what it will mean to share our problems and our peanut butter, the dailiness and the divine of married life.

51 days. We still can't believe it. But we're quite simply, overjoyed.

Talk to you soon.

Confessions from an 35-year-old bride

I am getting married on April 26 to the man I love. This is no small thing, and I am wholeheartedly grateful for this blessing. The kind of grateful where you lie down with half of your face on the carpet and thank your heavenly Father, because you are so humbled by God's goodness, and the way he has provided a good thing for you so specifically, as His unique child. I am thankful for how He brought David and I together, and I can't wait to see what God does in our future, as we seek Him.

That's the very good part.

The hard, difficult part for me is being a bride. Not because I don't want to be the beautiful bride on the day I pledge my heart and life to David. That's not it at all. It's the obsession with the details and the sometimes all-too-unsubtle messages that one who is single sometimes feels in his or her heart--or even sometimes hears from someone who is less than sensitive to their situation.

Like...
"You're not worthwhile and you don't deserve being celebrated because you haven't captured someone's heart. Watch as we throw 3.7 showers and a big wedding party for the one who is in love."
"You will, once again, lose part of the friendship with this dear friend who is about to get married and be preoccupied with his or her new spouse...even if that person provided for some of your key relational needs as a single person. Oh, well. You must once again, move on..."
"You, my friend, should bury your deep, core desire for a love of your own and be ecstatically happy for your friend who is getting married, even if a piece of your heart hurts in the process."

Now I am not saying that wedding showers are bad. In fact, they are generous and wonderful. I am looking forward to them in many ways. But who will celebrate the person with a lonely or yearning heart? Wasn't it God who said he is closest to those whose hearts are hurting--or simply, those who are thirsting for love?

Most singles are not ALWAYS struggling, but we go through seasons. Shouldn't we be celebrated whether we struggle or not? Do we please Jesus when we respect persons based on who decides to love them? Or do we please him more when we decide to celebrate each person's glory as an always-treasured child of God, no matter their marital status or situation.

Don't mistake what I'm saying here: I am filled with joy at the blessings of love, but my heart is also sensitive, with strong feelings for those of us who have spent so many years wishing for love.

If you're reading this, please find a way to encourage a single. Throw a party to celebrate them. Invite them to dinner. Listen to their hearts. Surprise them with a gift that is "uniquely them."

Do exactly what our heavenly Father does for anyone who sometimes struggles with deep desires God has given that go unfulfilled for a time--move toward them, not away from them.

To sum it up, we should celebrate marriage, but even more, we should allow Christ's love to flow through us as we discover how to celebrate individuals made in Jesus' image. I hope I can keep wrestling with what it means to celebrate people like Jesus would, lavishly.

The Next Great Widget...er, Blidget

Guys:

You can download the blidget below to your blog or home page and get my latest posts updated without having to visit my blog. Isn't life grand? Just click on "get widget."

Happy trails!

the sacred page 5

New Year's Up North Eve

Some people like to get to warmer places when winter strikes. Not me! For the last four New Year's I've been treasuring up north giveaways at my friends' cozy cottage near sleeping bear dunes. And this year was a blissfully white, full-of-the-snow-we-enjoy-in December-and-try-to-"endure"-by the-time-February-rolls-around holiday!

Pics to enjoy....engagement story below, in case you missed it. Feels like old news now!

PICS:
David's cheesy self-portrait on New Year's Eve; Suzie & her kindred spirit friend Brenda at their favorite up north restaurant; ; David & Suzie at the summit of Empire Bluff, overlooking Lake Michigan; Jack & my fiance ham it up!; Jack, Lahree, Suzie & David inside the cozy cabin

I said . . . yes, of course!

Last night, at around 7:30 pm, on the second floor of an old, beautiful hotel, as we were sitting next to a brilliantly lit Christmas tree, David asked me to be his wife! After I recovered, I said I'd be honored.

It wasn't yet Christmas, and so I was slightly surprised, especially since a sinus headache had put me in a foul mood earlier in the day. And since I was speaking and singing in Sunday School this morning, I had grand plans to be in bed by about 9 pm. Riiiiight.

David, the early bird, woke up about 6 am Saturday--by 7 am he was asking my mother if he could marry her daughter. At 7:30 am, he was scheduled to have breakfast at IHOP with a very good friend of mine named Jack. He and his wife have become like family to me over the last several years, and Jack wanted to have a little one-on-one time with David, to get to know him a bit better and make sure he truly is the one I've been waiting for! After over 2 hours at breakfast with Jack, David had clued him in on his intentions and showed him the diamond.

Then David began a long day of waiting . . .

Our date started with a wonderful tour of a local garden that featured Christmas trees around the world. Next, the first-rate Cuban/Spanish restaurant where we had our first date. We reminisced about our first evening together in June and laughed at how comfortable we'd become. For dessert, we reordered a scrumptious dish of the most heavenly dark chocolate. My headache was easing, and my mood was definitely improving...

A nice walk through downtown, then a stroll through the hotel until David found his spot.
Surreal, yes. Happy, absolutely! Thankful? I am!

For God in his perfect way, in his perfect timing, has brought two "mature" never-been-marrieds together. We pinched each other to make sure it was real. It is.

When I called mom last night, she said she'd been praying for David for 38 years. "But I'm only 35!" I insisted. "Oh, 36 years then." Turns out she was asking God to bring me a godly spouse while she was pregnant.

Thanks, mom! And thanks be to God, who gives us immeasurably more than we could ask or imagine.

Surprise, Surprise

Sometimes people in love just make you...roll your eyes. Unless, perchance, you are the person in love. When you are the smitten, your behavior makes perfect sense. Trust me!

You do what are normally senseless things like stealing a kiss from your paramour in a crowded concert hall. You spend time dreaming up the perfect meal you might cook for your sweetie and staying up way past your bedtime talking with him or her, dreaming about your future together. And strangely, you usually aren't that tired the next day. It's the way of love, at least when it is new and fresh.

And occasionally a man might even drive three hours north in the middle of a Thursday to surprise his beloved with a dozen red roses, just because. This is the situation I found myself in a few weeks ago, when the receptionist called to tell me I had a package up front.

