A bright spot (if you like green)

Amidst the turmoil of the last few months, a small miracle has occurred. I have been published in the bestselling Zondervan Women's Devotional Bible. The Bible, formerly known as "the pink Bible" has been transformed with a funky new green cover.

Not to worry, I didn't alter the text of God's Word--just contributed a few devotionals! :) And yes, it is still published in the NIV. I especially like what they've done with some "30-day" Bible readings on different topics in the back.

See for yourself at a store near you. (This time, you'll actually find my bio in the back. Scary!)

Surgery Ahead...

Today Dad enters his second chemo treatment. We're praying that this time he will not contract pneumonia or any other bug that's floating around.

Also, the neurosurgeon has scheduled his brain surgery for next Tuesday, December 5. At that time, they will perform regular surgery (not with a laser as previously indicated) and will remove the 1/2-inch mass that is there. The Dr. feels confident that it will be easy to get to and that the surgery poses little risk.

I'll probably be heading down to my parents Monday night after work, so I can be up in the hospital with mom and dad during the surgery.

Thank you for your continuous prayers. They are a boon to my spirit.

"May the God of hope bring you such joy & peace in your faith that the power of the Holy Spirit will remove all bounds to hope."
Romans 15:13

Thanksgiving (& Praise)

We're enjoying a bit of a reprieve, as dad is feeling somewhat better and has now figured out a way to get himself out of his chair by putting his weight on another chair in front of him.

How thankful we are to see him a bit more comfortable and mobile. He uses a cane always and relies on prescription painkillers that help him deal with the shooting pains in his hip and pelvic area (caused from bone cancer).

This weekend, we had a visit that caught us by surprise from dad's family. His half brother and his wife, his brother and his wife, and his stepsister and her husband took the 5 hour trip down to my parents' home to see dad. We do not see them very often, so we were touched by their thoughtfulness and the affection and care they are showing. Although my step grandmother (now in her eighties) was unable to come, she sent money and fruitcake, along with other goodies. Dad feels well-loved all around.

Prayer concerns: dad receives his second chemo treatment Wednesday, November 29, and will likely have brain surgery the week after. Please pray that he will be able to maintain his strength and that he'll continue to feel the deep peace that he has been experiencing.

Also, I would greatly appreciate your prayers on behalf of the rest of the family. It is a trying time, and it is easy to take each for granted and to take our frustration or weariness out on each other. Pray that we would love each other well and draw closer during this time.

Finally, please don't take your loved ones for granted. Love them well now, and tell them so. Don't let life get so busy that you cannot make time for these important moments. Live fully; breathe deeply. King Solomon said in Ecclesiastes "However many years a man may live, let him enjoy them all."

Dad swells with pride and appreciation for everything we do for him. A few weeks ago I bought him a small ceramic heart that simply says "Life is better because you are my dad." That sums it up. Cancer is teaching all of us how to love well.

With much gratitude for your support, notes, and prayers...

Suzie

A touch of comic relief

Worst quote Suzie's ever heard on a date:
"I deserve to be remarried because God wants me to be happy...and he says to be fruitful and multiply." :)

My two-year-old niece's comment after seeing a large Santa decoration:
"Jesus!" Hmmm...Father Christmas, the Father of all living things...looks like she needs a bit more Sunday School.

Visiting Dad

This weekend I made another trek down here to Indiana to visit with my parents. Dad now stays on the ground floor, usually in his comfy recliner. Once a day in the morning he makes his way up the steps to take a shower upstairs. (The scary part is when he comes down...)

Gratefully, dad regained a bit of energy this weekend, after being extremely weak from the pneumonia and therapies. He now has the energy to watch television or sometimes read in between resting. (I've brought him an entire season of MacGyver on DVD, so that should keep him busy for a bit.)

This morning, he actually went to his church and sat in the second row. People there were so thrilled to see him, and they all signed up to help mom out for a few hours here and there so she can get a break.

Continued prayers are appreciated, as he has not fully recovered from the pneumonia and is constantly wheezing. Mom needs prayer for sleep at night and stamina as his primary caregiver. She is such a trooper. (This Monday through Wednesday alone, she'll accompany dad to 5 doctor appointments.)

As Thanksgiving week begins, I am thankful for small joys: the pleasure of holding Dad's hand as I walked him a few hundred feet home from their church. I'm so thankful he's my father; so thankful for every moment we can treasure. So thankful for good memories.

Hugs to you,
Suzie

We Need Your Prayers

In a short time of about 6 weeks, Dad has been diagnosed with cancer throughout his body. Today, he is having even more difficulty getting up and down. It now takes two people to assist him.

This morning a visiting nurse came in to check on him.

