Monday, June 25, 2007
Friday, June 15, 2007
Over the past 13 months I have done a lot of reading. There are a few quotes that, I think, are notable. At different points of time all have been profound to me.
QUOTES
“when I look in the mirror all I see is sadness”
- Young widow bulletin board
“You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday”
Unknown
“Death is the devil’s calling card” Bob DeVries
“Those who suffer loss live suspended between a past for which they long and a future for which they hope. “ A GRACE DISGUISED Gerald L. Sittser
It’s better to have loved… is not working for me.Why, if only to be given so fiercely, and then taken away.
Donna Michele Hill
"The act of living is different all through. Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything." C.S. Lewis
"They told me one day I would go twenty-four hours without thinking of my loss. I told them they were crazy.” Barbara Baumgardner
The worst thing about being a widow/er is the loss of love….When you have a great marriage, it becomes something that goes far beyond friendship. It's having someone who knows you.
Tamsenita
If you're going through hell, just keep going." - Winston Churchilll
““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
"Just give it time," people say. That is misleading. Time alone will not heal your grief.” – Greifshare.org
"I can't speak for the rest of you, but I feel like a different person. I'm not afraid of death or injury anymore.
I'm not afraid of failing or looking stupid. I don't take my career goals, money or my possessions as seriously,
and I don't take the people I love for granted." Tamsenita
“The range of things you need to grieve for may surprise you. Identify your losses and be prepared to grieve for each one.” – Greifshare.org
Along the Road
I walked a mile with Pleasure; she chattered all the way.But left me none the wiser for all she had to say.I walked a mile with Sorrow and ne’er a word said she;But oh, the things I learned from her when Sorrow walked with me!
- Robert Browning
“Keep your heart right, even when it is sorely wounded” Unknown
The sweetest lesson I have learned in God's school is to let the Lord choose for me.- Dwight L. Moody
"Weep freely; share your anguish, your deep concern, but always with the joyful assurance that Jesus is with you. The Prince of Peace is with you, " - Dr. Bill Bright.
“Remember the good times; cherish the memories, but live each day moving forward. Focus your thoughts on what is before you and how you are going to get there.” – Greifshare.org
“Should God place you on the anvil, be thankful. It means he thinks you’re still worth reshaping” -Max Lucado
“If you are no one's significant other, does that render you
insignificant?” -Tansinita
“Pain is inevitable, Misery is optional” – Barbara Johnson
QUOTES
“when I look in the mirror all I see is sadness”
- Young widow bulletin board
“You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday”
Unknown
“Death is the devil’s calling card” Bob DeVries
“Those who suffer loss live suspended between a past for which they long and a future for which they hope. “ A GRACE DISGUISED Gerald L. Sittser
It’s better to have loved… is not working for me.Why, if only to be given so fiercely, and then taken away.
Donna Michele Hill
"The act of living is different all through. Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything." C.S. Lewis
"They told me one day I would go twenty-four hours without thinking of my loss. I told them they were crazy.” Barbara Baumgardner
The worst thing about being a widow/er is the loss of love….When you have a great marriage, it becomes something that goes far beyond friendship. It's having someone who knows you.
Tamsenita
If you're going through hell, just keep going." - Winston Churchilll
““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
"Just give it time," people say. That is misleading. Time alone will not heal your grief.” – Greifshare.org
"I can't speak for the rest of you, but I feel like a different person. I'm not afraid of death or injury anymore.
I'm not afraid of failing or looking stupid. I don't take my career goals, money or my possessions as seriously,
and I don't take the people I love for granted." Tamsenita
“The range of things you need to grieve for may surprise you. Identify your losses and be prepared to grieve for each one.” – Greifshare.org
Along the Road
I walked a mile with Pleasure; she chattered all the way.But left me none the wiser for all she had to say.I walked a mile with Sorrow and ne’er a word said she;But oh, the things I learned from her when Sorrow walked with me!
- Robert Browning
“Keep your heart right, even when it is sorely wounded” Unknown
The sweetest lesson I have learned in God's school is to let the Lord choose for me.- Dwight L. Moody
"Weep freely; share your anguish, your deep concern, but always with the joyful assurance that Jesus is with you. The Prince of Peace is with you, " - Dr. Bill Bright.
“Remember the good times; cherish the memories, but live each day moving forward. Focus your thoughts on what is before you and how you are going to get there.” – Greifshare.org
“Should God place you on the anvil, be thankful. It means he thinks you’re still worth reshaping” -Max Lucado
“If you are no one's significant other, does that render you
insignificant?” -Tansinita
“Pain is inevitable, Misery is optional” – Barbara Johnson
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Who Am I
It’s been thirteen months
-since Carol was led to glory
-since our children became Motherless
-since I became a widower
Sometimes I feel like an old man
-lonely
-remembering better times
-longing for Heaven
Sometimes I feel like a young man
-plenty of life ahead
-excited for the future
-longing for companionship
Mostly I don’t feel like a middle aged man
-self-confident
-secure
-content
Who am I
In the musical Les Miserables, the character Jean Valjean asks the question “Who am I?”
These words are from that song:
“My soul belongs to God, I know
I made that bargain long ago
He gave me hope when hope was gone
He gave me strength to journey on”
This I know, I will trust God for what I don't know.
It’s been thirteen months
-since Carol was led to glory
-since our children became Motherless
-since I became a widower
Sometimes I feel like an old man
-lonely
-remembering better times
-longing for Heaven
Sometimes I feel like a young man
-plenty of life ahead
-excited for the future
-longing for companionship
Mostly I don’t feel like a middle aged man
-self-confident
-secure
-content
Who am I
In the musical Les Miserables, the character Jean Valjean asks the question “Who am I?”
These words are from that song:
“My soul belongs to God, I know
I made that bargain long ago
He gave me hope when hope was gone
He gave me strength to journey on”
This I know, I will trust God for what I don't know.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
THE “C” WORD
There is the saying “the only constant is change”. I had the occasion to do a little reflecting on that this past week end. This was my second Memorial Day weekend since Carol’s death. Last year I merely went through the motions, still dazed and confused. A lot of changes have happened in the last couple of years and being back in Ellsworth for the weekend sort of forced me to think about them.
For years and years, Carol and I, then also the kids, would faithfully go to Ellsworth on Memorial Day weekend. We would attend the ceremonies at the local cemeteries and then enjoy a picnic with extended family and really get summer off to a great start. This year the kids and I went up and the changes were so very obvious. Carol was not with us. My Dad was not there. Uncle John was not there. U. John’s large garden is not there. The children are all growing up. The house I grew up in now belongs to somebody else, etc. etc.
