TACO'S TAIL (TALE) - revised

TACO’S TAIL (TALE) OK, I don’t think many of you humans know what it’s like to be a dog, particularly a very small dog. There are a lot of references to dogs in our culture and not many of them are complementary. Other than from the “dog lovers” out there, as a species we don’t get much respect (and as for me specifically, you could say I’m the “Rodney Dangerfield” of dogs - and not just because I resemble him - which I kind of do). So, I thought it might be good to write a little exposition of sorts of my life to this point. I guess you could call this my tail, er’-tale. As you may have noticed, one thing you will have to get used to when reading anything I write, is that I have many random thoughts, sometimes related to what I’m talking about and sometimes not so much (but you have to understand my brain is about the size of a marshmallow and my attention span is about as long as it would take me to eat one of them). They say that, in spite of my somewhat limited brain size, I’m pretty smart (but we’re talking “dog smart” here so I’m not letting my small head get too big with all that “smart” talk.) STREET DOG So, what kind of dog am I? Who knows? All I know is I’m small and kind of funny looking. People think I’m a type of Chihuahua (which when you see it all spelled out like that, is kind of a cool name. I like it). Some have said there are “apple head” Chihuahuas (long or short haired) and “deer head” Chihuahuas (mostly short haired). If I am one, I’m definitely the “deer” head variety. It is said that when I curl up to lie down, I closely resemble a very small fawn. I have a long, skinny nose, very large (compared to the rest of me) ears and eyes, and my tail has been referred to as much like a rat. I’m pretty scrawny (about 6 pounds-and some people still think I’m fat). Oh well, what are you going to do when your parents were a couple of “dogs”? I have to play the cards I was dealt in this life. Speaking of my parents, I have no idea what the heck kind of dogs they were. I’m guessing one of them (probably my birth mother, was the Chihuahua. As for my birth father, I’m guessing he was some no-account drifter. FYI, another thing we of Chihuahuan ancestry have to put up with is a lot of racial innuendo; reference my given name, Taco. Rumor has it that as if “Taco” isn’t bad enough (yo quiero Taco Bell and all that) my humans (who I actually do like) were contemplating calling me “Pedro”. Anyway, I’m thinking my birth father blew into town (maybe with the circus – you know those dogs with the tutus and such) some Saturday night looking for some action, and Lord knows on the SE side of town (not too far from where I was eventually found and claimed) there is plenty of action to be had. Well, my father (and I use the term loosely) did what he had the urges to do and then skedaddled back to wherever he came from. I never saw him and I’m pretty sure he never stuck around to even know I existed. Anyway, so now my poor mom is “you know what” with a belly full of me and however many others there were of us in there. Of course, I don’t remember being born, when or where or any of those details, but I can imagine we were about the ugliest little slimy, hairless, squeakers ever. Some (like my sweet human mom) would probably say we were “so cute”, but they only would be saying that to be nice, or it would be like “they’re so ugly, they’re cute” (I’ve heard that plenty my whole life-but as they say it’s the personality that counts and they say I’ve got a great one of those). So somehow, we survived, mom, my sibs and me. But as, I suppose, is natural for “dogs”, we all got separated (which I’m alright with because whatever I could find to eat, I didn’t have to share - come to think of it I’m still not real great at sharing, every dog for himself is my motto). I kicked around a little bit, a little here, a little there, a while here, a while there . . . not a great life, but I survived. I can’t tell you how many times I felt alone, like nobody cared whether I lived or died, and how many times I didn’t know where my next meal was coming from. Many nights I never knew if I would be able to find a warm or soft place to lay this hungry bag of bones. And talk about scarry, yipes! People say I’m ugly, but you would cringe if you saw some of the gruesome critters that were almost always chasing me. Again, I’m about the littlest version of a canine there is and almost anything, from rats to humans, are bigger than me and, I guess, figured I would be a tasty (all be it somewhat hairy and scrawny) morsel. So, when people call me “street dog” (which happens pretty frequently) I take no offense. I’m proud of my survival during those days. I consider being called “street dog” a badge of courage! NEW DIGS Then my fortunes, my very life, changed forever. Who says that life stinks? Who says that nothing good ever happens to us? Who says there’s no God, no Grace? If you ever hear people say that, tell them about me. . . A little over 5 years ago (wow, time flies when you’re a dog and you sleep 80 percent of your life-but I’m cool with that), I’m thinking it was springish of 2007, I was found by the sweetest, dog lovingest, prettiest, awesomest (working on my good doggy points here, bear with me) lady I’ve ever seen. She happened to be driving around and I happened to be walking around and she spotted me. I was a flea ridden, undernourished bag of bones, at that time just trying to stay alive. She stopped her big old car/truck kind of thing she was driving (I later heard them refer to it as her “Suburban”, which was kind of strange because she lived in the “city”) and started coming after me. Of course, I had been chased by all kinds of creatures my whole life, so my instinct was to get away, but she was persistent (which was amazing because she didn’t know me from any other “slumdog” (no millionaire here) up and down the street. She cornered me, but there was something different about her and her approach. It kind of paralyzed me, kind of neutralized my fear. She really seemed like she wanted to help me and not hurt me like I was so used to. I decided to give up (best decision I ever made). I remember she picked me up (I probably peed on her as I seemed to do a lot of that back then) but she treated me very well. I remember she went to a bunch of the houses around there and asked if I belonged to anybody or if anybody knew who I did belong to. I could have told her I had nobody, nobody seemed to want a “stick dog” like me around for long. She eventually took me to her home. “Home”, what a great word! It implies belonging. Not sure I’d ever experienced that before, not that I remember anyway, but I sure liked it. Four walls, a roof, comfy furniture, warm blankets and FOOD and WATER. Oh, sooo good (did I mention FOOD?). While these new humans were really good to me, I was in for a bit of a surprise. There were already two other dogs occupying this home, never good when you’re the new guy. Well, as you can imagine I got busy right away “marking” my territory in this place (that didn’t seem to make these normally good-natured humans too happy??). Of these two other dogs, they called one of them “Sammy” and the other “Rosie”. Based on their names and some (not so) stealth sniffing, I determined they were b - - - -s (sorry I’m in a nice home now and I have to clean up my act) er’ females (although the small one really did fit the b-word pretty well). That “Sammy” (about my size but a lot furrier) was quite old and extremely ornery. She was not at all thrilled that I was around and helping myself to “her” food (no worries, I’ve dealt with her type before). The big one (about ten times bigger than me and also a lot furrier) didn’t seem to mind at all (I’m not sure she noticed I was even there, she’s pretty laid back). She’s actually still around and we are good buddies to this day (even though she’s now like 100 years old, shed’s her hair all over the place, fart’s all the time, has bad breath and breathes so hard all night long nobody can get any sleep and don’t even get me started on if it’s storming outside, sheesh!). Anyway, this new, super sweet human lady was having a hard time (though I know she gave it the old college try) finding where I really belonged. I, of course, knew I belonged right here with her and her daughter, so I turned on the old “Latin” charm. You know what they say about Chihuahuas, we’re 50% warrior and 50% lover. I dialed up that lover part because I really wanted to stay. It must have worked because, despite all the freakish looks they would send my way, I think they really got attached to me too. Now, a good five years later, I’m (what I’d like to think) a huge (funny word to describe a small dog like me) part of this family. FIVE FAST YEARS In the five years I’ve been here we’ve had some great times (there’s been some rotten times too, like the time I got nailed by this stinky looking cat-like creature with a stripe down its back. Who knew they could send that foul smelling pee such a distance so accurately? That really smarted. The human parental units were not too happy about that either, but they scrubbed me up pretty well). Over time, I moved with my new family into three different houses, but you know what, they all seemed like “home” because we were all together. As they say, “home is where the mom is” and I had one (a mom) now that I really loved. Sadly, after a while, that ornery little furry dog they called Sammy went to the big doggie blanket (I say blanket because my favorite thing in the whole world is to cuddle up in a warm blanket-particularly if my human mom is cuddled up in the same blanket) in the sky. (I understand Sammy was really not so bad when she was younger and that she had some “condition” that made living not such a pleasant thing for her anymore). She was missed by the whole family (well, not so much by me). I remember meeting lots of other dogs through the years (like Dozer, the big black one across the street). For some reason, I always think I have to yell at them so they will leave us alone. Once in a while, they’ll yell back (and most of them have a much louder, deeper voice than me and that’s kind of scary and embarrassing). Sometimes my humans talk about me being small and having this “Napoleon Complex”, not sure what that is but it sounds kind of serious (I hope it’s not fatal). Everybody treats me pretty well now, but there’s this one guy, he looks something like a younger version of the big one I’m supposed to call dad. Everybody calls him Matt. He would stick me in places I couldn’t get out of, he would stick me up on high shelves, chase me around, and all kinds of not so fun stuff. But it’s not so bad, I know he is just playing when he does that. I have to say he is the one I can thank for getting me the most treats I’ve ever had (never enough treats though, just saying). He worked with me and trained me to do some stuff that always gets a happy reaction from human types and then they hand me a treat of some sort. So now if a human is holding even a particle of food in their hands and kind of waving it at me, I will do practically anything. I will sit, stay, lay, roll over and even play dead (hey, it’s degrading but the treats the thing-it’s all about the food). All in all, I’ve got no complaints. Along the way I’ve even had the chance to do some traveling. If there’s one thing I hate almost as much as getting nailed by a skunk, it is being left home when mom and dad go traveling somewhere. Lately, though, they’ve taken me along quite often. Last year we had a swell trip to some place they called “out west”. We spent some really cold nights in a “Kanpin Kabin” (ok, that’s not me just being a dumb dog speller, that’s really the way they spelled it-even a biscuit sized brain dog like me knows that’s spelled wrong). It was cold at night, but we had great times during the day. I even got to “french kiss” with a jack ass (no not dad-although I have done that on Saturday mornings when we’re all sleeping in), burro at Custer State Park. Whoa, that was a little freaky. I think those ugly things want food even more than I do (doesn’t sound possible I know) but mom started feeding them some chips (hey, come to think of it she didn’t give me any) or something and they stuck their heads right in the car windows looking for more. Well, being the brave family protector I am, I had to yell a little bit to try to get them out of there. One of them licked me, eeeouww, not sure what I think about that. He probably thought I was some kind tasty morsel. Anyway, we had a good time and I’m glad they take me (and leave Rosie home - ha ha sucka) on some of their trips. I think we are going to have more fun trips together in the future. There are many other mad cap adventures I’ve had over the years, but this story is already getting kind of long (not like me to be long). A GOD THING I guess you could say my human family is kind of religious (thus Rosie and I can always be found home alone on Sunday mornings, but that’s a good day to sleep in - come to think of it every day is a good day to sleep in). There’s an expression I hear fairly often around the house. They say, “it’s a God thing”. I think they say that when something turns out unexpectedly well in a random sort of way. I’ve actually heard them say that’s what it is for me to be here with this family. You see, this family has been through a lot. Just a year or so before I came around this was actually two families, each with a mom, dad and three kids. Then something unthinkable happened. Mom’s family, unexpectedly, lost their husband/father and I know they loved him very much. Shortly after that dad’s family lost, also unexpectedly, their wife/mother and they, too, loved her very much. Both families were devastated and changed forever. They were working hard to put the pieces of their lives back together when mom found me. About that same time, these two families were starting to get to know each other (also a “God thing”) and soon after that we all became one big happy, blended family. It has been said that because I was found about the same time as they found each other, I am looked at as a sort of family “mascot” as it were. Like God (note that dog is God spelled backwards, so I know we dogs hold a special place in God’s creation) brought me to this new blended family as a sort of common thread that helps to tie us together into a tighter bond. I know this God is good. I know he is a God that works at redemption and is constantly in the process of redeeming this world. The greatest thing I can think of is that He has used me, a geeky, small, otherwise somewhat insignificant creature to somehow give this family some additional joy. Really, isn’t that what we dogs really want (well, right after food) is to see our humans happy and their tails wagging? It has been said that it’s a “God thing” that I am here with this family. I think they’re right, and my tails wagging too.