My parents will have to make some very difficult decisions in the next few weeks...the house in Indiana where they currently live does not have bathing facilities on the main floor. And it does not appear that my mom will be able to take care of him alone.

Please pray for a)wisdom b)provision and c)a deep and abiding peace for mom and dad.

Psalm 146: 13b
"The Lord is faithful to all his promises and loving toward all he has made."

We Need Your Prayers

In a short time of about 6 weeks, Dad has been diagnosed with cancer throughout his body. Today, he is having even more difficulty getting up and down. It now takes two people to assist him.

This morning a visiting nurse came in to check on him.

My parents will have to make some very difficult decisions in the next few weeks...the house in Indiana where they currently live does not have bathing facilities on the main floor. And it does not appear that my mom will be able to take care of him alone.

Please pray for a)wisdom b)provision and c)a deep and abiding peace for mom and dad.

Psalm 146: 13b
"The Lord is faithful to all his promises and loving toward all he has made."

Dad Comes Home

Dad returned home from the hospital late yesterday afternoon. He is still quite wobbly, and he has significant swelling in his feet and ankles.

He now has a walker and will likely be getting a wheelchair sometime today. In addition, a therapist is advising them on how to rearrange their home so dad does not have to go up the stairs. If he falls, he is in great danger of breaking some bones due to the steroids he is on.

Please pray for grace for my dad to accept these huge changes. My mom also asked for prayer last night that she would not be afraid. She so hates to see dad this way and she's afraid he will fall.

Thank you for lifting her up. She is a dear servant of God, trying to make the best of this trying time.

Also, prayers for me are appreciated as I will be going there again this weekend, and then for an extended Thanksgiving weekend as well.

May God bring all of us into a spacious place. (Psalm 18:19)

Dad Goes to the Hospital

Dad grew very weak on Friday and Saturday (following a chemo treatment on Wednesday). It became very difficult for him to get up and down or to get around at all.

Saturday evening he said he thought he had a fever, and we discovered it was 101 degrees. We took him to the ER, and after a chest X-ray, we were told he has pneumonia. He is now in the Oncology unit and is receiving intravenous antibiotics. In addition, he has pain now in his hip bone and his elbow bone and is being treated with painkillers.

The doctors expect him to be in the hospital for 3 or 4 days. Please pray for my mom especially as they will now have to arrange their house for him to stay on the main level. Changes are happening more quickly than we expected, but still, dad’s spirits are strong, and we know God’s presence is with him.

Although there doesn’t seem to be much we can do, the prayers of many are bringing peace to us. Dad’s also a very affectionate guy, and he is being showered with hugs and kisses from his family. Although it’s hard to see him like this, we cherish all the times we have with him.

Chemotherapy #1 Completed

Dad completed his first 3 1/2 hour chemotherapy treatment yesterday. He must not have felt too bad, because he ate a sandwich right afterwards.

The Dr. confirmed earlier prognosis that the cancer is throughout his body and that his time is limited. How limited no one can say for sure.

I will go down to Indiana to spend some time with my parents this Friday and Saturday. Thank you to all for the many prayers that are covering my parents and I. We are in need of your intercession, and we feel so very supported through it. Thank you for walking this new journey with us.

Dad Begins Chemotherapy

Turns out dad got the "chemo talk" yesterday and anti-nausea meds, but he won't start chemo till Wednesday. It will be a three-hour session.

He is swollen from the steroids, but now he will only have to take them once or twice every three weeks, right before his chemo treatment.

Dad's a real trooper, and not complaining, even though he's weak. He and mom are in good spirits.

Peace to you...

Dying and Living - an update on Suzie's Dad

About 4 weeks or so ago, dad collapsed one morning at 6:15 am. He was playing Solitaire on the computer, his usual way to pass any sleepless hours, but he doesn't even remember logging on the computer that morning. I'm glad he doesn't remember.

Dad collapsed with a thud and mom found him seconds later. He was unconscious until waking in the ambulance. My heart soared when I heard he woke up--when I knew that God was giving me another chance to see him and to tell him how much I love him, how much his influence has meant to me.

What we thought was a stroke turned into a cancer diagnosis within days. He now has cancer in his lungs, his brain, his ribs, his spine, and one of his hips. Remarkably, he is free from pain. He has now completed 15 treatments or radiation, and he will start chemo on Monday. An MRI this Thursday will determine how effect the radiation has been in treating his brain cancer. Then we will find out when he will have laser brain surgery. The days are filled with doctors, and the steroids have made him quite weak.

It is difficult for him to get in and out of the car, and his muscles show signs of weakning from the steroids. Mercifully, he will be done taking the steroid pills tomorrow.