It makes me smile now, but at the moment I saw those roses and David sitting next to them, I was shocked and confused. I had just talked to him an hour before, while he was at "work." I halted in my tracks and mumbled something about not understanding--it was the perfect ambush, a delightful surprise.

Another case of shock and awe

Recently I was asked to teach a Sunday School class on Mary, the mother of Jesus. I knew it would definitely require research and study--I also knew it would personally be a great opportunity to discover more about her myself during this Advent and Christmas season.

So I'm digging in, eager to know more about her, to unearth her motives, her mind, and her heart.

And what I see is shocking, in all its clarity: a mere slip of a girl, 13 or 14, mostly forgettable and unusable in her day, except as a wife, which she would soon become. It would bring her dignity; it would offer her in some ways, a new life.

So, one day, out of the blue, an angel approaches you and says you're highly blessed. Your mind racing, you struggle to grasp the message you are given. But instead of doubting, you wonder, "How can this happen to me? I haven't had sex."

And when the angel explains that you will become pregnant by the Holy Spirit, you absorb his words about you...about your relative Elizabeth.....about nothing being beyond Yahweh.

And of all the things you could say, YOU SAY YES!

You put the request of God above your family, who will most certainly want nothing to do with you. You put God's plan above your own safety, knowing you could easily be stoned. You put Joseph's promise to you in jeopardy--perhaps he will only divorce you quietly...

YOU SAY YES. And the really amazing thing is, Joseph does, too. He also listens to the angel, and decides he will marry you still, giving up his right to intimacy with you until your baby is born, playing second-fiddle, serving as your midwife, fleeing with you and Jesus to keep you safe, giving all of us another first-class lesson in obedience.

But what was harder, Mary? Becoming the mother of Jesus, or moving from your role as mother to the role of disciple. Even when Jesus left you out to pursue his ministry, even when you stood by the cross, watching him die as surely as you had been present to his birth. And after he was long gone to heaven, serving faithfully in the early Church.

Here is the lesson for me about Mary. When the shock of her life came, and she was asked to give up everything for obedience, she didn't hesitate. At such a tender age, her heart was already set on faithfulness to God. The decision was made before the angel frightened her that day.

I only hope my heart would also be this open to the Holy Spirit's lead. I want what Mary has. Surprises or not. Even if it makes me uncomfortable. And even if it costs.

The giving of many thanks

So, was your Thanksgiving thanks-filled? I absolutely adore the minutes after everyone sits down to enjoy a thanksgiving feast and family members take their turns offering up what they are most grateful for.

I cherish these moments because they remind you what make your loved ones tick; I cling to their words because our daily lives often seem more filled with the grumblings within and without than the unadulterated gratefulness that is infinitely more becoming.

I love the giving of thanks.

I also love the sight of my main squeeze cooking up a juicy turkey and carving it for his family. (He's the one smiling; his brother is the one hiding!) I enjoyed meeting David's mother and father, and the sister and niece I also met for the first time this weekend. David's nearest brother and his family are thoughtful, intentional and interesting. And I look forward to meeting his other brother's family who lives out West someday in the future.

We also traveled to my sister Julie's house for another celebration on Saturday; the food was amazing, the fellowship even better.

I missed dad this weekend (as I imagine most of you missed a loved one who has passed on), and I took Shakespeare's words to heart: "He that lacks time to mourn, lacks time to mend." And so on Thanksgiving Day, after the family had left, and David and I sat together, the tears flowed.

Though the pain over the wrongness of our separation cut through my heart, the sobs also reminded me of the gift of dad's presence in my life for over 34 years. And the hope-filled assurance that I will see him again, when all wrong is made so very right.

Thank you, lover of my soul, for this deep assurance. Thank you for life, love, and even loss--for it reminds me of the gifts of life and love. I am thankful, even for the opportunity to miss these gifts, and to long for them all the more.

quote for today

“Just the knowledge that a good book is awaiting one at the end of a long day makes that day happier.”
–Kathleen Norris, Hands Full of Living

So, what good book currently awaits you at the end of the day?

Thanksgiving recap later this week...

Drink Reed's & make your stomach happy!

I drink this crazy brew every week--Reed's ginger brew--which is technically ginger ale, but with up to 25 grams of ginger in a bottle, it's like a thousand times stronger than Vernors or something.
I'm addicted, really. But this is one addiction that's actually good for me: with fruit juice instead of refined sugar, some way powerful ginger, and herbs and spices, all brewed batch by batch, it's a killer complement to any meal.
At Reed's, they treat their products like fine wine and take their health benefits seriously. David and I love the way the ginger helps you digest a meal (other health benefits extolled at reedsgingerbrew.com).
I dare you to try the "extra ginger" brew...or if you'd rather start slowly, go for the raspberry ginger brew. It delivers a happy kick that will make your stomach smile.
It's available at health food stores, and now some grocery stores, like Meijer. Drink up, then post your review here!

One Enchanted Evening

Last weekend, my fine-looking boyfriend and I had a magical time. It started with the culinary delights of The Melting Pot, a fondue restaurant.

The truth is, we are both foodies at heart, and neither of us could get over the fantastic array of vegetables and exotic cheese; the beauty of filet mignon, shrimp, and pork in a mojo broth; the exquisite richness of dark chocolate raspberry fondue covering our skewered bananas, cheesecake, and marshmallows, paired with the perfect port wine. Ooo-laa-laa!

And this is where I give you a secret from our waiter that is priceless when it comes to enjoying an evening of fondue--dump at least one of your courses in the pot, no skewers required. That is the trick when you're feeling hungry and want your food straightaway without having to slowly cook it yourself. We employed this trick with our vegetables, retrieving them with our slotted "rescue" spoon a minute and a half later, and enjoying quick fruits with almost no labor.

One final word: allow three hours from start to finish.

Then it was on to the Celtic Woman concert to enjoy a musical ensemble comprised of five Irish female artists: vocalists Chloë Agnew, Órla Fallon, Lynn Hilary and Lisa Kelly, and fiddler Máiréad Nesbitt. The group's repertoire ranges from traditional Celtic tunes to modern songs.