Grace to all . . . Taco (aka - Toc, Tikity Toc, What’s Up Toc, Big Guy, Buster, Tacos, Butthead, My Man, Taco Va, Rat Dog, Killer, Buddy - you know, I guess I’ll answer to just about anything - if there’s food) ________________________________________________________________________ UPDATE – I wrote the above nearly ten years ago. That’s a long time in little doggy years. Back then I was in the prime of my life and always up for an adventure. Now, not so much! I am definitely nearing the end of my short time in this world. I have aches and pains in places I didn’t know I had places. I can’t eat at all like I used to so now I am even scrawnier than before, and weaker. When I was younger, I could jump from the floor up to my (mom and dad’s) bed. Now I struggle to make it up one step. I can hardly see these days and that creates issues with many things. One of those being stairways. I have tumbled down full flights of stairs all too often lately. I’ve survived the falls, but they are hard on this frail old body. Over the years, I have always been a fair-weather pooper. I’m happy to do my business outside in nice weather but when it’s nasty and cold outside, guess what, I’ve got no problem making a little mess inside. Lately though, I just can’t get outside often enough. I know I’m messing everywhere, even mom and dad’s bed, but I can’t help myself. I hate getting old☹ There are a couple of “new kids” in the family now. That fury one I mentioned, Rosie, she’s gone. Soon after that mom got this big goof, they call Max. He’s OK. Early on, he was always trying to get me to play with him, egging me on. I wasn’t interested. I mostly try to ignore him. Occasionally we want the same food. That seems to bring out the worst in both of us. There’s also another one, mom calls him her “grand puppy”. That seems crazy to me! He is a small dog like me, with a lot of energy, like I used to have. He and Max run around a lot and that kind of annoys me, but mostly I ignore him, too. Soon they will have the place to themselves. It’s their world now. Even though I’m a pain, mom and dad (mostly mom) still love me. I know she struggles with letting me go. I struggle with that, too. Some days I just want to go to that big comfy blanket in the sky and other days I feel better and would love to stay and snuggle with mom more. I have had a blessed life and the biggest blessing is to have been found by this extraordinarily loving lady. She is not giving up on me. We both know the end is near but whatever happens, I know mom will make the right decisions. It's been a great life with this ever-growing blended family. A little stray dog could not have asked for anything more… Till we meet again – Taco R.I.P. Taco – 11/15/2021