His hair (what he had of it) is halfway gone, and his stomach is sometimes upset from his medication. But his spirit is strong and resilient. Last night he told me he is going to live the rest of his life with intentionality. He's always been a gentle person, but he is more bold about his faith. He talks openly about preparing things for mom and us after he's gone.

Someone told me recently that experiences like this make you very weak and very strong. I know exactly what they mean now. I have passed the point of tears, but there is a knowledge that has settled in. Dad may not be there for so many moments in the future where I would like him to be...but he is here now.

We are all dying, all of us...but we are all also living. Dad is living well, and I want to do whatever I can to encourage him to continue on this way. Literally, thousands of people are praying for my dear dad and our family, and I feel this huge support, almost as if I am being held up, as if people are accompanying me on this journey. I know I am not alone.

Thank you, too, for your prayers and support. Each e-mail brings a boost to my spirit, each card or visit or walk helps me stay buoyant. I am doing well, and my heavenly Father is faithful to meet my needs and to meet dad's needs.

I will post often, so feel free to check back anytime. Blessings to you.

sunshine, sand, and sky

Lawn chairs sunk down into the sand along the Lake Michigan beach. The Gary, Indiana, shoreline was covered with onlookers as the waves roared and the sunshine warmed our faces. Just the right temperature--in the air and in my heart.

My parents and I were attending an air show with aerial stunts that defied imagination. I was transfixed, captivated, and content. It may have seemed a small pleasure to some of those plopped around me, a beer in one hand, a cell phone in another. But to me it brought extreme pleasure.

There is so much joy to be had in the calm after the storm.

An update

It was one of those workweeks where everything piles up, and a multitude of projects and meetings and deadlines loom, and Suzie starts snapping at innocent people who interrupt.

And so it was that with knotted shoulders and bags hastily packed, I jumped in my Mercury Mystique and hit the cruise control with the throng down the highway, on my way to Portage, Indiana.

My parents house offers respite and comfort, but this time I was slightly unnerved, remembering...

Remembering just three months ago, when my visit found me writhing in mental and emotional pain. It was as if my fight with depression officially ended there--I could no longer summon the energy to pretend it was not winning. I collapsed.

I remember lying in the bed I am sleeping in this weekend and feeling powerless to get up. My attempts to rally positive thoughts were furtive and almost daily calls to the Dr. were necessary to find the right medication, to give me a dosage that would ensure sleep, to make sure I would not do something foolish.

American Poet Jane Kenyon struggled with bipolar disorder and grave depressions that lasted for months on end. She talks of cutting herself completely off from society and not being able to call a plumber for repairs. Not being able to do the simplest things. And that's how those five weeks were for me. Just getting dressed was an accomplishment.

The interlude seems both distant and not-so-far behind me now. I am careful, but not afraid with my health. I am optimistic and sometimes energetic. I struggle, but I am regaining my strength.

The difference is this: when the darkness came on before, I would berate myself and blame myself for my illness. Although this is one of the most counterproductive things a depressed person can do, most of us are bonafide perfectionists: we simply don't know another way.

My Turning Point

Several years ago, I was reintroduced to the concept of who God is. I prayed a pray when I was a child, inviting Jesus to save me from my sins, so I thought I knew God. And I did--but not really. I didn't realize that this person, my heavenly Father, was not out to get me. I knew much of his holiness and too little of his love. I felt I never did win his approval, though I tried very hard.

Until I stopped trying, and the real heavenly Father showed up. It was at this point that I finally accepted the grace he offers me. I am still learning to do this today. Because, truth be told, he does accept me. Yes, he's even wild about me! Nothing I can do will change this. I can follow this amazing God because I love him. Not to prove anything.

And so, this time, when the torrent of emotions wracked my body, mind and soul, I offered myself grace. There were days when Jesus watched as I lay there in bed, seeking to comfort me. And I knew for sure he expected nothing more out of me that day. I had nothing to give.

There were days when I was able to get up and shower and go for a walk, and he smiled at my efforts. Even though they seemed meager from the outside looking in.

And there were times when I was able to summon the energy to drive to a nearby nursing home to visit someone recovering from surgery and just sit there, or read a funny story, or listen to her heart. And I felt he knew what it took for me to get there and he was pleased.

At times, I had overwhelming, negative thoughts, asking myself why God was allowing my depression. At times I just rested and waited for it to pass. At times I was so anxious I wanted to be through, even though I would not end my life.

And he knew. And he watched. And he moved. I am on my way to a place where these memories will become more removed--but not the memory of embracing his grace. This will stay put. His mercies are new every morning.