Matt and I took a little walk down around my old home. It was sold two summers ago. It appeared like there was no one there so I looked around a bit. That was a bit sad. We walked along the lake that I used to swim and fish in, strolled the yard we played baseball and football in. I showed Matt the wall I used to pitch tennis balls against. Matt remembered a baseball game when he was pitching and I was batting and I batted the ball right at his head (it smacked him pretty hard). I remembered the surprise fortieth birthday party that everybody knew about except me. Now it’s all somebody else’s land.
Change! Nothing stays the same.
We travel this sod for such a short time. For me, it took a tragedy to really understand that fact. Like Peter says in 1 Peter 1:24 "All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall. . . “. I know, this sounds very depressing, but here’s the encouraging part. God never changes. He is the creator and has been around from the beginning of time. He is the same yesterday, today and forever. (Hebrews 13:8) He is eternal. We, who call Christ our Lord, are, by the grace of God, His children and thus heirs to eternity! We will enjoy an eternity with the saints from all ages and that includes Carol, and my Dad, and Uncle John and hopefully your loved ones also. On this present earth, in our life time, we can expect many “changes” and most of them not what we would call “for the good”. But what a comfort it is to know that God never changes and His love is constant.
As I was walking along the old “paths” of younger days, I could also reflect on the powerful LOVE of God and what a privilege it is to be called His child. Joy and evn happiness does not have to depend on our current "temporary" condition.
Perhaps the saying should be “the only constant is God”!
There is the saying “the only constant is change”. I had the occasion to do a little reflecting on that this past week end. This was my second Memorial Day weekend since Carol’s death. Last year I merely went through the motions, still dazed and confused. A lot of changes have happened in the last couple of years and being back in Ellsworth for the weekend sort of forced me to think about them.
For years and years, Carol and I, then also the kids, would faithfully go to Ellsworth on Memorial Day weekend. We would attend the ceremonies at the local cemeteries and then enjoy a picnic with extended family and really get summer off to a great start. This year the kids and I went up and the changes were so very obvious. Carol was not with us. My Dad was not there. Uncle John was not there. U. John’s large garden is not there. The children are all growing up. The house I grew up in now belongs to somebody else, etc. etc.
Matt and I took a little walk down around my old home. It was sold two summers ago. It appeared like there was no one there so I looked around a bit. That was a bit sad. We walked along the lake that I used to swim and fish in, strolled the yard we played baseball and football in. I showed Matt the wall I used to pitch tennis balls against. Matt remembered a baseball game when he was pitching and I was batting and I batted the ball right at his head (it smacked him pretty hard). I remembered the surprise fortieth birthday party that everybody knew about except me. Now it’s all somebody else’s land.
Change! Nothing stays the same.
We travel this sod for such a short time. For me, it took a tragedy to really understand that fact. Like Peter says in 1 Peter 1:24 "All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall. . . “. I know, this sounds very depressing, but here’s the encouraging part. God never changes. He is the creator and has been around from the beginning of time. He is the same yesterday, today and forever. (Hebrews 13:8) He is eternal. We, who call Christ our Lord, are, by the grace of God, His children and thus heirs to eternity! We will enjoy an eternity with the saints from all ages and that includes Carol, and my Dad, and Uncle John and hopefully your loved ones also. On this present earth, in our life time, we can expect many “changes” and most of them not what we would call “for the good”. But what a comfort it is to know that God never changes and His love is constant.
As I was walking along the old “paths” of younger days, I could also reflect on the powerful LOVE of God and what a privilege it is to be called His child. Joy and evn happiness does not have to depend on our current "temporary" condition.
Perhaps the saying should be “the only constant is God”!
Saturday, May 26, 2007
LIBERIA IV
THE REST OF THE STORY
The flight from Brussels to Monrovia was very pleasant. It was a big plane and was nearly empty. We could stretch out on the middle seats as on a couch and sleep. The flight over northern Africa was interesting because the weather was clear and we kind of followed the shoreline of the ocean. The contrast between the deep blue of the ocean and the dry, brown of the land was highlighted by the white surf. After about a one hour stop in Dakar, Senegal where we had to stay on the plane, we finally landed at Roberts International Airport. This wasn’t like any airport I’ve ever seen. The baggage claim area was a hornet’s nest of chaos. Two of the guys watched for or luggage to materialize while the others watched our pile of carry on bags. Someone tried making off with my carry on bag, but we were able to stop him before he actually grabbed it.
The airport has a lot of what Jonathon Enders called “local bums”. They would grab the luggage to carry it for you without asking but then want money. Or, they would just outright ask for money. We were warned to just try to ignore them. Jonathon and Pastor Payne were there to pick us up and we made our way to the guest house. I was all eyes! I was getting my first look at Africa. Clusters of huts, roads full of walkers, people pushing broken down cars, huts/houses with no chimneys just smoke coming out window openings, I saw a lot of Africa in just that first ride.
We stayed in a mission compound between the airport and Paynesville. It was called ELWA, which stands for Everlasting Love Winning Africa. By local standards it was a very nice place. We had electricity in the mornings and evenings, and we had a fan when the electricity was on.
We were taken to the new school construction site first thing Saturday morning. That was about a 10 mile ride but it goes right through the heart of Paynesville. Two traffic lanes right through an extremely busy market area. We were told to hang onto our things because they would reach right into the car and take things. (We never had that happen) When we got to the job site we had breakfast with Jonathon and Comfort and some other members of the school board. They conveyed their deep appreciation for ours and the other work teams that have come. I wish everyone could hear the passion in their voices when they speak of the school and their vision and the partnership that has developed between them and us.
After this the four of us kind of jumped in and tried to be of help to the crews of local workers that were already there working. The language barrier was much bigger that I anticipated. It seemed to me that they only use the first part of every work. In keeping with Carol’s tradition from Cuba, I wrote down a few of the expressions and some vocabulary:
“yu wal sma” = you walk small = you walk slow
“mo th whe” = move the wheel = keep moving we don’t have all day
Thr wi nai = 3” wire nail
Humu = hammer
Frelly = my name
“wawa” = “Uncle John” would have to explain that one to you.
Etc. You get the idea. It was such a joy to work along side the Liberian workers. There seemed to be a carpenter in charge of each crew and then some younger less skilled workers that were helpers. That’s where we fell in the pecking order. It was neat to see their trust and acceptance of me and my “carpenter skills” increase as the day wore on. It didn’t take long for us to need a break. The local workers worked from 8 till 5 with one 30-35 minute break for about $3-5.00 (American) a day. We worked for about 45 min and needed a water break. Hot and sweaty are the key words. There are no power tools; all cutting is done with a hand saw. Blisters happen!