Fiddler Mairead Nesbitt was spellbinding, nymphlike, and joyous as she brandished her instrument, dancing and twirling while she effortlessly mastered the fiddle--in high heels, no less. It reminded me of how I believe we will offer up our giftedness in heaven, with abandon, no reservations, and with unimaginable verve. The voices of the others were airy, perfect, and sometimes strong. There was Swanee River and You Raise Me Up, Irish tunes (but of course) and rocked-out percussion sequences.

You will wonder if you should pay $40, $50, or $60 to see this wonderful sight--I can only tell you that I am a lifetime music lover, and I have never experienced its equal.

An enchanted evening, indeed. Thanks, David! You're the best.

quote for a Thursday

“Life is not orderly. No matter how we try to make life so, right in the middle of it we die, lose a leg, fall in love, drop a jar of applesauce.” Natalie Goldberg

My question...so why do we still try to control our lives so much, knowing that we can't? Please post...

To the overscheduled, he says "come"

Sometimes I get too busy and I forget so quickly how much Jesus loves me, how much he desires for me to sit quietly with him. To discover the secrets of the abundant life he desperately wants to give you and me.

And, when my life gets too crowded and the word "margin" begins to refer only to settings on my Microsoft Word documents, I can get sad, anxious, and angry all at once.

Like this week, when a woman on the phone pressed me on something, and I retorted, "Well, OBVIOUSLY NOT." (Ugly.) Or the morning I woke up and felt like I wanted to cancel every appointment or obligation on my calendar for the next 6 months or so. (Seriously.) Or how about the way I so easily take on not only my own stuff, but the burdens and expectations of others, forgetting to bring all my anxieties to my heavenly Father, knowing and believing he will take care of them. (Pride masquerading as "genuine concern.")

Busted!

But even when I find myself in the ugliest of places, Jesus' invitation from Matthew 11:28-30 stares back at me, unflinchingly, from my open Bible, and I know he's inviting me back to a place of freedom and life.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened (yes, I'm drowning under the load!)

...and I will give you rest. (I like to think of it as cool water and shade after a hot, dusty hike)

Take my yoke upon you (my way of doing life) and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

(And all those words, "rest," "easy," and "light" bring peace and a smile.)

So, consider this, on the days, weeks, or months I choose busyness or productivity over sweet rest in Jesus, I am not being obedient. I am taking a load that is not mine to bear--and it shows. To my coworkers, to the man God has given me, to my girlfriends, to the friends who haven't checked into what this abundant God-life is all about. Especially to them.

And so, to the overscheduled and harried, he says "come." That is why this week I have made way for more margin, more time just to be. And that is precisely why I canceled today's Biblestudy, even though I always look forward to it. Because sometimes you have to choose the best over the very good.

Sometimes the most Jesus-like thing a girl can do is to stop and say "It's time for rest."

"Isn't it lovely?" or "Suzie falls in love at last"

True love comes quietly, without banners or flashing lights. If you hear bells, get your ears checked.
Erich Sega

Like the measles, love is most dangerous when it comes late in life.
Lord Byron

Yes! Alright already! I have fallen in love and left blogging behind for too long, until friends and acquaintances and my honey himself have begged me to write at last, to fill in all the delicious blanks in this love story, to give them reasons to smile coyly and whisper, "Well, Suzie, it's about time..."

About 6 months ago, I was on eharmony.com, partly as a diversion from the impending grief our family was experiencing at the thought of losing dad--partly because, although my dating life seemed bleak (or non-existent), I still thought there might be a single of the male species out there, over 30 years old, who loved Jesus, didn't fear commitment, and might someday love me. Maybe.

I wasn't holding my breath, and I was carefully screening all potential applicants. Within a month, I had closed out a bevy of 43-year-olds (or it seemed like they were all 43) who either weren't serious in their search or just didn't seem right for Suzie.

And so, as my options narrowed drastically, a 41-year-old from the state of Indiana named David, remained open. He looked kind, he appeared to have a good heart, and to my surprise, it seemed like I had the qualities he was looking for.

Then came the first phone call, an awkward event, where each party listens politely, and laughs more than usual. He was interesting, this David. But was he determined enough to call back? Sensitive enough for a grieving heart? Confident enough to appreciate a confident woman?

In short, yes! And so began the process of phone calls and visits, the shared interests of following Jesus, and appreciating music, fine cuisine and dark chocolate--and discovering differences, and admiring each other carefully from a distance.

I am not sure when this fondness turned to love, for it was gradual and sweet. Was it the beautiful bike ride around Mackinac Island? The day he slipped a "ring pop" on my finger and asked me to go steady? Could it be the way David, although unsure of what to say or do, stepped into the fresh grief mom and I were experiencing? Perhaps it was the day I realized that although dad had never met David, I knew for certain dad would appreciate David's strong work ethic and his faithful heart; his easy laughter and the way he opens my car door, just one of the ways he gently cares for me.

It was not a moment in time for me, but a slow understanding and awakening. I write of it now because writer Don Miller once said that if you like someone you should tell them. How much more true, I think, if you love them, and they are in a place to receive that love. Especially when they have first extended their love to you.

Of course, CS Lewis also writes that love is dangerous, and that if you want to protect your heart, you will not give it to anyone, not even an animal. But I have learned through the years, as Lewis did, the life of the imprisoned, guarded heart is no way to live. And so I choose love, no matter what comes.

Not long ago I held David's hand and said "God is good, all the time." And he said "All the time, God is good."

I'm still here!

Despite the lack of posts, I'm still here...more to come this week on this whirlwind of a life.

And for now, a quote for the day:

"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words."
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Author Madeleine L'Engle goes home

If my religion is true, it will stand up to all my questioning; there is no need to fear.
Madeleine L'Engle (1918-2007)

She passed away this last week, living behind hundreds of thousands of admirers. In writing, she believed a greater spirit of creativity came alive that almost mystically wrote through her. In her Christian faith, she embraced the tension of loving Jesus and being creative, pushing all the envelopes, never caring what others thought. She made us think deeper and broader, more critically and more openly. She will be missed.

Don't miss her beautiful little book Walking on Water.

Once Upon a Deer

Just last evening, I posted the beginning of a list of the best things in life that are free.

