Journal Snapshots ~ Spring 2011

Hello Family, Friends, and die-hard Shull Family Fans everywhere . . . it's time for another episode of Journal Snapshots!  An insider's look at the more lighthearted moments in our household, at least from my point of view.  

                                             ~Sara~

In honor of the three distinct illnesses which have invaded our home, we are taking a holiday from school.



Enjoyed a breakfast birthday party for our newest sweet teenager, Lydia, who is turning 13 today! What a blessing to have her as a daughter... much joy for this mother to watch her children unfold and blossom like flowers in the springtime, to see more and more the uniqueness and beauty in each one.



Just sorted Mt. Washmore with the help of the three amigos. Turns out doing the laundry is a lot more fun when wrestling, giggling, and tug-o-war is involved. Who knew?



A bit annoyed that my middle-aged eyes required me to get my reading glasses before I could help Jonathan, I sat back down with a sigh. Jon lifted up my chin and looked at me seriously. Thinking he'd find it funny to see me in glasses (which I don't usually wear), I was prepared for anything but what he said, "Hmm, you look real pretty."



The birds are singing Springtime songs . . . choosing to see the sunshine and ignore the snow.



The third time the boys spilled through the door to the living room, laughing and tussling like a pile of puppies, it finally caught my attention. "What on earth are you guys doing?!?"
     Nat popped up and grinned, "What? Oh! We're cleaning."



Mud Season 101: The brown stuff that is appearing in spots as the snow melts is called "the ground." No, you can't change your clothes every time you get a teaspoon of mud on your jeans. Note: Although 40 degrees feels "so hot", as long as there is ice in the yard, its best not to go barefoot.



Signs that your child will grow up to have a cleaner house than they grew up in. You say "Hey, let's clean up your room a bit." (ie. put a few toys away) they say "Oh yeah! Let's pull out the extra mattress out from under the bed, get all the toys out from there, find the legos and vacuum under there!" Oh. I guess that is a good idea, Sam.



Kevin, to a dramatically crabby Ruthie after she was untimely waked from a nap in the van on the way home from church . . . (spoken quite cheerfully), "Boy, Ruthie, you sure are whiney . . . did you get up on the wrong side of the carseat?"



I just heard Nat humming that ol' preschool favorite... "If You're Happy and You Know It, Clap Your Hands." Then he stopped and turned to me, "Well, I'm happy... but I'm not sure I know it."



Proof-reading Grace's BU application today. It is sweet to read her essays and glimpse the heart of emerging womanhood. Joining the chorus of mothers across time and space saying "Wow, the days may be long, but the years fly by."



If our long driveway gets any muddier, I think we may need to install a chair lift to get to the house and just park out on the road. Either that or install monster truck tires on the van.



Happy kids playing outside on this early Spring day has provided time for a much needed attempt to conquer Mt. Washmore. Though it occurs to me, as I look at the kids in all their muddy glory upon the return from their adventures, that this was perhaps a counter productive laundry strategy.



Story writing in the field. Reading on the deck. Tadpole and frog egg hunting coming up, as the sound of frogs a courtin' are ringing in the neighborhood. Brothers playing baseball and basketball and getting math done with greatest speed. Collecting maple sap with Mr. Friend. Homeschool in the Springtime.



Oh, dear. I've convinced a sweet editor that an idea I have for a new article is "pure gold." Now they want to see a first draft. Unfortunately, I'm having trouble actually getting my idea out of my head and down on paper. Perhaps I'm distracted by the words "Writing" and "Easy as Pie" in the working title.



Kevin surprised me by instantly appearing with a load of firewood when I just casually mentioned it would be nice to have a fire in the fireplace. When I thanked him, he smiled "Your wish is my command . . . when I feel like it." Ah, yes, an honest Prince Charming.