Each night we were taken back to the guest house before dark (6:30 ish) and treated to a beautiful Africa sunset over the Atlantic Ocean.
Sunday was a treat as were attended the Ender’s church and then Jonathon took us into Monrovia (Liberia’s capital city) and pointed out some of the “sights”. He pointed out an area where in the early 90’s, he and Comfort were caught in the crossfire of a gun battle and had to run. The evidences of the wars are still very visible. Perhaps the most striking reminder I saw was a field with at least thee soccer games going on and every player was an amputee, playing with the help of crutches!!
Later in the week we got involved in some projects out in the community. I really enjoyed this because we met more people right in their home areas and it felt like I was actually helping someone specifically.
Various people have asked if one week is enough time to be there for having to travel so far, I think the answer is yes. The week was a total blessing and flew by but I was glad when it was time to head home. But, I would love to go back! There are tentative plans for a team going back in late August. We’ll have to see how the Lord leads. It gets in your heart. I took a part of them back in my heart and, hopefully, left a part of me in their hearts. The ministry there is not something one can walk away from and ignore once back in the states.
Thank you so much for your prayers and the other ways many of you have supported me in this. It was truly a blessing to be used by God in the way.
THE REST OF THE STORY
The flight from Brussels to Monrovia was very pleasant. It was a big plane and was nearly empty. We could stretch out on the middle seats as on a couch and sleep. The flight over northern Africa was interesting because the weather was clear and we kind of followed the shoreline of the ocean. The contrast between the deep blue of the ocean and the dry, brown of the land was highlighted by the white surf. After about a one hour stop in Dakar, Senegal where we had to stay on the plane, we finally landed at Roberts International Airport. This wasn’t like any airport I’ve ever seen. The baggage claim area was a hornet’s nest of chaos. Two of the guys watched for or luggage to materialize while the others watched our pile of carry on bags. Someone tried making off with my carry on bag, but we were able to stop him before he actually grabbed it.
The airport has a lot of what Jonathon Enders called “local bums”. They would grab the luggage to carry it for you without asking but then want money. Or, they would just outright ask for money. We were warned to just try to ignore them. Jonathon and Pastor Payne were there to pick us up and we made our way to the guest house. I was all eyes! I was getting my first look at Africa. Clusters of huts, roads full of walkers, people pushing broken down cars, huts/houses with no chimneys just smoke coming out window openings, I saw a lot of Africa in just that first ride.
We stayed in a mission compound between the airport and Paynesville. It was called ELWA, which stands for Everlasting Love Winning Africa. By local standards it was a very nice place. We had electricity in the mornings and evenings, and we had a fan when the electricity was on.
We were taken to the new school construction site first thing Saturday morning. That was about a 10 mile ride but it goes right through the heart of Paynesville. Two traffic lanes right through an extremely busy market area. We were told to hang onto our things because they would reach right into the car and take things. (We never had that happen) When we got to the job site we had breakfast with Jonathon and Comfort and some other members of the school board. They conveyed their deep appreciation for ours and the other work teams that have come. I wish everyone could hear the passion in their voices when they speak of the school and their vision and the partnership that has developed between them and us.
After this the four of us kind of jumped in and tried to be of help to the crews of local workers that were already there working. The language barrier was much bigger that I anticipated. It seemed to me that they only use the first part of every work. In keeping with Carol’s tradition from Cuba, I wrote down a few of the expressions and some vocabulary:
“yu wal sma” = you walk small = you walk slow
“mo th whe” = move the wheel = keep moving we don’t have all day
Thr wi nai = 3” wire nail
Humu = hammer
Frelly = my name
“wawa” = “Uncle John” would have to explain that one to you.
Etc. You get the idea. It was such a joy to work along side the Liberian workers. There seemed to be a carpenter in charge of each crew and then some younger less skilled workers that were helpers. That’s where we fell in the pecking order. It was neat to see their trust and acceptance of me and my “carpenter skills” increase as the day wore on. It didn’t take long for us to need a break. The local workers worked from 8 till 5 with one 30-35 minute break for about $3-5.00 (American) a day. We worked for about 45 min and needed a water break. Hot and sweaty are the key words. There are no power tools; all cutting is done with a hand saw. Blisters happen!
Each night we were taken back to the guest house before dark (6:30 ish) and treated to a beautiful Africa sunset over the Atlantic Ocean.
Sunday was a treat as were attended the Ender’s church and then Jonathon took us into Monrovia (Liberia’s capital city) and pointed out some of the “sights”. He pointed out an area where in the early 90’s, he and Comfort were caught in the crossfire of a gun battle and had to run. The evidences of the wars are still very visible. Perhaps the most striking reminder I saw was a field with at least thee soccer games going on and every player was an amputee, playing with the help of crutches!!
Later in the week we got involved in some projects out in the community. I really enjoyed this because we met more people right in their home areas and it felt like I was actually helping someone specifically.
Various people have asked if one week is enough time to be there for having to travel so far, I think the answer is yes. The week was a total blessing and flew by but I was glad when it was time to head home. But, I would love to go back! There are tentative plans for a team going back in late August. We’ll have to see how the Lord leads. It gets in your heart. I took a part of them back in my heart and, hopefully, left a part of me in their hearts. The ministry there is not something one can walk away from and ignore once back in the states.
Thank you so much for your prayers and the other ways many of you have supported me in this. It was truly a blessing to be used by God in the way.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Liberia Part III
AMAZING (G)RACE
Many of you have likely seen the television reality show Amazing Race. On that show teams of people race around the world city to city, airport to airport. The prize at the end of the race is a large sum of money. Our trip to Liberia reminded me a lot of that TV show. The difference is that our prize wasn’t money; it was an opportunity to bring a little hope and encouragement to an area of God’s world that needs both desperately. Our gracious God directed our paths and we made all our connections and arrived in Liberia as planned.