Tonight, God gave me a glimpse of one of those "best things" in the presence of three delicate fawns. Sure, you can say it's coincidence that I listed "watching a fawn wander through a meadow." And if you're so inclined, you can even believe it.

But I saw not one, but three white-tailed beauties frolicking through the only open, wide green space near my apartment building. All this, as I returned from a long walk where I poured out the mysteries and thoughts of my heart and mind to my Creator.

Sometimes these walks are the only way for me to process the deeper things that are moving and shifting, the questions and musings, the worries and what-ifs.

And when I saw this unlikely sight, I felt as if my Maker was holding my heart, as if he was reminding me that as I walk through life, he will be in the details, no matter what life brings. No matter what comes.

Brilliant joys, shattering lows, big transitions, unknown plot lines that have yet to be written in my story.

He may show up in the playful antics of a fawn. He may thunder into my thoughts through a lightning storm. Or hold me through the arms of a beloved. Or awaken the jaded parts of my heart through the laughter of a child.

He may do whatever he pleases. But whatever that might be, he will never stop loving me.

The best things in life are free...

• A wink or a kiss on the cheek from a cherished admirer
• a full afternoon reading a fascinating page-turner
• long, meandering walks in the woods, smelling the pine trees
• slow sunsets over Lake Michigan
• listening to or creating soulful music
• filling several journal pages with a "gratefulness list"
• lending a hand to someone in need
• watching a fawn wander through a meadow
• listening to stories from anyone over 75
• poring over a photography or art book at the library
• concocting a really wonderful dessert out of leftover ingredients
• observing an elderly couple holding hands
• and more....YOUR TURN, PLEASE POST!

Observing Grief

He is not here. I cannot pick up the phone and call. I cannot ask for his advice about anything--even if it is big, and I don't want to make the decision without his input. And when I go for a walk, I cannot feel his hand in mind; neither can I feel his quiet presence and gentleness.

These are no longer options. And the harsh reality is that his chair will be empty this Thanksgiving and Christmas, too. He will not show up on my doorstep with his tools, ready to help do something that needed doing. Some of his books are mine now, because although he loves reading, he no longer needs them. He will never need them again.

His clothing has already been given to new owners; his tools distributed; his few mementos, lovingly packed away.

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Group Grieving

A few weeks ago, mom and I visited a grief group, with 8 or 9 others whose hearts were sore and ginger, whose emotions were just below the surface, waiting to gush out.

And the social worker named Clare kindly and gently explained to us what to expect from this strange process of letting go of a beloved one whom we do not quite know how to live without.

The 26-year-old new mom who lost her daddy to a 10-year fight with cancer acknowledged her pain--wishing her dad would have lived 18 days longer to meet his first grandbaby. If only. A well-mannered elderly couple lost their vibrant, 50-year-old boy, when they should have gone first; she kept a quiet composure, her husband spoke only with tears welling over.

A mom lost her teenage girl to leukemia, after a brave three-year struggle. Another lost her once strong husband whose personality loomed bigger than life--his vibrancy replaced with silence as she faces an empty house and an equally empty bed.

There is no efficiency to grieving. It upsets your life, leaving a gaping hole where life has been snuffed away, and all you can do is be willing to face it as it comes.

Yes, Clare explains, when your loved one has cancer you do experience anticipatory grief. It is a way of preparing for what's coming. But you don't get extra credit or a "get out of grief" free card. Your journey is not shortened; you must still walk the road of coming to terms with your loss.

And so we are, one day at a time; one memory here, another there; tears that start and stop, healing and grace that comes through a card or a hug. Serenity that comes through drinking in nature's beauty or sitting quietly with a friend or loved one.

Honestly, I think we are coming through the shock of his absence from us. Now we must be willing to face the pain that will surface and to acknowledge "the greater the love, the loss." I would never take back the richness of our relationships with dad or the depth of our love.

A love well-spent, to be remembered and cherished throughout eternity.

A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.
Psalm 68:5

quote for a Monday

"Earth hath no sorrow that heaven cannot heal."
-Thomas Moore

Remembering you, Dad

Here is the letter/conversation I read at dad's memorial services last week:

Dear dad:

If you were here today, and one of us was to ask how bad things—like cancer—happen to good people—like you, for instance, you would listen sincerely and nod.

You would remind us that long ago the world was broken, and that God never intended things to be broken like this. That it was people—just like us—who made it this way. So death isn’t what we’re made for. And that’s why it hurts like crazy. “That’s why it doesn’t seem right,” you would say. “Because it isn’t right.”

And then you would tell us this story of how all of us will face death—some earlier, some later, but because of one amazing rescue on our behalf, we don’t have to fear it at all.

You would smile and say the moment we breathe our last breath, like you did last Thursday, is the moment the life God intended for us really begins. This is the story of what one God-man did, sacrificing his life in place of ours, so that we could be forgiven of everything we’ve ever thought, done, or said that was wrong. And I can almost hear you now, because you’ve said it so often before: Jesus loved you, Suzie, so much that he paid with his life so you could have life—life FOREVER. A life filled with joy and free of pain.

You repeated this story hundreds of times—and you shared it in different ways, depending on who you were talking to at the time. But the heart and the truth of the story never changed.

Dad, I’ll admit, this story still sounds bigger than life and grander than our wildest dreams, but you staked your life on the belief that it is absolutely true. Truer than anything else you knew.

This story shaped your heart and informed your service. It altered the way you responded to those who meant you harm, and led to a lifestyle of servanthood. It kept you from caring about this world’s wealth and meant that you received the greatest joy from seeing others changed by the story of God’s love for us.

And if you were here right now, you would speak up to remind us that you also had faults and missteps, errors in judgment and times when you acted selfishly. And that, you would say, is exactly why God’s forgiveness and pursuit of us is so amazing; it’s why it changes everything. Because we are a messed-up lot with burdens that sometime threaten to undo us, but God’s story of rescue can bring hope where there is heartache.

This is the truth, dad: you didn’t want to leave us, not yet. You felt you still had ministry to do and people to love and you wondered why in the world your heavenly Father would send you to heaven now. Honestly, it just didn’t seem right.