I smile as I type this because I could not live without them--and neither could you.

My Slow Ascent

Depression lurks in my closet, and those who know me well, know that usually it stays put there.

That for the most part, I am a content, loving woman who looks for the best in herself, in others, and in her God. I've never met anyone who guesses that I have had a struggle with depression--I have met others who have told me it isn't possible that I have ever experienced it based on their impression of who I am.

But occasionally, partially due to my personality, and partially due to undeniable genetics, the closet begins to bulge. Over the years my coping skills have grown, too, and so I suppose I thought that any bulge would recede--that life issues would right themselves if I responded properly. And I felt I was responding well.

Mid-may I cried one day and thought that perhaps I couldn't stop. And I wasn't sleeping much at all, so I went to see my Dr. and asked him to help me sleep, and he tried, but even though it looked like I would pull through, the emotional torrent came crashing through the closet and I was caught away, whirling, back into a cycle that leaves me unable to cope, unable to function at work or at life.

And so a forced visit to my parents' house brought me to my knees. And new medications made me experience a pain I have never quite seen, not to mention the severity of the side effects. Within another week, the Dr. went back to an old medication. It had made my hair fall out in the past, can cause weight gain and liver toxicity, but it would work if it had worked before.

It is working. Without the intimate details, I am back at work, despite the fact that my body is nowhere near back to "normal," but it will be. It will come back. Things will be joyful again. And I will emerge praying to God that the closet will be bolted. That there will be no more bulging.

You can see, friends, that it is a slow ascent. But indeed, I've been ascending. And when occasionally I've slipped backward for a day or two, before ascending again, I claim Psalm 138:3
The moment I called out, you stepped in; you made me bold and stouthearted.

I cannot explain to you how much stronger I am on the inside as the result of these times; and so I cry out that I want to be more stouthearted--to be able to withstand trial and to extend a loving, helping hand to others who need to walk through their own.

There is something real happening inside this time; a surrendering to the knowing that if I acknowledge this struggle I can be used in the future to help other weary souls. For years, I dreamed up a million other ways God could use me. A friend recently asked me why I get up in the morning.

I thought it was a big question for me right now, but it's not, really. To find that thing that God has for me to do, and to do it. I don't know what this looks like, and I don't need to know today. But I'm finally tired of fighting what he might have, what he might be planning if I would just be available to do things I have not had the heart for up till now.

It is an open struggle now, and it is one that I no longer feel the need to hide. I hope others may come out of hiding as a result.

Depression really can't lurk when we bring it out of the closet, when we name it, find healing, and bravely continue on our journey, moving beyond it.

Thanks to the many who have been faithful in prayer, cards, etc. Much love from me! And hopefully brighter news soon.

Love,
Suzie

Knit-Wits and Other Niceties

I never knew how knitting needles work. And quite frankly, I never thought I could operate them myself. It requires patience, some logic, a certain amount of fortitude--and did I mention patience?

For I am not a domestic diva, and the mere thought of sewing or cross-stitch or detailed work of any kind can make me crazy. Without even trying a thing, I feel weak and inadequate.

And yet...the ladies of the Knit-Wits group in Breckenridge, CO, accepted me into their circle one evening a few weeks ago, while I was visiting a good friend. I felt like an outsider and a fraud. As I watched their various needles clicking and moving, yarn being carefully set into motion and pattern, I felt that I could not do this thing. But I was wrong.

My initial attempt at fashioning a dishcloth was painful and clumsy. My smile turned to a grimace and some naughty words might have easily slipped from my tongue. Getting it takes being really, really bad at it on your first few rows. But it is OK to be bad at first--it is the necessary precursor to eventually being good--or at least fully capable.

And so the next day I found myself at the shop "What's Needling U?" in Frisco, CO. The dear elderly store clerk, who I'm sure knew many unnecessary things like where someone first discovered how to harvest wool for yarn, and how to knit intricate doilies with sewing needles (ha!), did her best sales job on me.

"These large plastic needles will pass through airport security," she said. "You'll want to buy your supplies here because knitting is ideal for travel time," and then she told me I could knit a scarf with just one skein of gorgeous baby pink alpaca wool yarn. I was hooked--literally. Twenty-one dollars and some odd cents later I walked out feeling funny. Could I really knit?

But it turns out I could, and as my friend Carla showed me how to start this scarf, I kept reminding myself of what those dear "knit-wits" proclaim: "Never, ever be afraid to rip out your stitches."

An elderly woman and I, both knitting in the Denver airport terminal, were instant friends. She did her best to finagle a seat next to me, and I begin to see how very important this new hobby could be. An instant connector, a secret knitting society of sorts, opens when needles are pulled out of the bag, and it is considered practically an insult if a neighboring knitter does not comment on your project or at the very least the smashing color of your yarn. Really. I'm learning this.