There are many stories I could tell about my week but it starts with our trip to Africa. We were scheduled to leave Grand Rapids at 11:20am on Thursday, April 26. After prayers and farewells at the airport we boarded our plane as scheduled. Then we sat and sat. It seems O’Hare in Chicago was behind and not allowing our flight to take off. After about 1 ½ hours we finally took off. That made the connection in Chicago very close. We caught a shuttle to our next gate, did a little running and made it. Next was Dulles. We didn’t have a lot of time there but made it ok. The next flight was to Brussels. It was kind of strange flying into the sunrise. That makes for a short night. Also, as airplanes are not made for people that are 6’6”, I was like a sardine in my seat, so I didn’t sleep much. We arrived in Brussels at about 8am, that’s 2am GR time. Our flight to Africa was to board at around 10am, we had about 2 hours. We went directly to the ticket counter to get our boarding passes. The person there needed to verify our visas and she discovered a problem. The paperwork we had was quite vague and she suggested we would need to get something more official. She suggested that we get a taxi, rush to the Liberian embassy in downtown Brussels get our visa situation straightened out and hopefully make it back to the airport in time to catch the flight, a very unlikely scenario, unless God wanted it to happen. We raced around until we found the immigration line to exit the airport. We jumped in the queue for a taxi (maybe 100 people ahead of us) and finally were picked up. The taxi driver understood English and understood the urgency. We were zipping around Brussels like something from the movies. Our driver didn’t know where the address was specifically so as he was peeling around he was also trying to find the way from his telephone book sized street map book. After a few wrong turns he did get us there. We asked him to wait for us; he said he would if it wouldn’t be too long. We ran to the door and got there just as the lady there was opening up. She also understood the situation and said she could take care of us quickly. She did. She actually let us fill out some of the paperwork ourselves so it could be done simultaneously. She stamped and signed them all and we raced back out to our waiting taxi, then we sped back to the airport. Traffic was amazingly clear on our way back to the airport. We got there, however, only to find out at the ticket counter that the flight had boarded already. Ron (one of our group) explained that we had tickets and really needed to get on that flight and could she just check to see if we could somehow get on it. The next flight to Liberia would not be until Sunday. She checked with the gate and they said they would let us on. We got our boarding passes and, once again, hustled through immigration, ran to the gate and got on the plane. Was there ever any doubt? No, because God wanted it to happen.
I was thinking about Psalm 127:1, where Solomon writes “Unless the LORD builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain.” Those builders currently working on the Kingdom Foundation Institute don’t need to worry about laboring in vain. The Lord is definitely building this house!
The other thought that struck me was that this whole Brussels adventure happened in the middle of the night back home. Our prayers support was likely sound asleep (maybe except for my Mom). Another of the Psalms I was drawn to prior to this trip was Psalm 121 and verses 3 and 4 really spoke to me of God’s provision in our lives. “(3.)He will not let your foot slip- he who watches over you will not slumber; (4.) indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.”
The whole trip was a faith building experience. It was amazing to see God’s handiwork so evident in all aspects of our trip and in the building of this school. Praise God!
Wow! This is just the beginning. There is so much more to tell.
Stay tuned.
AMAZING (G)RACE
Many of you have likely seen the television reality show Amazing Race. On that show teams of people race around the world city to city, airport to airport. The prize at the end of the race is a large sum of money. Our trip to Liberia reminded me a lot of that TV show. The difference is that our prize wasn’t money; it was an opportunity to bring a little hope and encouragement to an area of God’s world that needs both desperately. Our gracious God directed our paths and we made all our connections and arrived in Liberia as planned.
There are many stories I could tell about my week but it starts with our trip to Africa. We were scheduled to leave Grand Rapids at 11:20am on Thursday, April 26. After prayers and farewells at the airport we boarded our plane as scheduled. Then we sat and sat. It seems O’Hare in Chicago was behind and not allowing our flight to take off. After about 1 ½ hours we finally took off. That made the connection in Chicago very close. We caught a shuttle to our next gate, did a little running and made it. Next was Dulles. We didn’t have a lot of time there but made it ok. The next flight was to Brussels. It was kind of strange flying into the sunrise. That makes for a short night. Also, as airplanes are not made for people that are 6’6”, I was like a sardine in my seat, so I didn’t sleep much. We arrived in Brussels at about 8am, that’s 2am GR time. Our flight to Africa was to board at around 10am, we had about 2 hours. We went directly to the ticket counter to get our boarding passes. The person there needed to verify our visas and she discovered a problem. The paperwork we had was quite vague and she suggested we would need to get something more official. She suggested that we get a taxi, rush to the Liberian embassy in downtown Brussels get our visa situation straightened out and hopefully make it back to the airport in time to catch the flight, a very unlikely scenario, unless God wanted it to happen. We raced around until we found the immigration line to exit the airport. We jumped in the queue for a taxi (maybe 100 people ahead of us) and finally were picked up. The taxi driver understood English and understood the urgency. We were zipping around Brussels like something from the movies. Our driver didn’t know where the address was specifically so as he was peeling around he was also trying to find the way from his telephone book sized street map book. After a few wrong turns he did get us there. We asked him to wait for us; he said he would if it wouldn’t be too long. We ran to the door and got there just as the lady there was opening up. She also understood the situation and said she could take care of us quickly. She did. She actually let us fill out some of the paperwork ourselves so it could be done simultaneously. She stamped and signed them all and we raced back out to our waiting taxi, then we sped back to the airport. Traffic was amazingly clear on our way back to the airport. We got there, however, only to find out at the ticket counter that the flight had boarded already. Ron (one of our group) explained that we had tickets and really needed to get on that flight and could she just check to see if we could somehow get on it. The next flight to Liberia would not be until Sunday. She checked with the gate and they said they would let us on. We got our boarding passes and, once again, hustled through immigration, ran to the gate and got on the plane. Was there ever any doubt? No, because God wanted it to happen.
I was thinking about Psalm 127:1, where Solomon writes “Unless the LORD builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain.” Those builders currently working on the Kingdom Foundation Institute don’t need to worry about laboring in vain. The Lord is definitely building this house!
The other thought that struck me was that this whole Brussels adventure happened in the middle of the night back home. Our prayers support was likely sound asleep (maybe except for my Mom). Another of the Psalms I was drawn to prior to this trip was Psalm 121 and verses 3 and 4 really spoke to me of God’s provision in our lives. “(3.)He will not let your foot slip- he who watches over you will not slumber; (4.) indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.”
The whole trip was a faith building experience. It was amazing to see God’s handiwork so evident in all aspects of our trip and in the building of this school. Praise God!
Wow! This is just the beginning. There is so much more to tell.
Stay tuned.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
The Pear Tree
We have a new pear tree in our front yard. It was planted about one year ago today, Mothers Day. There’s a story I would like to tell about how it came to be.
Our front yard is not large. We have a few shrubs and things around the front of the house and we had two maple trees spaced evenly in the front between the house and the street. Some time ago one of the maple trees started dying. We kept it as long as possible but finally 5 or 6 years ago I cut it down and pulled the stump out. Then I simply seeded over the spot so our yard did look a little unbalanced. We, Carol and I, always figured we would plant a new tree of some species in that spot.
A little over a year ago, the spring of 2006, we got a little more serious about choosing a type of tree to plant. Carol really wanted a flowering, ornamental type and was thinking about a pear tree. The week before she went into the hospital she circled an ad from the Sunday paper showing an ornamental pear tree. I figured she and I would go shopping and get one sometime soon. Then she went into the hospital.