But as you grew weaker, and we saw the future more clearly, we began to move toward this Story we have grown to love and believe in more than anything else. Dad, once we knew you were headed home, away from us, we began to talk about the breathtaking beauty and reality of the place where you will spend the rest of your days.

We even got excited with you about your homegoing at times, even though we dreaded the thought of saying goodbye.

Our hope and faith has been centered on something we could not see at all. Actually, the character Puddleglum from CS Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia may describe it best, as he tells the White Witch why he will keep on believing, though he doesn’t see the world of Narnia:

“Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things—trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one . . . That’s why I’m going to stand by the play world. I’m on Aslan’s side even if there isn’t any Aslan to lead it. I’m going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn’t any Narnia.”

But there IS a Narnia, dad, isn’t there? Death and evil have been defeated, haven’t they? If you were here today, I have this feeling you would tell us its streets are paved with gold, that its filled with people you knew here on this side who are loving on you. And I think you would also tell us that the sights and sounds you have now trump the best moments you ever experienced or dreamed about on this side of eternity.

I smile, dad, as I imagine you wearing a t-shirt that says, “Wish you were here.” How I do wish we were there, dad. And one day we will be—because we choose to trust in what we can’t see—in what God has done on our behalf.

With love and anticipation,

Your daughter, Suzie

Memories of Dad soon to come

Hello all:

I've had the most of annoying of technical problems, which has prevented me from posting the letter to dad I read at his funeral and memorial services. But it is soon to come--I promise.

For now, please read the article below, and grab your kleenex first.

We have made it this last week through the whirlwind of a visitation, a funeral service in one state, a memorial service in another and a graveside service just for family.

Memories include my two-year-old niece declaring that the funeral home was "heaven" and that "him was sweeping there." An attendant at the funeral service (who had never met my father) broke down and went outside to compose himself. Grown men wept at his casket, his services were filled with holy joy, tears mingled with laughter, and a multitude of loved ones, including parishioners from each of his churches, college roommates, pastor and missionary friends, even those who had meant him only once (from charismatic to United Methodists to police officers) and walked away somehow changed.

He is loved, that is for sure. And he is free...

'Til death do us part -- and soulmates forever

(written 2 weeks before dad's homegoing)

Sooner, or sometimes later, in marriage, things get difficult. I know this not from personal experience, of course, but from watching and listening to others.

Friends have let me in to their relationships, and along the way, painted a picture of less-than-nuptial bliss; the two entities of each couple I’ve known each have their own pasts, their own preferences, and their own ideas of what’s “normal.” And so, the friction that initially sparks chemistry can turn into a fire that burns and illuminates selfishness, competing goals, and differing expectations.

If carefully tended, the fire will not char and destroy the union—but it takes a healthy dose of realism and tenacity. And, in my own opinion, supernatural help from God. Fifty percent of marriages in the US will make it. Fifty percent of those who marry, unfortunately, will divorce for a variety of reasons. (The divorce statistic is supposedly 60% for those who attend church, but don’t get me started as to why that might be.)


I was born into a union that God smiled on, was in the middle of, and one in which he still has his hands on today.

But this couple, my dear parents, could not have been more opposite if one had been born in backwoods Arkansas, and one in fast-paced Manhattan. He was studious, well-read, creative, romantic, highly affectionate, a laid-back procrastinator, and from a blended family on the east side of Michigan. She was also accomplished in her studies, but that seems to be where the similarity ends. She abhorred procrastination and tardiness; she often preferred acts of service over “I love yous” or flowers; she shyed away from spontaneity and was accomplished at balancing everything that needed to be done—and then some. And she was from ‘da U.P. of Michigan. And from a strict Baptist upbringing. Enough said.

Yes, life was interesting for these opposites. But 37 years later, although certain irritations and personality clashes still exist, they are deeply, divinely, in love.

And this is how I know. My father speaks of my mother with tenderness and gratitude these days. My mother speaks of dad with commitment and love and affection. I don’t believe that they started out as soulmates; but they are soulmates now. It’s a mystery born amidst the births of three daughters, and one son who was miscarried. They rubbed shoulders as my dad served as a pastor in several churches; my mom faithfully and willingly serving as his “woman behind the curtain.” Children married and established careers, grandchildren arrived. And no one doubted they would be partners for life. Even when they drove each other crazy!

Now that I look back on things, I don’t believe dad would have made it in ministry without her; I don’t believe mom would have wanted to do life without him.


Dad is feeble now. He has cancer everywhere, and to be honest, he may be going to meet Jesus within just a few weeks. So today, on father’s day, we gathered around his hospice bed, and stroked his legs, and kissed his head, and felt the tears gathering at the corners of our eyes.

And this is how I know my parents are soulmates, that they would do anything for each other.

This weekend, dad was lying there, and my mom entered the room after waking up from a nap and crossed over to his bed. And she leaned over him gently. He said, “Hi sweets, how was your nap?” And she “good.” And he said, “What did you dream about?” And she said “You, hubs.” And he said, “What was the dream?” And she smiled and said “That you were all better!” And he said, “That was a good dream.” And she laid her head down next to his.

And this is the truth, as true as I know how to tell it: my parents have had their ups and downs together, their jubilant highs and their very lows, but they have never given up on loving each other or being for each other. They grabbed on to God first, and knew that they would serve him as one. And they had their moments, they certainly still have their “opposites,” but they knew as long as they lived, they would also have each other.


Don’t you wish you could bottle this love, that you could find it everywhere? Oh, but its rarity makes it infinitely more precious.

And this is the kind of love I have waited for. The “I love you” that is less about red-hot chemistry than candid commitment; the heartfelt affection that seeks to give rather than take; the self-sacrificing heart that seeks to show love through the work of becoming one. When two individuals resolve to give and grow together—and to become soulmates at last.

You may have heard rumors of this kind of love before, or perhaps you have witnessed it or even experienced it yourself. But if you have not—if you, like me, are still waiting for your true love—take heart.

I have seen two people we might label a “contradiction,” love each other unselfishly, imperfectly, but faithfully. And their love glows red hot today, as he lies in his hospice bed, squeezing her hand, and she tends to his needs, lovingly, unselfishly, to the very end.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”
I Corinthians 13:7-8a

Dad goes home

Dear ones:

Dad slipped away peacefully, mercifully, at around 9 am this morning. He went "home"--to heaven--the place he had mentioned for several days after my sister finished reading the 23rd Psalm and as my mom sang the song "Jesus, Jesus, there's just something about that name." One of his favorites.