MOM  (in the above photo she's the little cutie on the far left)


My mom begins her 10th decade of life today as she turns 90. There are no words for trying to explain her impact on me as a result of the depth of her love. I am attempting to merely scratch the surface of giving her the honor that she is due on this milestone birthday.

Greta (Drenth) Vail is the eight child of ten, born to Jacob and Bessie Drenth on March 15, 1923. In her years she has experienced much pain and sadness as she has outlived her parents, her siblings, her husband, a daughter-in-law and a grand child. Despite these losses, she lives her life in joy, thankful for the many blessings that God has, indeed, sent her way. She has continues to model a “Christ like” life even as she has so gracefully aged.

How can we quantify the impact that her life has had on this world? The totality of this impact is known only by her heavenly Father. For a humble woman who rarely left the general area of her home, her impact on the world is/will continue to be amazing. My sisters and I are lucky enough to be her offspring, but her life has impacted so many more lives and will for generations to come. She remains a genuine model of faithfulness to her Lord, her husband, her children, her grandchildren, nieces, nephews and her friends. Everyday she continues to teach those of us who know her lessons of love, faith, humility, servant hood, charity, humor, hope, family, devotion, gentleness, conviction, optimism, wholesomeness, kindness and so much more. These lessons, as she has taught them, will continue for generations. It is said that ones “reputation” in life becomes your “legacy” in death. I believe my mothers “legacy” will be one that is impossible to live up to but held as an example to strive for.

Following are a few “random memories” that I have from my life time with Mom:
• How easily she faints
• Cherry picking
• Ordering school clothes from the Spiegel catalog
• Bare butt spankings when I was especially naughty
• Getting us all up during thunderstorms
• Playing caroms + rook + yahtzee + dominoes + . . .
• All her other somewhat strange games
• Home made ice cream
• Home made pajamas for Christmas
• Hamburgers or barb-b-ques every Saturday night
• Her support of me playing basketball
• Cleaning the Hawley’s and Saultenstall’s houses
• Volunteering at church and Christian school activities all the time
• Loving and helping with Julie when she was so small and weak
• Helping us do homework
• Canning veggies and fruit
• Driving to Atwood in “low” gear in our first car with an automatic tranny
• Admitting to me, after I had admitted to her that I snuck out to a movie, that she had done that also in her youth.
• Her devotion to Marcie while she was in the hospital with a broken neck
• Her being such a great grandmother to our children
• Her being there for me to cry on and with when Carol died
• Her screaming nightmares
• Her intentional hospitality
• Knit hangers
• Importance of family
• Having garage sales
• Trying to get us out of bed on school mornings
• Making doughnuts on Saturday afternoons
• Staining and varnishing her new cabinets when Carol was “newly” pregnant with Amy
• A car accident or two
• On and on and on . . .

Thank you Mom, for being there for me so completely all my years!
LOVE FOREVER


following is a poem i found . . .

Her Hands

© Maggie Pittman
Her hands held me gently from the day I took my first breath.
Her hands helped to guide me as I took my first step.
Her hands held me close when the tears would start to fall.
Her hands were quick to show me that she would take care of it all.

Her hands were there to brush my hair, or straighten a wayward bow.
Her hands were often there to comfort the hurts that didn't always show.
Her hands helped hold the stars in place, and encouraged me to reach.
Her hands would clap and cheer and praise when I captured them at length.

Her hands would also push me, though not down or in harms way.
Her hands would punctuate the words, just do what I say.
Her hands sometimes had to discipline, to help bend this young tree.
Her hands would shape and mold me into all she knew I could be.

Her hands are now twisting with age and years of work,
Her hand now needs my gentle touch to rub away the hurt.
Her hands are more beautiful than anything can be.
Her hands are the reason I am me.

Source: Her Hands, Mother Poem http://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/her-hands#ixzz2NFySJQjn
www.FamilyFriendPoems.com

What Does God's Positive Voice Say About You?
It seems that in this life put downs come easily. Whether intended or not, we are often made to feel small by those around us, even our “loved ones”. Most often this occurs unintentionally, I’m sure, but many times it is done with a hurtful intent.

"It's a dog eat dog world, Woody and I'm wearing Milk Bone underwear”, as this quote from Norm Peterson in the TV show “Cheers” puts it, people seem to be out to make our lives more difficult. Others, for the most part, really don’t care that much about us or our feelings. Some seem to have evil intent but some, I suppose, are merely too tied up in their own problems to consider the effects on others. Many days it seems like the only one we can count on for support and encouragement is ourselves. Unfortunately, after existing like that for awhile the ability to lift ourselves out of the pits becomes less and less effective. Depression, self esteem issues, hopelessness, etc are the result. This is not a pleasant picture, I know.

Some time ago, I came across this particular grouping of scripture texts under the heading of:

“What Does God's Positive Voice Say About You?”

• You are the light of the world (Matthew 5:14)

• You are a child of God (John 1:12)

• You are part of the true vine, a channel of Christ's
love (John 15:1,5)

• You are Christ's friend (John 15:15)

• You are reconciled to God and a minister of his
reconciliation (2Corinthians 5:18-19)

• You are a saint (1Corinthians 1:2; Ephesians 1:1;
Philippians 1:1)

• You are chosen of God, holy and dearly loved
(Colossians 3:12; 1Thessalonians 1:4)

These words are such a joy to me. These words are like receiving life giving water in middle of a journey through Death Valley. I keep them at my finger tips and refer back to them time and time again for reassurance. This is what God, the creator and sustainer of this world, thinks about me - I am His child; I am valued by the only one who really knows the true value of everything. I cannot be loved any more or any less by God based on what others think of me or think that I am. God knows me and has chosen me. I love that about my God, sure He admonishes me, but he is a God of Love, of encouragement, of reconciliation, of glory. His is the only opinion that matters, and His voice, in scripture, says I’m chosen. Grace!