But the woman could not obtain a seat next to me. So as it turned out I sat next to a young twenty-something who was recently kicked out of Bob Jones University, and it was here that I discovered something else about knitting. It allows for conversation that might not occur otherwise. For as this young man and I sat talking, we both watched my knitting, and it opened up topics you might not normally approach with a complete stranger.

And I told him not to take it personally, the whole being kicked out of Bob Jones, and he told me all about his girlfriend he was going to visit in Michigan. And then he complimented me on my knitting and how much I had accomplished in just one flight...

Just a few days ago I realized that I am not the type of knitter who will knit without other people around. And so I visited the Thursday night knitting circle just down the road, and at first I felt like I was in the cafeteria in 7th grade, and I felt completely strange for entering this room full of strangers who were knitting capes and slippers, and handbags and baskets. And me with a half-finished plain pink scarf.

But after a minute of them not noticing me, they casually suggested I pull up a chair, and I sat down. And I learned very fascinating things, like the fact that it takes 1/3 more yarn to crochet something than to knit it. And they all encouraged me, each and every one of them commenting on the beautiful pink alpaca wool yarn I was using, as if I had made it myself. And I felt comfortable then, and a little bit smug, and almost domestic. Almost.

Will I ever aspire to greater heights--to felted slippers and tote bags, sweaters and gloves? Who can say. But just for today, I will pick up my needles and do something with my hands that shows progress and a little bit of skill. And did I mention...patience?

One of Two

Sometimes I walk around and think about what it would be like to be one of two. That is, to have a partner holding my hand--not to comfort me only, but just because.

And I daydream about this, even though I know two-dom isn't perfect, and it holds its own challenges and quirks and problems, too. True, there isn't much conflict when I answer only to myself. "Let's see, me, what do I want to wear today or cook or read or play?"

And yet these choices can be lonely ones; I would gladly acquiesce to my invisible half. The one who has not arrived yet. The one whom I believe will come someday, but whose time of arrival is completely a mystery to me: a conundrum, if you will.

I do not completely understand why his arrival has been delayed; why it doesn't perfectly match up with my desire. I would like to ask God about this and to receive an answer that perfectly placates me and gives me reassurance and hope.

But at the end of the day, the year, the decade, He is God and I am not. He's the God who redirected me out of relationships and into one-dom again, and He is the God who knows all my inside parts -- the deep, secret, dark and beautiful parts that only He can understand and appreciate fully.

No matter how perfect the two-dom may be, my human lover will never get me this way. And even though he might be valiant and persistent, and may try to dig deeper and to know me for my true self, he can never reach the core. He may love me well, but he can never fully know Suzie.

Sometimes I fear that I will ask of this man too much: that I will expect him to be God for me. It is so very tempting to look for a savior in romantic relationships, even though I know very well my Savior has already won my heart. He's already saved the day. And His love answers my soul question. He has spoken what I needed to hear; I am desirable, his daughter, flawed but adored, and secure forevermore.

Reminders that he has spoken this truth to me are plentiful if I do not shut my eyes, my ears, and my heart. If my emotions do not run away from me, if I do not retreat into self-pity. If I realize it's OK to be lonely sometimes, it's OK to desire my other half, it's OK because my Abba-Father isn't going anywhere. He understands.

And so occasionally I indulge in thinking about being one of two.

And sometimes the loneliness recedes...
When I walk a small dog as I did today.
When I gently cuddle, and feed, and change my newborn niece.
When I hike amid a pine forest and feel God speaking to me personally.
When my roommate asks how my day was.
When I contribute my talents to a worthwhile cause.
When my sisters know what I am thinking before I speak.
When I share my life with someone who doesn't know my heavenly Father yet.
When a coworker affirms my heart.

These are but a few of my joy-buttons; buttons my Creator presses often, sometimes in the nick of time. And the depth of my desire to find someone to live, laugh and love with remains. When he arrives, I believe our union will be so much sweeter for the longing, for the waiting.