I was en route to Indiana when he passed and called just in time to hear my mom say he had taken his last breath. But all was as it should be, as I had my special moments with him just last Sunday and felt in my heart that might be the last time we spent together here on earth.
Thank you for holding our family up in prayer through these last many months of trial. We already miss dad's gentle spirit, and his laugh, and his affection, but he is with Jesus now, where he has always belonged. How thankful I am to know this, to be able to celebrate even as we grieve.

With joy and some sadness,
Suzie

"No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him--but God has revealed it to us by his Spirit." I Corinthians 2:9-10

Thoughts for a Thursday

A friend sent me a devotional that included the quote below. It is written by Anne Cetas of RBC Ministries for Our Daily Bread:

“Bad things happen—tragic and horrible things. Good things happen—amazing and miraculous things. And all this happens randomly to us. But it is not random to the God who cradles our aching hearts. He knows … Suffering will come. But God is … larger than the events that seem to contradict God’s goodness.”

We will experience sickness, accidents, sorrow, and death. But we are not on our own. God is in control. “Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all” (Ps. 34:19).

For the love of dark chocolate

Hi, my name is Suzie, and I have an emotional attachment to dark chocolate. (And, no, I'm not a member of Chocoholics Anonymous--yet.) The darker the better. And if by chance I crunch on a cocoa nib, it's the closest thing to heaven.

Last Christmas, I received an amazing array of European-style truffles from an author who found them at the Chocolate Fetish in Asheville, NC. If you're wondering how to tell what's the really good stuff, visit http://www.chocolatefetish.com/

Needless to say, these truffles still exist in my imagination (and in the photo above). They were that good.

You might argue with me, and you certainly deserve to have your own opinion. My opinion though, is this: dark, beautiful chocolate creates a seritonin rush so divine that I believe chocolates should be prescribed as an antidepressant. Or at the very least the ultimate cure for a lousy day!

The bottom line is this: the rush from dark chocolate makes me deliriously happy. And when I thank God for simple pleasures, this one sometimes tops the list.

I can't quote you chapter and verse, but I believe within me that chocolate must exist in heaven. Or at least a substance like it, no matter what they call it. Perfection. Divinity. The ultimate. Whatever.

The other night, after a really long and hard day, I found a gift bag on my doorstep. I took it inside and emptied the contents on the floor. There was a lovely coupling of Bath and Body honeysuckle lotion and shower gel. It's really great and I use it often. But honestly, what brought tears to my eyes was the dark chocolate bar.

It was as if God reached down, through my anonymous friend, and said, "It's been a rough day, a rough week, a rough year, in fact. But I love you and I know you, and things will be OK. Enjoy this little treat on me."

And that is the story of my emotional attachment to dark chocolate. What's your chocolate story?

"Giving chocolate to others is an intimate form of communication, a sharing of deep, dark secrets." -Milton Zelman, publisher of "Chocolate News"

The irony of the urgent

Here I am, down in Indiana with mom and dad, hoping to offer some comfort and cheer. Hoping to make the burden a bit lighter, if that's possible. Hoping that the simplicity of my presence might help them breathe easier, sleep harder, and forget some of the difficulties the big "C" brings day after day after day.

I knew as I was driving that dad would look different than the last time I saw him; he can no longer turn his head, he lies exclusively in his hospice bed, and he just today received a catheter. Small movements bring great pain. And so I ever-so-lightly kiss the top of his bare head. And he says one of his favorite phrases: "'Preciate it." It is all he can do.

I comment on his fuzzy chin, and he offers to shave. With a smile, I tell him it doesn't matter, not at all. He is fine just the way he is. And within moments he is asleep again.

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The hospice literature tells us that in the last few months of a person's life, they begin to pull inward. They will stop keeping up with the television news, they will seldom be in the mood for a visit, they will doze off for most of the day.

And so I realize that every effort dad makes to interact with a child or grandchild, with a well-meaning parishioner, with a brother, with a friend, with a man he led to Christ, are precious gifts to us. They do not come naturally; they occur only because of intense effort on his part.

In the last few weeks, the visitors have been virtually non-stop--and don't get me wrong, I'm most grateful.

Still, it occurs to me how sad it is to wait to make these moments until the end of a person's life. Now I look back on my times with dad with fresh gratefulness; some days I regret I didn't drive to see him more often, that I didn't live closer the last few years, etc.

But mostly I learned from him to express my appreciation and love to others. As he showered affection on my sisters and I, I felt free to express my love to him, often and repeatedly. It was his way. It is perhaps the greatest gift he has given us. And in return we loved to give it back to him with our own expressions of fondness.

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And so, this week, I felt an urge to gather those I care about close to me. I wanted to tell them I enjoy their company; to tell them I admire their fortitude, wisdom, and compassion; to tell them that I treasure time spent in their presence. And that I hope our friendships and family relationships continue to thrive and grow.

If you read this entry, will you do me a favor? Will you call your mom or dad today and remind them that you're glad they are your parents? Or if you're not quite there in your relationship, will you reach out to them in some way, to let them know you're there, and that you do care. These people who have given us life, and nurtured our growth, and put up with our personality quirks, and accept us anyway are amazing.

Perhaps your parents are gone, or estranged for some reason, and you have already walked this journey of saying goodbye or parting ways for some reason. But I believe in my heart that there is someone in your life whom you value. We hesitate to give too much of ourselves emotionally for so many reasons; but self-protectiveness does not bring life. It does not lead to real living. It's just existing.

And you want more. And you should. If by any chance this entry prompts you to move towards someone in your life, will you let me know?

Peace,
Suzie

Living and Dying

My prayer seems awkward, but it rings true: "Father, help us to continue to breathe. Help us not to hold our breathe in these our last few months together as a family. Make us experts at showing love to our dad. Work supernaturally in this transition as dad has one foot planted here, one foot reaching out for his forever tomorrow."