My prayer is that you know this God of grace and that you can believe with me that what these texts say is what is said of you.

“You are . . . .”

CAN’T CALL MOM

I love my mom. My family and I are extremely blest to have mom, now nearly 89 years old, still with us. Some other time I intend to write a nice tribute to mom and how much she’s meant to all of us for so many years but today I just have one simple thought (basically all my thoughts are simple). That is how much I take being able to talk to my mom for granted. I try to call her at least once a week and we try to get to see her two or three times a month but heaven knows I should call her more often. I know that when she hears from any of us it brightens her day immensely. My excuse often is that by the time I can call it’s too late in the day, or it’s been so busy that the week day/nights fly by, etc. The thing that I think I’m missing in all of this is how much I need to talk to mom too. After talking to her I feel better too. She’s still my mom and I’m still her little Freddy.
So here’s the thing I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. My children don’t have this opportunity any more. They can’t call their mom and talk. Every time I think of this fact I get angry, sad, depressed and so on. With two of our three children living out of town now, and with two out of three having, or just having had, there first baby, I know they would be staying in closer contact with us if their mom were still here. I know there would be weekly, if not daily conversations between Carol and our kids. The kids have lost so much and this, I feel, is one thing that they, in particular, lose out on every day. Others in our lives have been wonderful and have helped to “stand in the gap” but no one can take the place of mom, even dad.
I’ve often had the thought that they, others, the whole world would be better off if she could have lived and I had died instead. Maybe that’s wallowing but I still have those feelings from time to time. I really feel Carol would have more to contribute relationship wise now than I have. More what ifs, I guess. . . I pray that I can somehow be the best dad/grandpa I can be for them at least. I pray that the Lord will show me how best to let them know they are not alone and I pray that He will keep showing them that they are loved and held and thought about even when they feel alone.
If you still have your mom, give her a call, often. Make sure she knows how much you love her.

““Mom”
I hadn’t said it in so long. When death takes your mother, it steals that word forever.”
- Mitch Albom for one more day

Hello Everybody

We are hoping this letter finds you well and feeling safely held in the hands of our Heavenly Father. Sorry that our “holiday” newsletter is arriving more like mid-January. 2011 was a very eventful year for us and December certainly continued the trend. Maybe this will start a new January tradition. . .
The year that was 2011 was indeed a full year, full of many blessings. It is hard to believe that this year already marked the five year anniversary of both Lisa and Fred becoming widowed. We are thankful everyday for the way our redemptive God has brought us together and continues to work to blend our families and the hearts of us all to be one big happy family.
2011 will always be memorable to us because of all the major events that took place throughout the year. Among other things, we’ve had kids graduate, get “big boy” jobs, get married, move away and have a baby; except for that moving away part, all very good things. As for Lisa and Fred, there have been no major changes in status. Our health seems to remain good, for which we are thankful. Lisa is still working a few days a week for Paddling.net and has just wrapped up a very busy holiday season with them. She continues to volunteer as a Kid’s Hope mentor impacting a little boy named Konnor in innumerable positive ways. She also finds the time to manage our household amazingly, while still cutting hair part time. Fred continues to work for Monsma Marketing. He was acknowledged at the recent company Christmas party for having been there for 20 years and counting. He volunteers at church as a sound tech and spent many hours this past year helping daughter Amy and son in law Pete gut and remodel their house. One memorable moment from the year for Fred was catching a “good sized” bass on our lake while trolling with his remote controlled boat. Fortunately, the boat eventually won the ensuing tug of war with the fish, but it was quite the epic struggle.
After a quiet January, February started with Kevin moving out of the nest and heading to Boulder, Co where he now lives. He is an avid climber and outdoor enthusiast and finds the mountains there irresistible. We think he finds his girlfriend Beth equally irresistible and with that combination he is absolutely thriving in Colorado. He is working for Boys and Girls Clubs of America and other part time jobs while continuing to look for a full time teaching position. We were happy to spend time with Kevin and Beth over the holidays as they took some time off to head back home for a week or so.
In February Lisa and Fred took a very enjoyable trip to Georgia to visit Fred’s daughter Sara and son in law Josh. Sara is a nurse in the Army Nurse Corp. She is currently an operating room nurse at Martin Army Community Hospital at Fort Benning. Josh works as a salesman and gunsmith at a retail gun store/firing range there in Columbus. While there we got a chance to explore Fort Benning and enjoyed day trips to Atlanta and some Civil War battlefields. We had a great time. The other exciting news from Sara and Josh is that they are expecting their first child in July of 2012. We get to be grand parents again, what a blessing! They were not able to join us for the holidays but we look forward to visiting them again in the warm(er) south this February and definitely again when the baby arrives.
Also in Feb. Fred’s son Matt was offered a fulltime position with Jimmy Johns (yes the freaky fast sandwich place) corporate office. He is a business coach/consultant for them. The job came at a great time for him and we are thankful for it but it did require him to move to the Chicago area. So of our six, Kev, Sara (and Josh), and Matt (and TJ) are the out of towners.
May was a milestone month for two more of our “clan”. Raidel Leon, Fred’s Cuban son, after much hard work and dedication, graduated from Calvin Theological Seminary. We were so very proud of him for completing his goal after moving to this country from Cuba in 2002. Raidel was then eligible for a call to any of the CRC denomination’s churches. Toward the end of the summer a call from Chandler CRC in Chandler MN was extended. Raidel and Marcy visited there and felt the Holy Spirit leading them to accept that call. On Labor Day weekend they packed up all their belongings and their precious, little cutie pie, 10 month old daughter, Celia, and moved to south west Minnesota. The Chandler church will learn how blest they are to have Radel and Marcy be a part of them. Along with Raidel and Marcy we were excited to learn that they are expecting their second child in May.
Bryan, Lisa’s middle child, also graduated in May. He received a BA degree in business from Calvin College. After working for a time at a marina in Holland, he was offered a paid internship at Gordon Food Service in Grand Rapids. He moved from one position there to another as it became obvious that they liked him and were trying to keep him until a full time position became available. In mid December his patience paid off as he was indeed offered such a position and began it at the start of Jan 2012. Bryan lived with us at Shore Way for much of the summer before joining some friends in renting a nice home in the city of Grand Rapids. He still enjoys basketball and plays any chance he gets.
Summers remain our favorite time of year. Since moving to Shore Way, we have enjoyed lakefront living. Almost every weekend we can be found hanging out on our beach with family and friends. Fishing, kayaking, swimming, campfires, fireworks, it’s all good. This summer also included the, once every three year, VanHarn reunion. For a week in July the VanHarns all gathered at a beautiful log cabin lodge on the Pine River. Great fishing, great food, great conversation, great times were had by all.
In September Fred and Lisa took another amazing trip. This time we went west. We were able to stop at Raidel and Marcy’s new home in Chandler. We went to church with them and met nearly everyone from their church. We then went on to the Black Hills area of S.D. and stayed in a KOA Kamping Kabin. It was kind of chilly but fun. We thoroughly enjoyed the area. Lisa particularly enjoyed all the up close encounters with the wildlife in Custer State Park. We then moved on to Boulder where we could see Kev’s apartment and meet his friends. We did some hiking and rock climbing with him and Beth and had an absolutely wonderful time. One of the emotional highlights was being there for a birthday party thrown for Kev by his CO friends. What a joy to see how he is so loved and how much he has become an integral part of people’s lives in the short time that he has been there.
Also in September Lisa’s youngest, Kelli, defined her future a little more clearly. She began as a student at Excel Academies of Cosmetology. She has taken to it with gusto. We are convinced she is a natural (of course she comes by it naturally). She has also taken to something (one) else with gusto. She and her boyfriend have been going together for nearly a year and seem to make a wonderful young couple. Kelli lives at home and so we see her and Alex a fair amount and that is a blessing.
November started out with another huge family event. Matt and TJ’s were married on Nov 5. They had been going together for some time so after Matt took his “big boy” job with JJs it didn’t take long before he popped the big question to TJ. Their wedding was great and we love TJ. It is a blessing to see who God brings into our circle through the relationships of our children. Matt and TJ live in Aurora Il so not too far from home but we still miss them. TJ works full time for a day care facility in their area.
Okay just so we can say December was the frosting on the cake; on December 21 we became grand parents!! Fred’s oldest, Amy and her hubby Pete had their peanut. Benjamin James was 9lb 15oz, 22 1/2 inches long and one of God’s most precious gifts. Mommy and Daddy are doing well and trying to take it all in along with the business of the holidays. Benjamin can enjoy his new bedroom because of all the hard work his mom and dad did on their house in 2011. In late 2010 Pete and Amy bought a “gut it, treat it for mold, and start over” type house in Cutlerville. They, with the help of others, worked on it for months and where able to move into it in the spring. We are very proud of them for the hard work they did. Amy is planning to be a stay at home mom and we are planning to be “spoil the grandkids” type grandparents.
Thank you for sticking with this long letter. I told you up front it was a full year. Hopefully you’ve noticed a theme. We feel extremely blessed. To have such great kids, to have such great relationships, to have each other, and to be held so dearly by our Father, we are blessed.
Our wish for you is that 2012 brings you much happiness and joy. May you see, in new ways, that we serve a God of Love and that His grace is sufficient for any thing that may come our way.