Jon did not understand why we were all insisting he come inside and change his clothes again. His first selection of a new outfit after his play clothes were drenched from top to bottom in the big mud puddle? Red pajama pants and a nice dressy red sweater vest (no shirt underneath) - both inside out. And last year's green flip flops.



You know you're talking to a country girl when you say . . .
     "Hold still! There's a tick crawling on your neck!"
           And she smiles and replies, "Oh, good! A sign of Spring!"



Psalm 1, "Blessed is the man... his delight is in the law of the Lord and on this law he meditates day and night." Just pondering - That word we translate as blessed . . . we don't actually have a word that means what the original language means . . . divine joy and perfect happiness ? Pierced with godlike joy? O brain cloud, fly away so that I may abide in the Word, in Jesus, this week leading up to Resurrection Sunday.



Jon was sticking his tongue out in various directions and making hilarious, cartoon-like faces as he tried out different positions. Kevin asked him if his tongue tasted good, and he nodded 'yes' and continued to move his tongue around with comedic charm. After watching him for a few moments, Kevin asked, “Well . . . what’s it taste like?”
     Jon stopped and thought for a moment before replying seriously, “Fresh toast!”



Today at breakfast I mentioned, "Well, the royal wedding is tomorrow."
Jonathan nearly fell off his stool with excitement as he thought I was talking about a wedding in which he will be the ring bearer (in a few more weeks). First, he was happy that "the wedding" is tomorrow, and secondly... discovering that his cousin (the bride) is a princess was quite surprising.




The older kids got up as planned at 4am this morning to watch the royal wedding. Dad surprised them (and me) by obtaining and setting out English tea, shortbread, English chocolates, English muffin, proper toast, (donuts, too!) AND by getting up to join them (while I slept in 'til 8). My own Prince Charming!



Me: "Hurry up and go outside or the sun will go down!"
     A smiling teenager: "Wow Mom, good job figuring out a way to keep the sun from setting!"



Me, calling from the bathroom: "Jon, come brush your teeth!"
     Jon, from his bedroom:"I did!"
           Me:"Your toothbrush isn't wet."
                Jon:"Oh!"
He dashes into the bathroom, picks up his toothbrush, gets it wet with running water, gives it a little shake, touches it to make sure it is wet and puts it back in the cup before dashing back to his bedroom! Um... nevermind.



Happy Birthday to our beautiful Esther Rose! A spectacular bike wipe-out this morning (which destroyed a pair of pants and required much cleansing and an impressive bandage) has most likely provided a scar to commemorate her 10th birthday for years to come. Happy Birthday sweet Essie!



Me: "How about we have a new law, Thou Shalt Not Drop Things on the Floor and Leave Them Where They Lie."
      Essie: "Wow, there's going to be a lot of crimes around here!"



Exciting News! Grace got an acceptance letter from BU for the PSEO program in the mail today! Somehow this makes me feel like singing Tangled's "When Will My Life Begin..." in her honor.



Thinking through pre-registration for BU.
Me: "Ok, for electives, think of what sounds most interesting and fun without worrying about heading for degree requirements." (I'm thinking photography, bowling, underwater basket weaving, etc).
Grace, thinking for a few moments: "Well, I don't know . . . sometime I'd really like to take genetics."



Oh my. 18 inches of standing water in the basement. Looks like flotsam and jetsam down there. SuperDad is on his way home. In the meantime, pump is off so no water in the house and we'll have to turn off all the house electricity to go down there. Water table flooding or pipe break?



It's a true flood from the rising water table in our neighborhood. Our 88-year-old neighbor, Mr. Friend, says it's never been this high before. Power still off.  Learned about generators and powerful rental pumps. We got it pumped out and it is rising again from the floor up. Still much to figure out, lots of ruined junk, trying to save many bins of wet clothes that floated and tipped over. Hoping the furnace and water heater are not ruined. Pumping out one more time, then sleep.



Turns out there are a limited number of times you can turn off a main breaker before it needs to be replaced. Power and water from our electric well pump back on now.  Plus we met a nice electrician.