And I believe in my heart that God will answer this request--it is, after all, his heart to see his children lovingly home to heaven. He is already showing up. He will show up next week when new limitations present themselves, and ultimately, he will usher our dear father home. The end for us here means a new celebration in heaven. I imagine that some of those dad knew here, some of those he made an impact on, may already be waiting in anticipation. It brings tears and a smile. As it should.

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Picture 1 is me and one-week-old baby Andrew. Isn't he amazing? He slept on my chest and when I started to sing lullabies he opened his eyes and moved his head around.

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Picture 2 is dad with his Ozzy Osbourne look, holding Cassie. The hat looks kind of like real hair; Cassie, who is only 2 1/2, loves to sit on grandpa's lap and snuggle. He says that brings him the most comfort of all.

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Picture 3 is dad and I at the IMAX to see Spiderman. Thanks to my sister Christi and my brother-in-laws for helping to make this happen!

quote for the day

"One need not be a servant to be able to serve."
-Victor Frankl

A bouncing new baby boy!

The Cross family has yet to bear a small baby, but this one takes the cake! Andrew Reed was born Friday afternoon, weighing 10 lbs. 6 ounces! Amazingly, the delivery went fine and my sister Julie is recovering at home now. Attached is a picture of dad holding Andrew.

He and mom traveled two hours on Friday to see the baby, and I’m so very glad they made it. Dad has declined quite steadily over the last four weeks. He uses a lift chair now exclusively and a wheelchair. Hospice was called in yesterday for in-home care.

Until this weekend, dad was not ready to accept his declining health. He was still hoping that he might regain some mobility. He is now seeing what we realized several weeks ago. It is time for him to be gracious with himself as he walks this journey into the arms of Jesus.

If you are praying, pray that hospice will be a help in making him comfortable. Pray that my mom will have a supernatural strength to deal with the situation. Pray that we will know if it would be wise to move both of them up to Grand Rapids to stay with me. And finally, pray that I will be quickly healed of the respiratory virus that I have had for a week now.

It’s impossible for me to explain how our heavenly Father is holding and directing us right now. He feels so very near, and indeed he is. (James 4:8)

Visit www.praybigbook.com

If you've ever wondered how to pray Scripture, how to pray more boldly, or how to pray for both little and big things, this is the book for you. Check out the web site and be sure to view the video for a laugh. This is a book I've been working on for several months, and it will release on July 1.

Plenty of free prayer resources on the web site, too. You'll especially like the free ecard that tells a friend "I Prayed for You Today."

Let me know what you think.

Oh, yes, and what do you think of this quote from CS Lewis:
"Your book bill ought to be your biggest extravagance." ~CS Lewis

Update on Dad's journey

We continue to covet your prayers. Dad has been growing progressively weaker over the last three weeks or so. We’ve made adjustments by getting him a lifeline button, having a nurse in a few times a week, etc.

Last night he had to go into the emergency room because the strength in his left leg had deteriorated so significantly. He is back home now, but it is now extremely difficult for him to get up from his chair. It may be time for us to consider hospice or to get some more help.

This is the verse I’ve prayed over our family for some time:
“You brought me into a spacious place; you rescued me because you delighted in me.” Psalm 18:19

Ironically, the spacious place dad is being led to comes through a journey of pain and progressive weakness. But I believe with all my heart that God’s preparing a place that will be spacious, vibrant, and perfect for dad.

Prayers that we would respond well as he takes this journey are appreciated. Especially for mom, with mother’s day coming this weekend. And his grandson’s birth is just a week away now. We will celebrate these moments with abandon, and then we will pray that God gives us the strength to graciously release him when the time comes.

Crazy, crazy

I'm all for spontaneity, but this week I'm craving a bit more routine.

We started a new Bible study on Sunday at my apartment, I had a yearly review at work, a visit to the amazing tulip festival in Holland, Michigan, two all-day meetings, summer clothes shopping, teaching water aerobics, blogging, a mother/daughter banquet, and a visit to Indiana. Next week I will return to a life of sanity and regular exercise.

Hey, y'all come back next week when I'll have more time to say something meaningful. Word up. (For some reason, all this chaos brings me back to the 80s.) Ha!

Quote for the day

“I am grateful that I started writing at a very early age, before I realized what a daring thing it is to do, to set down words on paper, to attempt to tell a story, create characters. We have to be braver than we think we can be, because God is constantly calling us to be more than we are, to see through plastic sham to living, breathing reality, and to break down our defenses of self-protection in order to be free to receive and give love.” ~Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water

Guitar Heroes Rock!

OK, I've taken leave of my senses. Sunday night I was attending a barbeque with some church friends. When I heard of a strange video game called "Guitar Heroes" I found myself walking down into the basement...and into a whole new world. Really.

I didn't think I could fall for a cheap video game. But hey, we all have our quirks. I heard tell one of the 30-something guys from church is buying the game for "his 6-year-old." Yeah, right. We are forming a group for the guitar-hero addicted.

So here's the gist: you hold a pretend plastic guitar while watching the screen. It's very much like Dance Dance Revolution if you've ever encountered that. There are colored buttons that you push and then you "strum" a white plastic button. The key is to do this all in rhythm so you can be a guitar hero. You "play" through two dancing rockers on the screen. One of them even had purple tresses. Oh my.

I started slow, since I'm used to piano playing, but not guitar strumming. But once the beat took hold, I started moving a bit. And by the end of the 2nd song, my guitar was pointed upward and I was in a phrase...rocking out. You had to see it to believe it.

http://www.guitarherogame.com/gh2/

A note to all: I don't condone all the music lyrics used on this game. Be selective. And rock on! :)

Time at home

Dad was in the hospital from Thursday till Sunday. Now he's resting at home again, in his comfy tan recliner, glad to be living free from the constraints of being watched and prodded 24/7.

This weekend the cancer doctor told dad he can stop chemo and radiation at any time--these treatments will not help significantly to halt the cancer, and who wants to live with side effects indefinitely?

Dad will have one more chemo to see how it goes. Just two 1/2 weeks until his grandson arrives, so we're all anticipating how wonderful it will be to share this new life as a family.

It's no exaggeration to say that this part of the journey through Dad's cancer will be one of the most difficult. I pray we'll have the strength and wisdom to help him live graciously, with dignity and comfort, in the remaining time we have together.