Love,
Fred and Lisa

Is it human nature or is it just me, why do I dwell so much on what I wish I had instead of what I have and on what I've lost instead of what I've gained?

Thank You Lord for what you've so graciously given me.

A little schmaltzy perhaps but this song from the early 70’s keeps coming to mind this week. . .

For Those Tears I Died

Words and Music by Marsha Stevens

You said You’d come and share all my sorrows,You said You’d be there for all my tomorrows;I came so close to sending You away,But just like You promised You came there to stay;I just had to pray!
And Jesus said, “Come to the water, stand by My side,I know you are thirsty, you won’t be denied;I felt ev’ry teardrop when in darkness you cried,And I strove to remind you that for those tears I died.”
Your goodness so great I can’t understand,And, dear Lord, I know that all this was planned;I know You’re here now, and always will be,Your love loosed my chains and in You I’m free;But Jesus, why me?
And Jesus said, “Come to the water, stand by My side,I know you are thirsty, you won’t be denied;I felt ev’ry teardrop when in darkness you cried,And I strove to remind you that for those tears I died.”
Jesus, I give You my heart and my soul,I know that without God I’d never be whole;Savior, You opened all the right doors,And I thank You and praise You from earth’s humble shores;Take me, I’m Yours.
And Jesus said, “Come to the water, stand by My side,I know you are thirsty, you won’t be denied;I felt ev’ry teardrop when in darkness you cried,And I strove to remind you that for those tears I died"

WRESTLING

“Wrestling with God is not a bad thing. It’s impossible to wrestle with someone who is far away from you. You can only wrestle someone who is close to you. Sometimes we interpret it as failure, but I think God sees it as intimacy.” (Stuff Christians Like Blog 1/30/2011)

I’m not sure how common this is with the younger folk these days. Does anyone remember when you were younger (a long time ago for this guy) when perhaps your dad or an annoying uncle or an older cousin would play a little “rough” with you. I remember times like that and they were fun but at times it could be frustrating too. I remember times when the “bigger” person would put his hand on the top of my head and hold me at arms length while I would stand there flailing about trying to reach him. Because my arms were shorter, I could swing like crazy but never make contact. The person being held would often want to stop in frustration while the holder would continue on thinking it was great sport. Sometimes it would be a good old, get on the floor, wrestling match. This was usually fun even when the older loved one who could “pin” you at any time but was just enjoying the play. I remember doing this with my kids too when they were younger and it was always in good fun.
Recently, I came across the above quote on a blog I enjoy reading. (Stuff Christians Like by Jon Acuff) and was struck by the point that we really only “wrestle” with those we love and are close to. (Unless you are into competitive wrestling, which is completely different and not what I’m referring to.)
I am familiar with wrestling with God. As, I’m sure, almost everyone is. In those most difficult times when we can’t figure it out, when we can’t figure God out, when things go wrong and seem so completely different from the way we would do it, we “wrestle” with God. Why, why me , why her! We get angry, we yell, we cry, we feel entirely helpless and sold out. I get the mental picture of God holding my head at arms length while I flail about swinging, kicking but never really reaching Him with my swings. I also see myself, when exhausted by the exercise, falling into the strong, soft, comfortable arms of God and receiving the biggest, lovingest (apparently that’s not a word, spell check didn’t like it, but I do so I’m leaving it in) hug I can imagine.
Many people have told me that it’s ok to be angry with God, that He has big shoulders and can take it. I think, as this quote states, it is more than that. I think God loves us so much He is pleased that as we struggle we take that struggle to Him. That indicates a level of dependence, of intimacy, that we simply do not have with someone we know really doesn’t care what we think. This verse from 1 Peter 5:7 comes to mind “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” Simply put God invites us to cast our burdens, struggles, complaints, anger right at Him because He cares for us, perfectly.
So I will try to remember that. When those things I feel are so wrong inevitably come my way, instead of pouting, having a snit and walking away from God, I pray that I will feel compelled to “wrestle” with my loving heavenly Father and that he will let me have it out with Him until I simply fall into His arms.
Forever Loved