original poetry - "fearfully, wonderfully"

i woke happy
sitting up with a start
and felt a shiver
emanating from my heart

it was a promise of newness
of something unexpected
and wonderful
only slightly fearful

like field trip day
in the middle of second grade
like camping in a thunderstorm
bracing to get soaked

but I was 33
no school bus waiting
no tent-trailer stalked by lightning
and somewhat disappointed

i hesitated
awaking from my dream
wishing I might
fall back asleep

forcing my eyes to reopen
examining the room
my heart still racing
feet to the floor

i noticed a little something
a bright orange lady bug
alighting on my curtain
and I was fairly certain

i’d never seen one before
because he was brilliant
tiny but efficient
a pleasant window-side addition

i stood up with a big stretch
reaching for who knows what
my body gracefully engaging
a concert of cartilage and nerves

a breakfast of oatmeal
warmed me to my toes
nourishing, filling, rejuvenating
i was ready to go

door creaking open
colors dousing my senses
i blinked at the menagerie
dreaming still? i hesitated

the pines were a million
different hues of green
the bluejay on the feeder
radiant, dashing, & bold

and so it goes…

one would think
my tall latte would bring clarity
but as jazz flowed into Starbucks
i slowly started dancing

and an old man took my hand
i smiled and spinned
imagining a little girl twirling
feeling uncharacteristically beautiful

and time stopped passing
still moving, i started understanding
that yesterday started the same
and i marveled at the change

just one day ago
i hit the snooze
and to my chagrin
missed a brilliant polka-dotted bug

never noticing
the concert my body
was performing
as I hauled out of bed

the oatmeal had been tasteless
sliding down my throat
i was wholly unthankful
for my nourishment

even the bluejay’s chirp
had annoyed my sensibilities
as I drove among the graceful pines
never pausing for a look

the latte had been “the usual”
the old man alone, unnoticed
and i had walked out grouchy
wondering why i was late for work

but that was then
and this is now
living in the moment
i complete my final twirl

and i squeeze the old man’s paw
kiss him on the cheek
and thank him for the dance
a toothless grin greeting me

i have been looking
for the next best thing
all the while
surrounded by miracles

and i make a vow
feeling small, like the ladybug
bold, like the bluebird
joyful, like the old man

i will not forget the wonderful
i will embrace the fearful
for after all
that is how I was made

fearfully
and
wonderfully

The End of the Spear - How I Met the Characters Behind the Movie

Last night, this movie opened to a packed crowd in our local theater. I was riveted. Check it out for yourself at www.endofthespear.com.

In 2001, when I worked as the managing editor of a newsletter for RBC Ministries, I had the opportunity to meet and interview Steve Saint, Mincaye (one of the men who killed Steve's dad) and an Ecuadorian church elder, Tementa. I will never forget it. (see short articles below)

An article I wrote after meeting Steve Saint and Mincaye in 2001:
http://www.rbc.org/td/02-2001/aucastory.html
An article I wrote after interviewing Marj Saint-Vanderpuy by phone:
http://www.rbc.org/td/02-2001/jpilot.html

I remember sitting down with this threesome in a carpeted lobby, and noting how out of place Mincaye appeared, with his pierced lobes. You knew by looking at him that he belonged in the jungle--that this was not his home. He had a twinkle in his eye and a joy in his spirit that could be felt across the room. I felt a deep bond existed between Steve and Mincaye, and I marveled at their friendship, and the forgiveness that had birthed it.

Through Steve, I was able to talk with both Mincaye and Tementa, the church elder. I asked Mincaye what he liked about the US, and he said he really liked the flat ground the plane had landed on. I asked him what one thing he would like to take home with him to Ecuador. He said "a grass-cutter." Steve informed me that at present Mincaye and the others cut their airstrip with a machete. I was transfixed.

Just that week Mincaye had witnessed his first snowfall. It was only a light dusting, but when he touched it on their car, he insisted he was burning up. Everything was new--and in fact, these gentlemen were over-stimulated from the chaos of our country.

I wanted all at once to give them a hug, but I didn't dare. We did part with a handshake, and I wondered what Mincaye and Tementa thought of our workplace--men and women buzzing around, hovering over gray screens and tap-tap-tapping on keyboards as if something very important, but quite mundane, is underway. I remember Mincaye commented on there being so many things (pictures) on the walls.

Steve Saint's mission and ministry in traveling with these men was to gather fellow-Christians who would help indigenous people through his organization I-TEC. Ever since 1956, it seems we thoughtless Americans had been shipping handouts to the Waodani. This became a harmful practice that stripped them of their ability to sustain themselves. (Give a man a fish he eats for a day; teach him to fish, he eats for a lifetime.)

Using the same engineering savvy and know-how passed on to him through his father, Steve was changing things for them. I could tell his heart was in the Ecuadorian jungle...where his father had tragically been killed, where he and his family met the Waodani themselves, where his Aunt Rachel served her entire life alongside the tribe.