Today: SuperDad to install new sump pump, restore hot water (if hot water heater is OK), throw away junk, dry clothes to save them, return rented generator and pump. Bonus: piano lessons, lib. books due, and 4H dog training. Realized last night Kevin was "this close" to being in Singapore this week. So thankful he is home!



Hot water's back! Now to wash the flooded clothing we dried outside on the old wash lines. Looks like a poor quality yard sale on the front lawn with everything out of the basement. The furnace had important parts submerged so that is not looking good. Many mercies: glorious cool sunny weather, friends praying and bringing dinner, several important things were above water, good excuse to throw away junk, etc!



Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. --James 1:2-3



It's a little-known fact that the traditional gift for a 22nd anniversary is a sump pump. Thankful to be celebrating 22 years of marriage through floods and fair weather!

                                            ~to be continued!

Dandelion love

Dandelion love,

     brought to me in chubby fists

         with glowing smiles today.

A barefoot prince brings 

     violet treasures, too.  

 Sweetness gathered, 

       new each springtime morn.

Jars of captured sunlight

      line my windowsill.

         

A day of childhood marked with each bouquet.

                               ~Sara~

A soul unthawed.

So eager in these days for warmth and life,
we sit outside in hazy sun
with bare limbed trees still reaching to the sky
and call it Spring.

A baby, born to cold and snow,
delights in fists of early grass
while sitting at my feet.

And birds, so bold,
are calling echoes
here and there.

But all around, an emptiness remains
in fields and sky.

And it's quiet. Oh, so quiet.

A moment to relax my guard as winter slips away.
Thankful, I sit.  Just breathing.

Waiting.

A soul unthawed.

                                     ~Sara~

The LORD is Risen, Indeed!

I am not a natural morning person, but this Easter morning I was awake in the darkness quietly nursing the baby while half-dozing, half-praying in bed. When I first noticed the light changing I knew it was nearing dawn. I remembered it was Easter and that soon Kevin and the three oldest kids would be needing to get up for choirs and orchestra and the early service at church. I looked at the gray pre-dawn light making a small patch of light on the wall and thought about the women who were up before dawn, to walk in the cold to the tomb where Jesus lay as soon as they could call it day, dreary with grief–and found the stone rolled away.  Then the joy that rose in their hearts as they and then the disciples first discovered that Jesus had risen from the dead and then encountered their glorious Risen Lord and remembered all that He had taught and promised.

Just before the early alarm sounded, the light patch on my wall exploded into a magnificent rose-orange color such that I knew there must be a beautiful sunrise this morning, a reminder to me of the Resurrection, an encouragement deep in my soul.  As Kevin stirred, I pointed out the light patch of amazing color to him and he got up and opened the drapes.

Yes!  A glorious dawn and encouragement to our souls . . .  awake and hear the good news!

Gather Christians, this Easter morning, rejoice and be glad!

The Lord is Risen, Indeed!

I felt strangely drawn to open my computer this morning.  I say strangely because I have a "rule" to never open my computer before church on a Sunday, and it seems strange to use my unexpected peaceful alone time in that way.  Yet, I had a question about the holy spirit on my mind and so decided to look it up on the Desiring God website. I never got past the front page of DG however because I found the following post about the The Overflow of Easter, an encouragement for my soul about the resurrection and it's achievements, and I'm so glad I read it before getting the children up and going, to get ready for church this morning. My Easter worship will be richer for thinking through this.  Then I decided to share the article here and so, here I am writing before the children even wake on a Sunday morning, even Easter.  A first for sure!

And now I am about to begin my day–thinking of Brothers and Sisters throughout the world all gathering together to rejoice in the good news. And thankful for the amazing light on my wall this morning that woke me up with unexpected ease in order to remember and shout to my own soul and the world ~  Yes! The LORD is Risen! The LORD is Risen! The LORD is Risen!

The LORD is Risen, Indeed!