That first week she was really feeling pretty well. We didn’t know what was attacking her and trusted God that in just a few days she would be coming home. One day she told me that it would be nice if I could get a tree and plant it for her homecoming present. That instantly became my job number one. I remember on Saturday morning before going up to the hospital I stopped at a retailer and looked at variety of trees. As God would have it, one of the workers there, and I didn’t know she worked there, attends our church. I told her about Carol’s request and she helped me. We looked at what was in stock and she showed me more pictures. All of which just confused me. I decided not to buy one at that time and when Carol got well enough we would make an outing to go “tree shopping” to get one that she really would be happy with. As most of you know God’s plans were different. Carol never came back to her earthly home at all. There would be no more outings with her. The tree was never purchased. On May 7th she died. That was Sunday, one week before Mother’s Day.
Our visitation for Carol was to start on Tuesday at 7pm. The funeral home people suggested we get there early to have a chance to, I guess, fall apart and get ourselves back together again before others arrived. When I arrived at the funeral home, I was overwhelmed by all the flowers, plants, expressions of love that people had sent. One stands out, there in the middle of the room stood a pear tree with a beautiful note attached. It was from Irene, the person who had helped me that Saturday Carol was in the hospital. Wow!
At the suggestion of my Sister, I planted it on Mothers Day 2006. It seems to be thriving. It’s probably doing better than I/we are. But when I remember these acts of gracious kindness by so many people I know God has never left us. I know He is using people to reach out to us, holding us up each and every day.
Mothers Day is one of those days that can be a real joy or it can hold a lot of sorrow for many varied reasons. I think of a quote from one of Mitch Albom's books that is something like "When death takes your Mom, it steals that word forever". I am sad for my children. They are missing out, for the rest of their lives, on a relationship with one of the most amazing people that they would ever know, their Mom.
We have a new pear tree in our front yard. It was planted about one year ago today, Mothers Day. There’s a story I would like to tell about how it came to be.
Our front yard is not large. We have a few shrubs and things around the front of the house and we had two maple trees spaced evenly in the front between the house and the street. Some time ago one of the maple trees started dying. We kept it as long as possible but finally 5 or 6 years ago I cut it down and pulled the stump out. Then I simply seeded over the spot so our yard did look a little unbalanced. We, Carol and I, always figured we would plant a new tree of some species in that spot.
A little over a year ago, the spring of 2006, we got a little more serious about choosing a type of tree to plant. Carol really wanted a flowering, ornamental type and was thinking about a pear tree. The week before she went into the hospital she circled an ad from the Sunday paper showing an ornamental pear tree. I figured she and I would go shopping and get one sometime soon. Then she went into the hospital.
That first week she was really feeling pretty well. We didn’t know what was attacking her and trusted God that in just a few days she would be coming home. One day she told me that it would be nice if I could get a tree and plant it for her homecoming present. That instantly became my job number one. I remember on Saturday morning before going up to the hospital I stopped at a retailer and looked at variety of trees. As God would have it, one of the workers there, and I didn’t know she worked there, attends our church. I told her about Carol’s request and she helped me. We looked at what was in stock and she showed me more pictures. All of which just confused me. I decided not to buy one at that time and when Carol got well enough we would make an outing to go “tree shopping” to get one that she really would be happy with. As most of you know God’s plans were different. Carol never came back to her earthly home at all. There would be no more outings with her. The tree was never purchased. On May 7th she died. That was Sunday, one week before Mother’s Day.
Our visitation for Carol was to start on Tuesday at 7pm. The funeral home people suggested we get there early to have a chance to, I guess, fall apart and get ourselves back together again before others arrived. When I arrived at the funeral home, I was overwhelmed by all the flowers, plants, expressions of love that people had sent. One stands out, there in the middle of the room stood a pear tree with a beautiful note attached. It was from Irene, the person who had helped me that Saturday Carol was in the hospital. Wow!
At the suggestion of my Sister, I planted it on Mothers Day 2006. It seems to be thriving. It’s probably doing better than I/we are. But when I remember these acts of gracious kindness by so many people I know God has never left us. I know He is using people to reach out to us, holding us up each and every day.
Mothers Day is one of those days that can be a real joy or it can hold a lot of sorrow for many varied reasons. I think of a quote from one of Mitch Albom's books that is something like "When death takes your Mom, it steals that word forever". I am sad for my children. They are missing out, for the rest of their lives, on a relationship with one of the most amazing people that they would ever know, their Mom.
Remember that the acts of kindness you show toward people are appreciated and never forgotten.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
It’s Still Wrong
It has now been one year since Carol’s death. For me the one year mark was just after midnight Saturday night. While that isn’t the May 7 date this year, that is the night I will never get over.
About the only thing I could verbalize that night in her room, when she was lying there dead, was “this is wrong”. It’s not my style to scream and yell and I didn’t know who to scream at. All I could do was cry and keep saying over and over “it’s wrong – it’s wrong”
Now it is one year later and I have to say “it’s still wrong”. I haven’t read or heard or experienced any thing that has convinced me that her death was “right”. I have to believe it is in God’s big plan somehow but I think it is wrong. It is wrong for so many reasons. The positive influence she had on this world is profoundly absent. God what were you thinking?
The timing of my trip to Africa has added an interesting dynamic to this one year mark. I am up and down like a yoyo (I know, that’s a pretty fitting analogy for me). There are so many stories and great memories of my trip then, whap, I wish Carol were here to share them with me. The reunion would have been so sweet. I know we would be spending hours talking about every minute of my trip. We would have had a great time comparing this to her trips to Cuba and it would have been fun trying to convince her that Liberia is hotter and more humid than the pleasant Caribbean island of Cuba. When I got off the plane Amy and Matt were there to great me, that was wonderful, but the other guys had there wives there to greet and wrap their arms around them. That was not lost on me.
I guess the thought that God doesn’t promise that everything will be easy, just that He will help you through all times, still applies.
I still rely on Him and His good people to help me through.
Thank you to all of you who are included in that group.
It has now been one year since Carol’s death. For me the one year mark was just after midnight Saturday night. While that isn’t the May 7 date this year, that is the night I will never get over.
About the only thing I could verbalize that night in her room, when she was lying there dead, was “this is wrong”. It’s not my style to scream and yell and I didn’t know who to scream at. All I could do was cry and keep saying over and over “it’s wrong – it’s wrong”
Now it is one year later and I have to say “it’s still wrong”. I haven’t read or heard or experienced any thing that has convinced me that her death was “right”. I have to believe it is in God’s big plan somehow but I think it is wrong. It is wrong for so many reasons. The positive influence she had on this world is profoundly absent. God what were you thinking?