2011


“. . . and don’t blame God, Pat. Death was never his idea. But life is. Please remember that. Life has always been his idea.” The Pawn – Steven James


2011 has arrived. Did you “stay up” as many do to see the clock turn to 12am on the eve of the New Year? It seems as if we stand at the doorway to greet the new arrival, hoping that if we are kind to it as it arrives maybe it, in turn, will be kind to us. After all, many of us have seen several (speaking of myself of course) of these new years come into our lives and with every one we say a little prayer asking for them to be kind. We hope and pray that each New Year will be filled with more blessings and less disasters.

Five years ago we did this very same ritual. When 2006 came to our doorway to join us, we prayed that it would be a blessed year. But for Phil and Lisa and their family and Carol and me and our family (and many others) 2006 was not kind at all. Five years ago today (January 5) Lisa’s husband Phil was taken to his eternal home where he is now with his Heavenly Father forevermore. Everything we know about Heaven tells us that it is an amazing place where our joy is complete, but I’m sure Phil would have preferred to have been allowed to spend a longer lifetime with his precious wife and his wonderful three children, all who were obviously his pride and joy.

Prior to 2006, I would say I didn’t know death. I wasn’t that familiar with it, not in an intimate way. After 2006 I would have to say that I am far too familiar with it. I hate it, it stinks, etc, etc. As Dad VH said, not so long ago, death is so disruptive. It takes a beautiful young family, with a future as bright as the stars and puts a big black hole in it. It changes every thing. Why God?? Why allow this?? Death almost always leads us to question God and his love.

Without getting real religious here trying to explain the why’s, I just want to say that God hates it too, probably more than we can imagine. I love this quote taken from a book I read some time ago. It hit me then as right on the mark, “. . . and don’t blame God, Pat. Death was never his idea. But life is. Please remember that. Life has always been his idea.” The Pawn – Steven James

I pray that whatever happens in 2011, a year sure to be filled with “arrivals and departures”, a year sure to be filled with good things and bad things, that I/you/we can remember that death and suffering were never God’s idea, that life and love and peace are. Phil, Carol and perhaps someone you have loved and lost know that to be true so much more so than those of us who “linger” here on earth.

Blessings to you in this year we call 2011. . .

Army Nurse Corps

My little girl is leaving. As many of you know my youngest daughter signed up for the Army Nurse Corps. She leaves for her initial training in a couple of days.

People have asked me how I feel about this. There are many emotions I feel. I think the prevailing one is that I am very proud of her. After the initial possibility of this pursuit came up, she and her husband thought and prayed hard about this and decided that this would/could be a very positive step for them and their lives together long term. I’m proud of them for the way they worked through this decision that hugely affects their lives in so many ways. It was not an easy choice I’m sure.

At the same time, with her moving so far away, I can easily let myself fall into the feeling that I am losing another very dear loved one. I know I am not “losing” her but she is going to be vary far from home. It has brought some of the grief of losing Carol back to mind. I am trying not to dwell on that. Sometimes I wonder if Sara’s decision might have played out differently if her mother was still here. Hypothetical. . .

As someone said, we as parents raise our children to spread their wings and fly, but when that happens we miss them being close and want to hold on. I know that this experience will change her, but that’s ok. This seems to be God’s plan for the path of her life. I believe He can use this experience to develop Sara into an even more incredible young lady.

“As a member of the Army Nurse Corps, you'll be given opportunities of a lifetime!” This is a quote from the Nurse Corps web site. I pray that this will be so for my precious daughter.

Stay strong, dear Sara, remember that you are loved by all who know you and especially your Heavenly Father.

OK one last entry regarding the book “SAILING BETWEEN THE STARS by Steven James

Following is an excerpt from where he has written about “joy”:

“There aren’t any easy answers to the big questions that haunt us and hunt us down. Friends commit suicide. Grandparents die awkwardly and alone in nursing homes. We get fired. We have affairs. Our kids get hooked on drugs. Time and gravity wear is down as we travel across this vale of tears.
Yet when we have hope, we have refuge. I like how Paul put it: “We do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day” (2 Corinthians 4:16 NIV). Or, as Eugene Peterson paraphrases it in The Message, “we’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace.” And grace is always stronger than my circumstances.
Every day we’re both wasting away and being renewed. When God’s Spirit moves, joy is reborn, and our lives, once new, can continually be renewed through faith and the promises of faith.
Here is what I have to keep reminding myself: pain is real, but so is joy. Every moment, hope is available. Even now peace can be mine. And the sparkling moments of joy that make life worth living are just as much a part of our world as the speeding tickets and funerals. When you take the time to look at both sides of the equation, you realize that life is both more depressing and more delightful that you thought.”

Then later he writes:

There is a heaviness to the lightness of Christianity, a somberness to the joy, a depth to the levity, because for every Easter there is a Good Friday.” . . . “Christians are enmeshed in a terrible, glorious, light and airy, deep and troubling joy”

James states it far better than I could ever hope to but what strikes me is that in the midst of tears and loss and pain and struggles it is possible and even Biblical to have and experience joy. That is an amazing aspect of Christianity that I think is very profound.

Back to the book “SAILING BETWEEN THE STARS” by Steven James

In one section of his book James tells the story of randomly meeting someone in a bookstore and during conversation the other man shared this word picture.

“I picture a quiet lake, and in the lake there’s a boat that’s tied to the dock. That’s all you see at first. But then, when you move back from the picture, you see that the dock isn’t attached to the shore. It’s floating out there in the middle of the lake along with the boat. That’s our society. We’ve tied our lives to the dock, but the dock isn’t tied to anything.”

I’ve been thinking about this concept (dare I say “truth”) lately. When storms inevitably come our way, we are tested. The cliché is “will your anchor hold?”. I think for many of us, we think we are anchored but it turns out our boat is tied to the dock but the dock isn’t tied (anchored) to anything solid. Many of us too easily accept what we are told or even what we are taught without taking the time or effort of “learning” for our selves about the truths of the Bible. I think this is pretty common among our youth, but it is certainly not limited to any age group. “I go to church, my parents have told me this stuff so I guess that must be what I think also“ etc. But when the temptations come, when peer pressure hits, or the storms come, without solid mooring we are adrift.