                                                      ~Sara~

Irrepressible light

Recently, I was thinking about the meaning of communion and the symbolism of His body broken for me, and His blood poured out for me, and unexpectedly I had an upwelling of love for our Lord Jesus and His sacrifice for us. It was wonderful for affections for Him to break through the mundane superficiality of my life and the experience was received as a gift. I knew there was nothing in me that had changed. He had opened my heart and I was grateful. Heading into Holy Week and Easter weekend I was hoping that by my own observance of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and then the joyful Resurrection Sunday that I could somehow recapture those feelings I had a few weeks ago, and also, somehow think deeply and dig deeply into my heart to get the whole picture of what He has done for us, for me. Instead–I've been sleep deprived, busy, irritable and distracted and I'm flying up to Easter with only surface attention to the passing days. How like God to give me a gift when it is obviously not of my own work and then to let me see what happens when I try to "make" my own experience!

When I was in the middle of my deeper affections a few weeks ago, I found myself reading through the Passion Week scriptures and really noticing the experience of the women who were closest to Jesus. Oh, what love! What darkness they experienced to the core of their being! And finally, what joy! They followed Him to the cross; they watched the horror unfold; they clung together; they watched their last hope fade; they watched Him suffer on the cross; they stayed until He died from crucifixion; they watched as His death was confirmed with a spear thrust to the side; they stayed to see Him taken down; they followed to see Him laid in the tomb; they left to prepare spices and ointment as darkness fell; they observed the Sabbath and left the tomb alone for agonizing hours as He lay alone, His body unprepared; they came again to anoint His body as soon as they could possibly call it dawn; they arrived to find an empty tomb; they were greatly distressed; they received the good news and explanation of the resurrection from angels; one stayed and heard the Lord Himself speak her name; they returned to the disciples to share the news of the angels and with the report of seeing Him alive... only to be received as women speaking idle talk.

But–their story was confirmed–He appeared again, and again, and again.

They loved, they feared, they followed, they watched, they were devastated, they were confused, they grieved, they cared, they waited, they went to care for his body–all dark, dark days. I try to imagine the darkness of their grief, but it is well beyond my experience. Then they were the first to hear the good news from angels, to find the empty tomb on the third day . . . just as He promised. Mary, lingering and thinking that her grief had been compounded by enemies stealing her Lord's body, is instead called by name by the resurrected Jesus. Her joy is well beyond what I can imagine.

Thinking through my impossible plan to try to feel my way through the weekend really experiencing the dark leading up to Easter, and then the joy–I find that I'm never able to get to that place of grief because the joy and light keep poking in. I'm too tired to concentrate on keeping them out and feel the darkness. I know He is alive! I can't forget the Good News because it is the strength and joy of my life. I don't feel separated from my Lord during Good Friday. I am, at times, overwhelmed with what He has done to atone for sin, once for all. But death could not keep Him in the grave. His sacrifice is perfect and He conquered death for Love and His Glory. At the same time He is here with me on my superficial, tired days, leading me and carrying me and taking me where I need to be step-by-step and giving me the gifts of feeling His presence and feeling deep affection for Him when it is best for me.

Let us remember His suffering.  Let us believe in Him and receive His salvation. Let us be transformed into His bride. And if in our weakness, poor affections and pale imagination we can't grieve properly on this Good Friday for our Lord's dark day or for our sins, let us rejoice that we live on this side of Easter and that what He has accomplished is not dependent on what we do at all.

Yes, let us rejoice this Easter and every day, for the Lord is Risen, Indeed!

                                                                               ~Sara~

ps.  I wrote this on Good Friday 2010, but it reflects so much of my feelings this year as well, I decided to repost.  We are weak . . . Rejoice!