Examples of Steve's scientific contributions:
-One weekend he attended a dental seminar and concocted a way to make a power drill kit into a dental kit; Mincaye said they took these to various parts of the jungle, working on people's teeth--he said while their mouths were open, they would talk about Jesus
-Steve said he was also working on a backpack that would literally power someone up into the air and could drop them in the jungle.
-Steve used solar-powered TVs and VCRS to bring the Jesus film into the deep jungle. He said the natives would sit around commenting on the movie...telling each other these weren't the real people, they were just people who looked like them (imagine seeing a video image for the first time!)
-they also had a go-cart/parachute machine that could land in different places in the jungle as well

Later, by phone, Steve shared with me the endearing stories of traveling with Mincaye and Tementa. There was the time that he took Mincaye fishing and stopped in a building to buy a fishing license. Mincaye insisted that "he does not pay to fish." (Being the typical hunter-gatherer.) Steve told him they must pay or they would go to prison and be locked up. He asked if there was food there and when Steve said yes, he said "OK. Let's do it."

Another time, the three of them were in a hotel room with the TV on. As they flipped through the cable changes, M&T landed on ice hockey, their eyes glued to the action on the screen. Their comment: "That thing must be very good to eat." They were referring to the puck. They figured the men most be vying for it.
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Marj Saint
Following the meeting with Steve, I talked with Marj Saint-Vanderpuy (his mother) a few times by phone. She was charming and gracious, and told the story of how they had moved to the city after the deaths. After living in a guest house for awhile, her children and a widower's children decided the two of them should marry. And they finally agreed. The result brought stability and joy to the family and led the family back to the states.

Marj was elderly at that time, but she was still involved in caring for others. Helping women in the 90s at her retirement facility get exercise in the water. She asked me for water exercise pointers, and I was struck by her vivacity and that she still had a desire to learn.

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Hard Times
I can't remember how much time went by before I received the sad news that Steve's 19-year-old daughter had died tragically of a brain aneurysm. Having just returned from a lengthy overseas missions trip, she was home when seized by a violent headache.

An ambulance rushed her to a hospital where she died shortly thereafter. Mincaye was staying with Steve and Ginny Saint at that time and was under the impression that the ambulance had killed her.

What unexpected pain...and I wondered why God allowed it to happen to this family. Later, when I talked to Steve's wife, Ginny, she was hurting but finding her strength in looking to God.

They were real about their pain, but so hopeful knowing they would see their daughter again someday. Since that time, Marj Saint-Vanderpuy has also passed away. Imagine the welcoming committee in heaven!

An Eternal Impression
I'm sure I'll never forget meeting up with these people and watching how the power of God can enter a tribe who has never heard about Jesus, and that they were drawn to learn about "God's carvings." I learned something profound about forgiveness that day--and that God uses terrible things for incredible good.
Hope you've enjoyed my thoughts. Would love to hear what you think of the movie!

Inspiration for bibliophiles:

Wear the old coat and buy the new book.
-Austin Phelps

A Happy 2005, Indeed

What follows is an encyclopedia of my life in 2005--a shameless rip-off of Amy Krouse-Rosenthal's technique in the book Encyclopedia of An Ordinary Life. Follow me if you will...