My hope for you is that your dock is also tied down, solidly. And that you are working to keep it that way.

2 TIMOTHY. 2: 19

TWO YEARS AND COUNTING

Monday the 8th was a day much like any other for Lisa and me. Off to work for both of us. In the evening she had people over for hair appointments and I had volleyball as is the case on most Mondays. But this Monday the 8th of Feb. was a very special day. It marked our two year anniversary. God is good! God bringing Lisa and me together after the devastation that happened in our lives is a gift I am thankful for everyday.

While Monday was pretty normal, our weekend was very special.

Lately Lisa has been reading a lot of books based on the lives of Amish folk. This has peaked her interest in them as a people. Their beliefs, customs, way of life, etc. are something that has intrigued her for some time now. So we decided to take our little overnight, anniversary get away down in Northern Indiana in the heart of one of the largest Amish populations in the country. We had a great time. It’s hard to beat an anniversary dinner at the Das Dutchman Essenhaus. The weather was decent and lots of horse and buggies were observed.

Again, thank you to those of you who keep our blended families in your prayers.
Don’t forget to let your loved ones know how much they are LOVED.

AGATHOKAKOLOGICAL

In my last post I mentioned the author Stephen James and his book Sailing Between The Stars. This is a non fiction work that tells of some of the mysteries of faith from his perspective. I also stated that there would likely be more posts that make reference to this book.

So here is one.

A while back on my facebook status I put --word of the day is “agathokakological”. I though some of my “friends” might be curious enough about that word to inquire into its meaning. No one did, perhaps proving that facebook users don’t care what “friends” write in their status boxes. Or more likely no one cares what I write in mine. Which is ok for me to say because I not so sure anyone reads these posts either. (I digress).

Any way, agathokakological is a term used to express that something, or someone, me, has within them the capacity for good and evil, more literally “consisting of both good and evil”. This paradox of humans being both good and evil is one of the main themes in James’ book.

Following is an excerpt from Chapter one:

"We’re from below and above, bestial and celestial, children of the earth and offspring of the stars. We are an odd race capable of both martyrdom and murder, poetry and rape, worship and abortion. And Christianity explains why: we are both the Spirit-breathed children of God and the expelled rebels of the kingdom…We’ve all listened to the snake. Yet we’re also children of the Father.”

So is this comforting or unsettling? Does this explain a lot or give us an excuse? I guess it’s good to know I am not that different or worse than anyone else, that this condition seems to be part of the “human condition”. But, paradoxically (cool word), it is also sad to know that I have the same evil in me that inhabits the “worst” sociopaths of our world. I’m most certainly no better than anyone else.

So much to think about. . .

Good book. . . I know I will have to write more.

BOOKS

I like to read. It’s really not a love, it’s more of a like or maybe a “strong” like. I know of people that “love” to read. I’m not quite there. At some times, however, right after I’ve finished a book and before I can come up with another to read, there is definitely a feeling of loneliness; something is missing and I am always pretty anxious to find another “good read” as soon as possible.
The other thing about those who “love” to read is (it seems) they read more “meaningful” books than I do. For the most part, I read fiction/novels; I generally have a hard time sticking with most non-fiction books. That’s probably not a good thing as the non-fiction books are generally considered the “self-improvement” types. So I guess I’m missing out on improving myself. . .
One of the cool things that happens when you like to read is randomly coming across a new author, previously unknown to you. I have my long time favorites, Michener (#1), Follett, Iles, Grisham, Cussler, Baldacci and a few others. Recently I stumbled across a few new (to me) ones . Joseph Finder (he actually has one set around the office furniture industry in West Michigan) and Harlen Coben are a couple of my new favorites. There is one more that I am really enjoying right now. His name is Steven James (stevenjames.net). He is a Christian.
There was a review in our denominational magazine of one of his novels and it sounded like I might enjoy it. I gave it a try and am now hooked. THE PAWN, The Rook and The Knight are the three books in the series (best read in order) I am currently devouring. He is a Christian author that isn’t afraid to write about real life evil, but there is a value to everyone in his books, the good guys and the bad. On my facebook page a while back I posted a word of the day “agathokakological”. I thought that was a pretty cool word. It means “consisting of both good and evil”. That is a good description of our human condition. It is kind of at the root of James’ novels.
Steven James has also written some non-fiction books about his faith. I recently picked up SAILING BETWEEN THE STARS. He calls it “musings on the mysteries of faith”. I am totally enjoying it. He points out the ironies and paradoxes that are so much a part of Christian faith (excerpt- “Here, death is the beginning of life, foolishness is the pathway to wisdom, the meek conquer the strong, a lamb tramples a snake, and the almighty Creator of galaxies has a belly button.”) This book is full of stories and thoughts that spark thoughts in my (deteriorating) brain.
I am thinking a few of these thoughts are going to show up here in my blog in the future.
You might want to give this author a try.

Ups and Downs
Once again I am struck by the ups and downs, good and bad, even life and death that come our way.
With our blended family, we have had the privilege of participating in five family Christmas celebrations. While it is somewhat stressful and causes a lot of busyness, I consider it a joy. How can a "celebration" be a bad thing, right? Amongst these holiday gatherings, we have also been blessed to attend two weddings. One of them being my oldest daughter, Amy. Wahoo Amy and Pete. What a joy, a gift, to give my daughter's hand in marriage to a fine young man like Pete. As I've said many times in the last few weeks "it's all good".
In the midst of our celebrating, though, comes the reminder that this life is flawed, that this world is stained. On Monday, the 28th, it would have been Lisa and Phil's 25th wedding anniversary. Marking points such as those are still difficult. Despite all efforts to try to keep one's mind from "going there", it still does. Lisa and I had a meaningful evening of reminiscing. We watched a video of their 20th anniversary trip to Hawaii and also a video of Bryan's speech at his high school chapel during his senior year. It was a speech in which he remembered the day his father died and his journey since that day that has lead to a deeper faith in Jesus as his Lord and Savior.
Then yesterday, as we were preparing to leave for our last Christmas party of the season, we got a call from one of Carol's brothers. Bill and Susan were also attending this party, as it was a gathering of that arm of the family. One of Susan's sisters had been told that she had cancer just about one month ago. She was determined to fight it. Bill and Susan received the bad news that she had passed away yesterday afternoon, just hours before our party. Another young widow, another motherless family, another family missing a dear sister, aunt, daughter. It's so wrong!
That's why we need Christmas. That's why we need a Savior like Jesus. That's why we need someone with the power to save. . . someone to make it alright.
Please pray for the family of Susan's sister as they start the new year with very sad hearts and a hole in their lives that only the Holy Spirit can fill.