Pierced with joy

Yesterday, our family read through Psalm 1 as we began to memorize those verses as a part of the Fighter Verses program at our church. Then we looked closely at the first few words, "Blessed is the man . . ." What exactly does that word Blessed mean anyway? Some of the kids had an idea of what it might mean–righteous, loved, happy, receiving a gift, getting a reward. We couldn't pin it down exactly, so we looked it up. Lydia found a note in the Reformation ESV Bible that explained that there is more than one Hebrew word that we translate as "blessed." The Hebrew here was a word used to denote something stronger than happiness, but English doesn't have a perfect word for that. I later found some information mentioned by a number of sources: in the Greek translation of Psalm 1, and in the New Testament original Greek, the word that we translate as blessed (makarios) had a flavor in the Greek culture of godlike joy attained by specially favored people–royalty, the exceedingly rich, or the gods themselves–enjoying all the riches of their position in a state of happy contentment, living above the normal cares of earthly life.

In a tired, brain-foggy sort of way, I've been thinking about this word Blessed in the midst of Holy Week, wanting to abide in Jesus especially as we look forward to Easter. Mostly, though, these thoughts were just on the fringes of my mind with lots of distracting things going on all around me. Suddenly, thinking about the explanation of the word Blessed having connotations of royalty and the powerful privileged enjoying their riches brought the beatitudes of Matthew 5:1-12 into my mind with a small catch of my breath.

Oh! Jesus was saying something so counter-cultural to the common meaning of those who are "blessed."  The contrast must have been startling to those who were listening that first time on the hillside. He said, blessed are those who are poor in spirit, those who mourn, those who are meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who are merciful, those who are pure in heart, those who are peacemakers, those who are persecuted, and those who are reviled and falsely accused of evil on account of Jesus. Those who suffer now in these ways and put their hope in God are blessed beyond measure in the kingdom of heaven.  They are comforted, made heirs of the earth, satisfied in righteousness, they shall see mercy, see God and be called the sons of God. Theirs is the kingdom...the KINGDOM... of heaven!

Therefore rejoice and be glad!

As I thought through these things, my definition of blessed meaning strong happiness shifted to thinking of it as piercing joy. At the same time I'm thinking of Jesus, pierced for our transgressions and enduring the cross for the joy set before Him. Perhaps to those described in the beatitudes, the promise of being blessed is a painful happiness, as though they are pierced with joy.

This week as I look forward to Easter Sunday and remember the cross and the resurrection, my hope is that God our loving Father would pierce me with His joy, capture my wandering thoughts, and turn my eyes to Jesus.

                                                   ~Sara~



The Beatitudes
Seeing the crowds, he went up on the mountain, and when he sat down, his disciples came to him. And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you."

                                   ~Matthew 5:1-12

Blessed is the man 
who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,
nor stands in the way of sinners,
nor sits in the seat of scoffers;
but his delight is in the law of the Lord,
and on his law he meditates day and night.

He is like a tree
planted by streams of water
that yields its fruit in its season,
and its leaf does not wither.
In all that he does, he prospers.
The wicked are not so,
but are like chaff that the wind drives away.

Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous;
for the Lord knows the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked will perish.
                            ~Psalm 1~

O Snow!

When snow in April inspires bad poetry~

O Snow, O Snow, must you stay so long?

I'm weary of your games.
Half the year seems quite enough . . .
Another storm? How lame.

Now it's time for April's showers,
and green to shine anew.
Better yet, let's jump to May
with all its flowers, too.

O Snow, O Snow, I'm sad to say . . .
Get out of here! We're through!
Your welcome, Snow, is all worn out.

I'm so, so over you.

                                                 ~Sara~

Journal Snapshots ~ Mid-Winter 2011

Hello Family, Friends, and die-hard Shull Family Fans everywhere . . . it's time for another episode of Journal Snapshots!  An insider's look at the more lighthearted moments in our household, at least from my point of view.  

                                    ~Sara~

Watching Sam and Ben engaged in some intense sword fighting with light sabers accompanied by curious back and forth dialogue: 

     Nat, “What are you guys playing?”