The timing of my trip to Africa has added an interesting dynamic to this one year mark. I am up and down like a yoyo (I know, that’s a pretty fitting analogy for me). There are so many stories and great memories of my trip then, whap, I wish Carol were here to share them with me. The reunion would have been so sweet. I know we would be spending hours talking about every minute of my trip. We would have had a great time comparing this to her trips to Cuba and it would have been fun trying to convince her that Liberia is hotter and more humid than the pleasant Caribbean island of Cuba. When I got off the plane Amy and Matt were there to great me, that was wonderful, but the other guys had there wives there to greet and wrap their arms around them. That was not lost on me.
I guess the thought that God doesn’t promise that everything will be easy, just that He will help you through all times, still applies.
I still rely on Him and His good people to help me through.
Thank you to all of you who are included in that group.
Monday, April 23, 2007
One Year Ago
Well it begins. One year ago about right now, Monday night, I remember standing in the kitchen with Carol and trying to decide whether to bring her to the hospital or not. Her doctor had made an appointment with a cardiologist for like two weeks from Thursday but emphasized that if she was noticeably getting worse to go in to emergency. She was really convinced that she was getting more and more short of breath and we decided to go in at around 10 pm. We really thought she would likely have her heart checked out and maybe medication or at most a heart procedure and in a few days she would be home and starting to recover. How wrong we were. The nightmare was just beginning.
These anniversary days of her being in the hospital and never returning to her earthly home will be difficult for all who know her. There are also memories of all the acts of kindness our family experienced during this time. The visits, the meals, the many ways that support was shown truly did help. The "why" questions are still not answered. She is missed every single moment I'm awake and many when I'm sleeping. I dreamt of her last night and pleaded with her not to leave this time. If only that were possible.
Well it begins. One year ago about right now, Monday night, I remember standing in the kitchen with Carol and trying to decide whether to bring her to the hospital or not. Her doctor had made an appointment with a cardiologist for like two weeks from Thursday but emphasized that if she was noticeably getting worse to go in to emergency. She was really convinced that she was getting more and more short of breath and we decided to go in at around 10 pm. We really thought she would likely have her heart checked out and maybe medication or at most a heart procedure and in a few days she would be home and starting to recover. How wrong we were. The nightmare was just beginning.
These anniversary days of her being in the hospital and never returning to her earthly home will be difficult for all who know her. There are also memories of all the acts of kindness our family experienced during this time. The visits, the meals, the many ways that support was shown truly did help. The "why" questions are still not answered. She is missed every single moment I'm awake and many when I'm sleeping. I dreamt of her last night and pleaded with her not to leave this time. If only that were possible.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Liberia Part II
The day is nearly here when I will be leaving for Liberia. I definitely need to thank all of you who have made this trip possible. I would not be going if not for your prayers, your encouragement, your donations, and so much more. Your generosity is incredible and very humbling. God is good and I want to be used by Him.
I have talked with some of the folks who have been there on previous trips and that has made me even more excited to be going. That part of the world has suffered so much in the recent past that sometimes I think what I would be able do, or the impact that I can have, will be really quite insignificant, but I also know that’s how God works. He uses the hands and feet of humble servants to accomplish more than we can imagine. I have recently watched two movies set in Africa, Hotel Rwanda and Blood Diamond. I really feel seeing these dramatizations has softened my heart for these people. I hate to admit that it needed it.
Below is a poem from a book by Max Lucado. The books title is On The Anvil. As the title suggests, God sometimes reshapes us through tough times and forms us into instruments that can be used for His purposes. That is my prayer.
An Instrument For Noble Purposes - Max Lucado
Ah, to be your instrument, o God
like Paul to the Gentiles,
like Philip to the eunuch,
like Jesus to the world,
. . . to be your instrument.
To be like a scalpel in the gentle hands of a surgeon,
healing and mending.
To be like a plow in the weathered hands of a farmer,
sowing and tending.
To be like a scythe in the sweeping hands of a reaper,
gathering and using.
To be . . . an instrument for noble purposes.
To be honed and tuned,
in sync with your will,
sensitive to your touch.
This, my God, is my prayer.
draw me from your fire,
form me on your anvil
shape me with your hands,
and let me be your tool.
______________________
Please keep my family and me in your prayers as this is also the time leading up to the one year anniversary of Carol going to glory. It is always on our minds.
The day is nearly here when I will be leaving for Liberia. I definitely need to thank all of you who have made this trip possible. I would not be going if not for your prayers, your encouragement, your donations, and so much more. Your generosity is incredible and very humbling. God is good and I want to be used by Him.
I have talked with some of the folks who have been there on previous trips and that has made me even more excited to be going. That part of the world has suffered so much in the recent past that sometimes I think what I would be able do, or the impact that I can have, will be really quite insignificant, but I also know that’s how God works. He uses the hands and feet of humble servants to accomplish more than we can imagine. I have recently watched two movies set in Africa, Hotel Rwanda and Blood Diamond. I really feel seeing these dramatizations has softened my heart for these people. I hate to admit that it needed it.
Below is a poem from a book by Max Lucado. The books title is On The Anvil. As the title suggests, God sometimes reshapes us through tough times and forms us into instruments that can be used for His purposes. That is my prayer.
An Instrument For Noble Purposes - Max Lucado
Ah, to be your instrument, o God
like Paul to the Gentiles,
like Philip to the eunuch,
like Jesus to the world,
. . . to be your instrument.
To be like a scalpel in the gentle hands of a surgeon,
healing and mending.
To be like a plow in the weathered hands of a farmer,
sowing and tending.
To be like a scythe in the sweeping hands of a reaper,
gathering and using.
To be . . . an instrument for noble purposes.
To be honed and tuned,
in sync with your will,
sensitive to your touch.
This, my God, is my prayer.
draw me from your fire,
form me on your anvil
shape me with your hands,
and let me be your tool.
______________________
Please keep my family and me in your prayers as this is also the time leading up to the one year anniversary of Carol going to glory. It is always on our minds.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Two weeks from today I leave for Liberia. Carol has been my inspiration for much of my life and that hasn't changed. Following is the story of her involvement in the Cuban Music Ministry.
Thank You, Honey, for leading the way!!
CUBA
A few years ago our church became involved in a ministry opportunity in the country of Cuba. Our church places a strong emphasis on contemporary worship. We generally begin our services with a time of singing led by a group of dedicated and talented musicians. Some of those in leadership in the CRC churches of Cuba approached our church about the possibility of sending a team of musicians to Cuba to begin a music academy to help train the people there to be able to play the instruments and to be able to use music as an outreach tool among the people of Cuba.