A HOME OF OUR OWN
Oh boy! Our Shoreway house is almost complete. There are a few things that need to be done yet but for the most part ….
We can’t wait.
As with many blended families/households our housing situation has been in flux for too long. Lisa and I knew, before we were married, that we had to address the issue of housing. Thank goodness that God places people in my life with more wisdom than I have the horsepower to muster on my own. Lisa helped me see that the best situation would be to sell both of our homes and get something that we could call ours. To have one spouse move into the home of the other in our situation just did not seem like a long term, healthy situation. As many of you know Lisa and her family have moved three times since Phil died. When we move into Shoreway it will be their fourth. We have boxes that they have not opened since moving out of their Woodsboro home in 2006.
When we were married in Feb of 08, Lisa and Kelli moved in with me in the home I had owned for nearly 28 yrs. We began working toward fixing things up sufficiently for selling, but that took time. Understandably that time period was difficult for Lisa. It’s way past time for Lisa and her kids have a place that they can settle into, a place to call home.
Even before we were married we started going through open houses just to get an idea of what might be available and what we may like to look for in a house. At that time we never imagined building a new house. We continued to look throughout the first half of 2008 and in some houses we would like some things and other things in other houses. We never really found one that we really cared to pursue.
Through a series of events we decided to consider building. We found a lot in a nice, new sub-division that a builder wanted to sell, badly. He made us an offer we couldn’t refuse and … here we are. The process has been interesting, at times stressful. We have always been excited about the progress and now the move in date is very near! A new start, in a new home, built on love and grace, is a gift.
We have felt tremendous support during our sojourn from all of you who have kept Lisa and me and our families in your thoughts and prayers. We can not thank you enough. We ask for continued prayer that our new home, Lisa’s and mine, will be a home where the love of God is always present and all who walk through the doors are as blessed as we have been.
Psalm 127:1

DIS-GRACED
Sometimes, it seems, life is full of so many questions. Lately I have been thinking a lot about grace. As a “lifelong” Christian I understand grace. I understand how “amazing” it is. I think I have a good grasp of the concept.
My question is why do I feel so “disgraced” at times? Why do I feel that at different times something quite the opposite of grace is at work in my life? Does grace ebb and flow, increase and decrease? Is grace given then reneged upon? What does it mean to “fall from grace”? Do things I say, do or think cause this (perceived) retraction of grace? If so then was it ever “grace”…? Do I have to earn grace? Is it right for a Christian to assume grace?
I’ve come to believe that grace, God’s grace, is very foundational to my faith. I am constantly aware that I cannot earn love, salvation, Kingdom consideration, without grace. So what happens to faith when that foundation seams to dissolve? Inevitably it gets shaky.
I remember a poster that I had on my bedroom wall as a teen. It showed a chess board with one of the king game pieces on its normal spot and the only other piece on the board was a pawn, many spaces away. The caption said “if you no longer feel close to God, guess who moved”. I know God is constant. His love is constant. I know He is the same one true God yesterday, today and forever. I know that throughout history He has loved and lavished grace on others just as reject able as me. That gives me hope.
Recently, I have come across the following excerpt from a sermon by Lewis Smedes.
“Well, what's so terrific about grace? I’ll tell you. I'll tell you one thing: for me, it gives me courage and confidence to know that the Maker of the Universe is on my side and that the Judge of the whole world accepts me just the way I am, with all my blots and blemishes. The bad with the good all mixed together. He accepts me, all of me, with no strings attached.
Without the grace of God, I think I’d be haunted by a brooding, guilty conscience about some of the harmful things I’ve said and done in my lifetime. But with the grace of God, I can look myself straight in the eyes and say to myself: "Nothing bad you have ever done can get God to reject you." And nothing can get God to accept you more willingly than he accepts you right now.
Some days when we get sick and tired of trying to be good enough to be acceptable to other people, fed up with trying to make sure people like us and accept us, God's grace just may slip inside our ears and whisper to our hearts: "You are already accepted. You are accepted. You’re accepted. And you will never, never be rejected." That, that is what is so amazing about grace.”
I know this is true. I will try to live as one accepted, never to be rejected, a “child” of God!
2 Corinthians 12:9

“The Shack”
I had heard a little about this book titled The Shack and it sounded like something I would like to read so I included it on my Christmas list. Sure enough, I did receive it as a gift, and am now reading it. My guess is that many of you have already read it. It is very thought provoking, particularly regarding the nature of our triune God.
I am not a swift reader and am not able to spend a lot of time reading so I cover only a few pages each day. In this book, on nearly every page, I have found words that are profound to me. As I read them I find myself thinking that I would like to explore certain concepts the author touches on and possibly write about them. But these days, it seems, writing doesn’t come as naturally to me and there is simply less time to do that sort of thing (and that’s ok, I’m not complaining).
One thing, though, that I’ve read recently is kind of sticking with me. In one of the passages the character representing God the Father tells the main (human) character that “life is a process not an event”. For some reason that phrase keeps floating around in my head. I’m not sure why it hits me so profoundly. It may be because of all the “processing” (could make a reference to being in a food processor here but that would be a little melodramatic) that has occurred in my life in the last few years.
We sometimes think of our life, our time on this planet, as an event, I think. Maybe it’s that we look at our lives as a series of events. We merely go from one thing to the next as time goes on and “that’s life”. I have come to understand that a series of events does not equal a process. A process can be defined as a series of actions but with a purpose. A process implies a change or on going developments, with growth and improvement as a result. Maybe the wise among us learn this very early on in life. Maybe for some of us it takes a little more time, like a “process”.
I am thankful that we are not alone in this life long process. I am thankful that the creator of this universe is with us every step. I am thankful that He loves us unconditionally, even when we screw up big time. If we allow Him to lead us, if we will follow, if I will slow down enough to listen, the process of healing, of redemption, of sanctification can continue more effectively.

ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY
God is good! This Sunday, the 8th, is our first anniversary. Lisa and I have so much to be thankful for. Some time ago I wrote about how our lives are like jigsaw puzzles and we work throughout our lives to complete the picture that God intended when he created the pieces. Along the way we lose pieces so the picture has to change. In this past year, Lisa and I have been striving to make something beautiful from the “puzzle pieces” that remain in our lives. Some pieces seem to fit together more effortlessly than others, but, I believe, God is continuing to make a beautiful “picture” in our lives.
Thank you to all of you who have supported us in the past in so many ways. We ask you to keep lifting our family up in prayer as we continue to work at getting our pieces to fit into one, pleasant, and fulfilling picture.