         One boy took the time to cry out a reply . . . “Binoculars!”  

Oh. Well that clears that up.

Looking for Ruthie at naptime -- I found her crouched behind the bathroom door wearing my reading glasses. When I moved the door to see her and asked what she was doing, she looked up in the most natural way and replied . . . "Mom, is that you?" 

"Mom! Mom! Ruthie is bleeding!!!" yells Jon as he skids into the kitchen. 

     Not hearing any crying in the distance, I ask, "What kind of bleeding?" 

          Jon looks at me seriously and replies, "Red." 

Grace showed 6-year-old Sam a picture of Pastor John and asked him if he knew who it was.

      "Yep," Sam replied, "That's our actor!" 

The Academy of the Three Amigos is officially back in session. On the agenda today: My Father's Dragon, clock time, tying shoelaces, trees, a few workbooks and advanced light saber techniques with sound effects.

So it's true. Sleep does make a difference. What shall I do with my mind today, while it's here for a visit?

Sunshine and dripping icicles.

      Frozen trees half-exhale in the warming air 

             ~ a hint of springtime mixed with woodsmoke in the air. 

Reminders in the bleak midwinter that Life will triumph in the end. 

This morning, I opened my eyes to find Ruthie about eight inches from my face. I started to say something when she interrupted, "Shushhhh. Go back to sleep Mom." 

     It's hard to sleep and laugh at the same time, but I gave it a shot. 

Martin Luther King Jr. was only 39 years old when he was killed. Somehow I didn't realize that. "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." 
— MLK Jr. 

Sub-zero windchills are leading to an epidemic of excessive and potentially furniture-destroying, Tigger-like bouncing around here. All that sun and snow and too cold to play. Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce . . . 

There is an old outhouse on our property, I can see it out there in the trees when I look out of my kitchen window . . . and after a night of 27 below and a day with a high of zero, I'm more happy than ever that it is no longer in use. 

Morning sun on Winter's snow, 
so bright it hurts the eyes 

     ~
hinting of Glory so radiant we need new eyes to see. 

Gripped by Psalm 46 this morning. 

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. 

     Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way (!) . . ." 

            "Be still and know that I am God . . ."

 The whole Psalm, rich words to dwell upon. 

Happy Birthday, dear Ruthie! The princess is taking a bit 'o a nap and will be back for more festivities later . . . 3 years old! 

Sam just brought me a heart-shaped Valentine he made for me. It has a picture of the two of us running the 22-ton wood splitter together. Ah, romance is in his future! 

Dedicated baby Daniel Roy this morning at church. 

     Got home safe and sound, before the storm hit. 

          Let it snow! 

Ben's quick quip after laughing at his own misunderstanding of my excitement about having a snow day: "Oh! (laughing) I thought you said a NO day! You know . . .

      'Mom, can I watch TV?' NO

             'Mom, can I play computer?' NO

                     'Mom, will you play a board game?' NO 

                             'Mom, can I have a cookie?' NO..." 

Ruthie just appeared beside me, big tears and wailing. What's wrong dear? (shudder, sniffle) "Sam was really not playing with me and my nose got into Boaz's mouth!" 

I was sitting unsuspecting on the couch when Ruthie jumping up and down suddenly pelted a ball directly at me and yelled, "Hey Mom! FETCH!" 

In trying to defrost some frozen laundry room pipes, I have overloaded the outlet with a heater and a blowdryer and plunged the circuit into darkness. The breaker, however has not tripped, and I can't restore power. Electrical advice anyone? Or is the house about to blow up . . .

OK. Now a hot water pipe burst. Did you know that massive amounts of steam will set off a fire alarm? It will. We got the flood turned off, but now have no hot water anywhere. Twas a blessing the electricity previously went out, however, or I would have had a blow dryer on in the midst of the flood. Thankful nothing dangerous happened. 