I’m pretty sure it was in the summer of 2000 when the first small group of musicians ventured to Cuba and laid the groundwork to what would be an annual trip that the Lord has blessed with great results. Each summer there is a youth retreat held in the city of Jaguey Grande, in the province of Matanzas. This is also the headquarters of the CRC in Cuba. Since that first year, one week of the youth retreat has been lead by musicians from Hillside, teaching lessons for piano, guitar, brass, drums, vocals, etc. The Lord has blessed this ministry and today many of those first students are performing and teaching others how to praise God and lead others in praise with their talents. There is a wonderful video of the Cuban music ministry on our church’s website at: http://www.hillsidech.org/HillsideVideos.htm. The video is special to me because it includes an interview with Carol.
Carol and the kids have always been super involved in the music programs at Hillside so when the opportunity came to share some of their passion with the people of Cuba they became involved. Amy was the first to go. She went in the summer of 2001 and 2002. While there she taught keyboards and helped with the singing. After two years she decided to take a break. The next year, 2003, the team needed a piano teacher and Carol couldn’t resist. I remember her being so excited but also a bit scarred. She had such love for children and music that there was no way she could turn down the chance to serve God in this way. Another big reason Carol wanted to go was to meet Raidel’s family.
Raidel is a young man who joined our family in November of 2002. He grew up in Jaguey Grande. Although not a music student, he had worked with the youth retreats there and had become familiar with Hillside Church from our involvement there. He had a desire to continue his education in the US and specifically Reformed Bible College (now Kuyper College) in Grand Rapids. So the call went out for a host family for Raidel. Amy, because she had been to Cuba, knew of Raidel. We discussed it as a family and the girls, Amy and Sara, agreed to share a bedroom so we could free a room up for him. He has been a loved member of our family ever since. When he first came he spoke very little English. Carol, particularly, would spend time with him working on his language skills. On one of our trips to Ellsworth, Carol was driving, giving me a break, and concentrating so hard on communicating with Raidel that she got a speeding ticket. That was her first and only ticket and we all teased her about it. So, another big reason Carol was excited to go to Cuba was to meet Raidel’s mother and family. She just loved that prospect.
Carol left for Cuba on July 18, 2003. Typically the group would drive to Toronto and then take a direct flight to Havana. I remember her telling of how she was really nervous going through customs but God was good and she simply followed the lead of one of the Spanish speaking members of the group. Despite the heat, most everyone getting sick, the busy schedule, she had a great trip. She loved the people who were so grateful our group would come to help them. She remarked that the children were so excited to learn and worked very hard at it. She said the people were extremely friendly and gracious. She had the opportunity to visit and share a meal with Raidel’s family on a couple of different occasions. We have many pictures of Carol and Acela (Raidel’s mother). Each evening, after the daily schooling would wrap up, the group would travel to an outlying smaller town and participate in worship services. At these services the effect of good music was very evident. People came from all around when they would hear our group leading singing. People, churched and unchurched, would literally be standing out the doors and by the windows trying to get a glimpse of the “show”.
In one of my earlier posts, I mentioned that some the kids of our church referred to Carol as the “frog lady” and promised a later explanation, this is the story. Following are the words from Carol’s own journal she would keep of her trip:
“...headed west, went through Toriente around 7:20PM. We arrived in town (Zayas) at 7:50, another very primitive church and very small. We were all set up outside, guitars and me under the porch overhang and everyone else in the yard. We began to play around 8:15. The people were not as lively as the other churches but the mission towns aren’t as used to singing, don’t know the songs and were more observing than participating. We heard afterward that the people really loved the music and didn’t want us to stop. Many people were very dressed up – almost in evening gown type dresses.
Abner told a story about one mom who carried her 9 year old daughter (mentally disabled) from a town a few miles away. They wanted to be there so badly! What a story. About three-quarters through the program we took a short break and Eric pointed out a frog sitting on a beam in front of me. Oh boy! He started to work his way toward me and found a nice perch right above and slightly behind my head. I just told him, “just stay there pal and no one gets hurt!” It was then that I noticed his buddy peeking out of a fold in the roofing material in front of me! Now there were two to worry about. We finished playing around 9:25 and Obed was doing his closing comments when the froggie jumped right on top of my head (slightly back of center). I ducked over and Russ instinctively slapped me on the back, then said “oh, sorry, sorry,” and started going after him on my head – sort of flailing at him. He finally went flying forward off my head. By that time I was sure he had been squashed and I was probably covered in frog guts. Well, he actually made it off me fairly intact. (Although Ade + Deb said they did see slime spray) Very traumatic! ...”
Of course the “frog story” grew in legend throughout the remainder of the trip.
When she got back that year, some of her “anonymous” friends continued to shower her with frogs, plastic ones, stuffed ones, pictures, etc. She kept all these things on display in here office at church, including a candy bucket shaped like a frog. The kids soon found that the “frog lady” always had candy in her “frog room”.
As you can imagine she came back from her trip exhausted but on a spiritual high that lasted a long time. She was thrilled to be able to be used by God in such an evident way.
The following summer, 2004, she had the chance to again be the piano teacher with the Hillside group that again went to Cuba. This trip was memorable for her because our daughter Sara and our niece Melanie also were able to go. The three of them had a great time serving the Lord together in this way. Again there are many stories that could be told of their experiences while in Cuba.
Carol had decided to take a break from going in 2005. Sara and Melanie were again scheduled to go but there plans were change when a powerful hurricane hit the area pretty much straight on. The children’s retreat time was cancelled for that summer and the Hillside group did not go.
In 2006, Carol was so looking forward to going to Cuba again. The problem was that she had committed to playing the piano for the wedding of one of Amy’s friends. As it turned out the wedding day was at the same time the Cuba music team was scheduled to be in Cuba. One of the main reasons she was so wanting to be in Cuba is that Raidel was also going and was planning a wedding ceremony there in his home town. He became engaged over the winter and he and his fiancée, Marcy, were planning a wedding here in Grand Rapids on July 1 and then they were both going with the Hillside group to Cuba. While in Cuba, they would have another Cuban ceremony for his friends and family there. It seemed so perfect, so God ordained that Carol could be there, play the piano for it, and simply be there with Raidel’s mother. It meant a lot to Raidel to have his American Mom there along with his real Mom. She never got the chance to go. In April she entered the hospital and died on May 7, 2006. One of the causes we decided that donations could be given to in her name was the Cuban Music Academy. In July, when the group did go to Cuba, without Carol, our daughter Sara was able to go with them again. She was able to bring them a sizable amount of money and the kind people of Cuba blessed Sara and our family with condolences and prayers and mementos of their appreciation for what Carol had done for them and their native son Raidel.