This weekend, I reflected on the fact that I'm so very glad dad knows Jesus--not just casually, but as a friend, brother, and Savior. I'm so glad I know Jesus, too. It makes the pain somehow bearable, even though the pain is very real.

Stay tuned for a more light-hearted entry on my favorite new video game...guitar heroes. :)

I'll be back soon.

Living through Pain

After awhile, with cancer, it is hard to be cheerful. There are many blessings in our lives, to be sure, but constant, excruciating pain, not only wears on the patient--it wears on all who wish they could relieve it for him.

That said, thank you for your prayers. They are so very important, as the tumors on dad's neck area have grown, causing constant pain. They have doubled up the medication, and so he is more comfortable at present, but so tired he cannot function well.

Mom is tired as well--and we're so very grateful for prayers offered to strengthen, sustain, and comfort her during this time.

I will be heading down to their home on Saturday evening and returning Monday evening. Please pray that I will be able to help and comfort both of them during this time.

Here is a wonderful quote that one of my author's shared, following the tragedy in Virginia this week:

We are not alone, we are more than flesh and bone,
What is seen will pass away, what is not is going home…
I believe in the holy shores of uncreated light,
I believe there is power in the blood.
And all of the death that ever was if you set it next to life
I believe it barely fills a cup –
Cause I believe there’s power in the blood…
When you lay me down to die, you lay me down to live.
-by musician Andrew Peterson

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”
-Jesus

Return to Chemo

Thank you for the many prayers you have offered up, for dad, and for our whole family. He was extremely weak this last Easter Sunday, but he read in church, and fought through the pain to stand up, to smile, to show kindness to others.

Today he is feeling quite a bit better. And that is how it goes with cancer. You never know quite what to expect. Some days he experiences less pain, some days he experiences more. And so we take each day that we have been given as a gift. A gift that brings pain, but reminds us of everything we believe in. Reminds us that following Jesus is not about platitudes and empty promises. It is real, eternal hope.

Dad re-enters chemotherapy today, and we're hoping the treatments might lessen the pain of the bone cancer in his spine.

And if you wouldn't mind praying specifically, that he will not get an infection following the chemo that would land him back in the hospital. How very wonderful it would be for him to be able to stay at home.

Thank you for your love, support, and prayers.

Gratefully, Suzie

He died, but three days later...

Quiet, contemplative, and sacred, the Good Friday service held an air of both sorrow and an undercurrent of joy.

Gathered in a small library at a local Covenant church, lights dimmed, scores of candles bright, we remembered his sacrifice. A piano led us through the liturgy. A violin crooned, sometimes mournful, sometimes soft and warm.

I was transported as I closed my eyes, and the pianist reminded us that he was pierced for our transgressions. In fact, we were the ones who persecuted him, we were the ones who brought him to Calvary, and unwittingly nailed him to the tree:

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
Jesus, all of my vile thoughts and deeds stare me in the face on Good Friday...
he was crushed for our iniquities;
My eyes begin to water as I imagine you whipped, tortured, beaten beyond recognition..."no, no!," I want to scream. My sins cannot be causing this disgrace....
The punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
Nails pounding, soldiers spitting, women weeping, "Father forgive them...Into my hands I commit my Spirit." And then you were dead. For us. For me.
and by his wounds we are healed.
Your hands, your feet, your side, your sweet head, your whole body smitten with the wounds that should have been mine. And in that moment, I was eternally healed.
Isaiah 53:5

Oh, the pain Mary must have felt in her chest, a real physical ache, a sorrow beyond all sorrows.

Until three days hence....

After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb.
Rabbi, our friend, the man who valued us more than any other man, where are you? How can we honor your sacrifice? How can we live with this horrible ache?
There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. 4The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men.
Oh, Lord, what can this be?
The angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: 'He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.' Now I have told you."
Risen!?! Oh, how quickly can my sandals carry this good news...how quickly, Mary, can we run?
The women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples.
My heart pounds, but I cannot slow down...I cannot keep this joy inside!
Suddenly Jesus met them. "Greetings," he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, "Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me."
It is so hard to let go of his garment, of his hand. "We love you more than life, Rabbi. But must we go? We would never leave your side. Oh, well, if you insist. Thomas will never believe this...."
Matthew 28

Jesus is Risen! Forever and always. From here to eternity. He's risen in my heart, he's seated in the heavens, he calls my name, he intercedes for me, he waits while he prepares me a place.

He is risen, indeed.

The Joy of Jelly Bellys

You can tell a lot about a person by the way they eat jelly bellys.

Really.

For starters, everyone has their favorite flavor...tutti frutti, buttered popcorn, pina colada, or jalapeno. What's your pleasure? If you're conservative and predictable, you may opt for the standard flavors like blueberry, or lime, or orange.

If you're a spontaneous daredevil, on the other hand, you might find yourself creating your own on-the-spot recipes: kiwi & orange, strawberry & juicy pear, toasted marshmallow and chocolate. You could even go wild and concoct a licorice-strawberry cheesecake-margarita combo. (Get more "recipes" at jellybelly.com.)

I myself am either well-rounded or indecisive when it comes to jelly belly flavors, depending on how you look at it. I buy the standard mix, and I want to taste EVERY flavor (except cinnamon and licorice).

Sometimes I eat them slowly, sometimes I pop them while reading. But I'm in the habit of eating only one at a time. I want to absorb the bursting flavor and experience it to its fullest. Nancy from my water aerobics class says this makes me self-disciplined. Ha! For crying out loud, I'm eating pure sugar!

That said, jelly bellys for me are a rare indulgence. I bought them this last weekend because I knew my family would share them with me. And by the way, they are the new "reward" of choice for my two-year-old niece who is currently being potty-trained. She's partial to the "pink" ones--relying on color only to make her selection.

Well, enough is enough. I've beat this horse to death, and this might be the last time I ever speak of jelly bellys on my blog. It's time to move on to something more meaningful...like Easter.

That said, if you do happen upon these tasty morsels, I recommend placing them in a glass dish, lounging in a recliner, and slowly sucking up the delicious goodness. OK, I'm done. :)