I fixed the pipe! My do-it-yourself show starts next week. And the pipes are thawed, thanks to this nice weather. Still can't figure out the electrical circuit thing, but at this point, I'm willing to run my laundry machine with a heavy duty power cord to the hall. But actually, I've lost enthusiasm for doing the laundry today. Strange. 

In honor of the three distinct illnesses which have invaded our home, we are taking a holiday from school. 

Enjoyed a breakfast birthday party for our newest sweet teenager, Lydia, who is turning 13 today! What a blessing to have her as a daughter... much joy for this mother to watch her children unfold and blossom like flowers in the springtime, to see more and more the uniqueness and beauty in each one. 

Just sorted Mt. Washmore with the help of the three amigos. Turns out doing the laundry is a lot more fun when wrestling, giggling, and tug-o-war is involved. Who knew? 

A bit annoyed that my middle-aged eyes required me to get my reading glasses before I could help Jonathan, I sat back down with a sigh. Jon lifted up my chin and looked at me seriously. Thinking he'd find it funny to see me in glasses (which I don't usually wear), I was prepared for anything but what he said, "Hm, you look real pretty." 

This is the day that the Lord has made! Let us rejoice and be glad in it! 

                                                        ~Sara~

...though the earth gives way.

Thursday, we were headed to the memorial service of a man from our church.

Cancer. He was eight years older than Kevin. He leaves a wife and two just-grown children. He was the first person we met when we moved to Minnesota 14 years ago. We had asked the church if there was anyone who would help us unload our moving truck, and somehow Bob ended up at our door on a cold, snowy, winter's day. Cheerful and welcoming, with plenty of Minnesota jokes to get us acquainted with northern humor right off the bat. Through the years he was a regular person in the background of my life. Not one of our best friends, but someone I took for granted as being around here somewhere, someone I would never hesitate to enjoy a conversation with if we happened to be in the same place at the same time. Always with a joke and smile for the kids, a surprise from his pocket, the real deal, and unique in every way.

Driving down the highway to the downtown Minneapolis church, I wondered at my lack of sadness on the road. That didn't last long. As soon as I entered the lobby, I noticed the rotating slide show on the monitors. We came in midway through the lifetime of pictures. I looked up at Bob standing with his family, Bob cracking a joke with a friend, Bob in a Civil War uniform at Ft. Snelling, Bob in London with his wife on the big trip, Bob looking tired, Bob with oxygen on his face, Bob sicker than I had ever seen him. Tears started leaking out of my eyes as I slumped into the pew in the overflow area, where I planned to sit with the baby. I stopped wiping my face after a few minutes and just let the tears drip off my chin. And that was before his Civil War reenactment battery marched in to the wail of bagpipes and the service began with its carefully chosen hymns, memories of life-long-friends, truth-provoking poetry, friend-filled choir, well suited sermon and scripture that resonated with my heart. Bob has gone from what he called pre-life (nevermind that afterlife talk...this is just the pre-life!) and has joined Jesus in LIFE. His civil war with sin and this body of death is over. Victorious. Redeemed. It was a beautiful service remembering Bob and honoring Jesus Christ. Absurdly, I was reminded of Bilbo Baggins saying, "but today of all days it is brought home to me that it is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life."

Sitting in the back, nursing my chubby baby–watching pictures of Bob from infant, to child, to teen, to young man, to husband, to father, to mid-life, to cancer–I felt I was somehow holding earthly life from beginning to end with all its joys and sorrows, right in my arms, as the tears continued to leak quietly from my eyes.

I remembered the verses that had so gripped me a few weeks ago, from Psalm 46, verses 1-3.

God is our refuge and strength,
     a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
     though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam,
     though the mountains tremble at its swelling.

I had walked around with the words rolling in my mind. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way.  Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way. Therefore we will not fear...  Though the earth gives way?  What does that mean?  How can we not fear if the earth gives way beneath us? It really stuck with me.  Do I have that faith?  I want to have that faith.  Oh, Lord, give me that faith! I started thinking of all the things that happen in life that feel like that. Like the earth giving way beneath our feet. What am I trusting in? That thought has been with me for the past two weeks.