• AUTHORS - When it comes down to it, these are the people I work for in my job as an assistant marketing manager for a publishing house. In general, I like them. I actually really, really like two in particular right now. Check out the webcasts for their books at www.experiencestory.com and www.90minutesinheaven.com. My hard work on display! Would love to hear what you think.
• AIRPLANES - I boarded several of them this year for work. And had two extraordinary encounters in Memphis and Minneapolis with Rick and Jan. Stories for another time, when I am feeling long-winded...
• BLOG - OK, I can't promise anything, but I do hope to be a semi-faithful blog user. Twice a month, or at least once a month! You should try it, too. Very therapeutic. :)
• BOOKS - I love them. And so, this year I read Encyclopedia of An Ordinary Life by Amy Krouse Rosenthal, and I listened to the audio book called Blindsided by Richard Cohen, as well as Michael J. Fox's autobiography. I also read Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge, Provocative Faith by Matthew Paul Turner, Blue Like Jazz and Through Painted Deserts by Donald Miller, and now I'm on the last chapter of Peace Like a River by Leif Enger. Interesting reads, all. And that doesn't include the countless partial manuscripts I devour for meetings at work. Suppose it's a good thing I like to read so darn much. :)
• CDs -My favorite of albums of the year are Wherever You Are by Third Day and Add to the Beauty by my hero, Sara Groves www.saragroves.com. Check 'em out!
• CRYSTAL H. - An 83-year-old soprano who blew the barn doors of of "The Birthday of the King" at the Methodist Christmas Eve service I attended. She first sang the song at the age of 16 for her voice teacher! I was touched at the fervor with which she sang, and the obvious relationship with Jesus that she enjoyed. Later, my mom, the church secretary, told me that Crystal often calls on the phone just to carry on conversations, admitting she is lonely after her husband's death and that she just appreciates someone who will listen. In that moment, I grew even fonder of dear Crystal, because she is human--and isn't that what we all are--a tangled mess of the holy and the hurting. And eventually, knowing Jesus means we will all be made whole. Still a wonderful mystery to me!
• DATING - I do this, occasionally. That is, I believe I had six official dates in 2005. The stories are interesting, but incriminating. I will have to beg off on this subject for now!
• DENVER - I traveled there twice this year, and will do so again in 2006. I enjoy the city and also visiting my dear friend Carla and her family in Breckenridge. If I ever moved from Michigan, perhaps it would be to CO.
• DREAMS - I would still like a nice little brick house with a fireplace, and perhaps a picket fence, and a dear husband, and a cute darling dog. Plus two kids. I refuse to abandon these dreams because they as of yet have not been fulfilled. And I also dream of writing a novel or a book, speaking to groups of people about the hope you can find when hope seems gone, and of what it really means to accept the love Jesus offers.
• FAMILY - My family lives away from me now -- 45 minutes for my little sissie, 2 1/2 hours for my middle sissie, and 2 1/2 hours for mom and dad. I love them intensely and have walked a journey in relating to them this year that has led to much joy and peace. A new niece to arrive anyday now.
• GILA - My roommate Laura's neurotic little dog (and I say that with great affection). I can never remember her breed, exactly, but she looks just like the little dog in "As Good As It Gets." Gila is very jumpy and runs away anytime we come into the house. If we bend down to her level and hold out our hands, she will occasionally run around in fast circles, circling closer and closer until we can pet her. Will try to post a picture of this little cutie later.
• LAURA - My new roomie; caring, beautiful, thoughtful, and kind. She graciously invited me into her new 3-bedroom ranch house, surrounded by wooded area, and we are getting along swimmingly! She is an answer to prayer.
• JULIE - A dear friend who joined me in Asheville for my therapy. She's so very sacrificial, and joyful, and full of peace. We had so much fun, and having her support was a gift. Since I dearly loved Asheville so much, we decided I will one day go back there on my honeymoon to enjoy all the sites we didn't see. The ones we did were spectacular, though--Grove Park Inn, Mt. Mitchell, and Chimney Rock. Not to mention the hills of Tennessee and Kentucky on the road trip home! I love you, my friend.
• MOMS - I attended a convention where there were 5,000 of them in one room! My goodness. And then another convention with 2,000. My job keeps me studying up on parenting and mommy titles...perhaps I will know everything there is to know by the time God blesses me with a little person myself. Not!
• MOVING - It is a torturous process, and no amount of cajoling yourself into disbelief that it will be easy makes it less difficult. But thanks to dear friends, I accomplished it in one day on December 3. Long may these true-blue friends live!
• PETER - My therapist when I underwent 2 weeks of manual lymphatic drainage massage therapy in September in Asheville, NC. He is one of the most selfless people I know, and for the first time in 10 years or more, he gave me true hope.
• RATHBUN CENTER - The beautiful Wellness Center at the top of a mountain in Asheville, NC, where I spent two weeks of therapy. Couldn't have asked for a better place to stay or better people to share with for those two weeks!
• PUBLISHING - I work for the #3 Christian publisher and really enjoy what I do. It's been a stressful year, getting up to speed, but I predict good things for 2006 and am so thankful to love what I am doing. I never dreamed so much was involved in one little book making it to your bookshelf, but since I believe books change lives--the journey is oh so rewarding.
• QUOTE - If you receive an e-mail from me from my work address, you would see this quote:

  "If I find in myself a desire which no experience in the world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world."

  -CS Lewisch n

• WATER AEROBICS - Yes, yes, I still teach deep water exercise and love it. It's the best exercise for my legs, and the people at the YMCA are amazing. It's an addiction I'm not likely to break anytime soon...

• WRITING - Well, my writing in 2005 (outside of writing some ads for work and lots of e-mails) has been scant. I did contribute 3 devotionals for a Bible and did a bit of writing for a web site. I have so much more in me, but I also realize the season of my life keeps me busy enough without any extras. Some of you will see this and will send half-way frantic e-mails, encouraging me not to give up on writing...ah, go ahead. But don't worry. To everything there is a season.

• YES - I want to be a "yes" girl. That is, to say yes to the best things and no to the rest. To open myself up to all the possibilities of what God might have planned for me, and trust his heart enough to let him lead. Who knows what he has in store?
• ZAT'S ALL FOLKS - No more for now. Come back later for more. And, as always, send me an update, too!