Sitting at the back of the church, behind the glass of the sanctuary, holding the baby and pondering the fleeting days of this life, I began thinking of how it is true, that through our hope in Christ, we can face death and not fear.  I had this image in my mind of the earth falling away from us in this manner: When loved ones, and others who form the tapestry of life around us, die and leave us–it is as if the earth gives way–one person at a time.  If I, or this child in my arms, lives for 110 years, the earth will give way, as one by one people disappear around me, around him.  In my mind, all the people I have ever known were standing soberly, facing me, then turning to dust and blowing away, quietly, one at a time.

Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way...

                                        ~Sara~

God is our refuge and strength,
     a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
     though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam,
     though the mountains tremble at its swelling....

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
     the holy habitation of the Most High.
God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;
     God will help her when morning dawns....

“Be still, and know that I am God.

    I will be exalted among the nations,
    I will be exalted in the earth!”
The Lord of hosts is with us;
     the God of Jacob is our fortress. 

                         ~Psalm 46:1-3 and 4-5 and 10-11

Robert W. Lockman, Jr.

November 17, 1954-January 24, 2011

Honoring Jesus Christ and Remembering Bob Lockman:

A Memorial Service of Worship, February 17, 2011

But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep.

~1 Thessalonians 4:13-14

Prelude: Morning Has Broken

Welcome and Prayer

Bagpipe Processional: The Minstrel Boy

Trooping of the Colors: 

     Company A, First Minnesota Volunteers Infantry. 

     Battery I, First U.S. Artillery.

Greetings

Congregational Hymns:

O the Deep, Deep Love of Jesus

What Wondrous Love is This?

O Let Your Soul Now Be Filled With Gladness

Memories

Choral Praise: My Shepherd Will Supply My Need

Poem: Jesus

Congregational Song: Be Thou My Vision

Romans 7:13-8:1

Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.

So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members.Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin.

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

Message: Bob Lockman's Civil War

Choral Anthem: The Battle Hymn of the Republic

Congregational Hymn: Victory in Jesus

Bagpipe Recessional: Retreat

Postlude

Loving February? Part 2

The challenge (and humor) of loving February seems to have struck a chord with a lot of my friends. A surprising number have mentioned additional things to add to the Merits of February list. Quite a few have told me they are going to try to love February along with me!  Fun!

So here are a few more great things about this month. Perhaps they will entice a few more of you to join the February Fan Club!

•Garden and Seed Catalogs arrive.

•Enjoying your best garden EVER… in your imagination.

•Runners can stop worrying about windchill and train outdoors. Usually.

•Blooming potted flowers reappear in the stores bringing the first true smells of Spring!

•Gorgeous mornings of hoarfrost.  A late winter treat.

•We in the north can be amused by swimsuits being suddenly and prominently displayed in stores.

•Lots of birds come to the feeders because they can’t find food anywhere else.

•Cheap chocolate after Valentine’s day.

•Star gazing without mosquitoes, plus the snow is comfy for lying on your back and staring at the sky.

•If you file your taxes early, your refund (if you’re going to get one) will arrive this month.
•Spectacular icicles.
•Warm enough to wash the car a few times this month.

•Snow shoveling muscles are finally in shape, just in time for the heaviest snow of the season.

•Girl Scout Cookies.

•Warms up enough for the kids to play outdoors for extended amounts of time after being cooped up for weeks . . . months . . . on end.

AND~

Best of all - it’s fun to smile and respond unexpectedly with “You know, I actually sort of love February!”  when folks make small talk with the standard late-winter conversation openers. Several people were laughing along with me during a funny conversation with the cashier at the grocery store yesterday after she commented, "Well, do you think this winter is ever going to end?"

So, what else do YOU (try to) love about February? 

ps. Thanks again, Rachel!