This has been a long story and God bless you if you made it this far. I believe Carol can still intercede on our behalf. I believe she still intercedes for her beloved piano students in Cuba. My prayer is that God will continue to make His presence known in that area through the work of our Hillside Music Teams. I was proud to share in her Kingdom efforts. Her untiring work for God remains a model for all of us who knew her.
Thank You, Honey, for leading the way!!
CUBA
A few years ago our church became involved in a ministry opportunity in the country of Cuba. Our church places a strong emphasis on contemporary worship. We generally begin our services with a time of singing led by a group of dedicated and talented musicians. Some of those in leadership in the CRC churches of Cuba approached our church about the possibility of sending a team of musicians to Cuba to begin a music academy to help train the people there to be able to play the instruments and to be able to use music as an outreach tool among the people of Cuba.
I’m pretty sure it was in the summer of 2000 when the first small group of musicians ventured to Cuba and laid the groundwork to what would be an annual trip that the Lord has blessed with great results. Each summer there is a youth retreat held in the city of Jaguey Grande, in the province of Matanzas. This is also the headquarters of the CRC in Cuba. Since that first year, one week of the youth retreat has been lead by musicians from Hillside, teaching lessons for piano, guitar, brass, drums, vocals, etc. The Lord has blessed this ministry and today many of those first students are performing and teaching others how to praise God and lead others in praise with their talents. There is a wonderful video of the Cuban music ministry on our church’s website at: http://www.hillsidech.org/HillsideVideos.htm. The video is special to me because it includes an interview with Carol.
Carol and the kids have always been super involved in the music programs at Hillside so when the opportunity came to share some of their passion with the people of Cuba they became involved. Amy was the first to go. She went in the summer of 2001 and 2002. While there she taught keyboards and helped with the singing. After two years she decided to take a break. The next year, 2003, the team needed a piano teacher and Carol couldn’t resist. I remember her being so excited but also a bit scarred. She had such love for children and music that there was no way she could turn down the chance to serve God in this way. Another big reason Carol wanted to go was to meet Raidel’s family.
Raidel is a young man who joined our family in November of 2002. He grew up in Jaguey Grande. Although not a music student, he had worked with the youth retreats there and had become familiar with Hillside Church from our involvement there. He had a desire to continue his education in the US and specifically Reformed Bible College (now Kuyper College) in Grand Rapids. So the call went out for a host family for Raidel. Amy, because she had been to Cuba, knew of Raidel. We discussed it as a family and the girls, Amy and Sara, agreed to share a bedroom so we could free a room up for him. He has been a loved member of our family ever since. When he first came he spoke very little English. Carol, particularly, would spend time with him working on his language skills. On one of our trips to Ellsworth, Carol was driving, giving me a break, and concentrating so hard on communicating with Raidel that she got a speeding ticket. That was her first and only ticket and we all teased her about it. So, another big reason Carol was excited to go to Cuba was to meet Raidel’s mother and family. She just loved that prospect.
Carol left for Cuba on July 18, 2003. Typically the group would drive to Toronto and then take a direct flight to Havana. I remember her telling of how she was really nervous going through customs but God was good and she simply followed the lead of one of the Spanish speaking members of the group. Despite the heat, most everyone getting sick, the busy schedule, she had a great trip. She loved the people who were so grateful our group would come to help them. She remarked that the children were so excited to learn and worked very hard at it. She said the people were extremely friendly and gracious. She had the opportunity to visit and share a meal with Raidel’s family on a couple of different occasions. We have many pictures of Carol and Acela (Raidel’s mother). Each evening, after the daily schooling would wrap up, the group would travel to an outlying smaller town and participate in worship services. At these services the effect of good music was very evident. People came from all around when they would hear our group leading singing. People, churched and unchurched, would literally be standing out the doors and by the windows trying to get a glimpse of the “show”.
In one of my earlier posts, I mentioned that some the kids of our church referred to Carol as the “frog lady” and promised a later explanation, this is the story. Following are the words from Carol’s own journal she would keep of her trip:
“...headed west, went through Toriente around 7:20PM. We arrived in town (Zayas) at 7:50, another very primitive church and very small. We were all set up outside, guitars and me under the porch overhang and everyone else in the yard. We began to play around 8:15. The people were not as lively as the other churches but the mission towns aren’t as used to singing, don’t know the songs and were more observing than participating. We heard afterward that the people really loved the music and didn’t want us to stop. Many people were very dressed up – almost in evening gown type dresses.
Abner told a story about one mom who carried her 9 year old daughter (mentally disabled) from a town a few miles away. They wanted to be there so badly! What a story. About three-quarters through the program we took a short break and Eric pointed out a frog sitting on a beam in front of me. Oh boy! He started to work his way toward me and found a nice perch right above and slightly behind my head. I just told him, “just stay there pal and no one gets hurt!” It was then that I noticed his buddy peeking out of a fold in the roofing material in front of me! Now there were two to worry about. We finished playing around 9:25 and Obed was doing his closing comments when the froggie jumped right on top of my head (slightly back of center). I ducked over and Russ instinctively slapped me on the back, then said “oh, sorry, sorry,” and started going after him on my head – sort of flailing at him. He finally went flying forward off my head. By that time I was sure he had been squashed and I was probably covered in frog guts. Well, he actually made it off me fairly intact. (Although Ade + Deb said they did see slime spray) Very traumatic! ...”
Of course the “frog story” grew in legend throughout the remainder of the trip.
When she got back that year, some of her “anonymous” friends continued to shower her with frogs, plastic ones, stuffed ones, pictures, etc. She kept all these things on display in here office at church, including a candy bucket shaped like a frog. The kids soon found that the “frog lady” always had candy in her “frog room”.
As you can imagine she came back from her trip exhausted but on a spiritual high that lasted a long time. She was thrilled to be able to be used by God in such an evident way.
The following summer, 2004, she had the chance to again be the piano teacher with the Hillside group that again went to Cuba. This trip was memorable for her because our daughter Sara and our niece Melanie also were able to go. The three of them had a great time serving the Lord together in this way. Again there are many stories that could be told of their experiences while in Cuba.
Carol had decided to take a break from going in 2005. Sara and Melanie were again scheduled to go but there plans were change when a powerful hurricane hit the area pretty much straight on. The children’s retreat time was cancelled for that summer and the Hillside group did not go.
In 2006, Carol was so looking forward to going to Cuba again. The problem was that she had committed to playing the piano for the wedding of one of Amy’s friends. As it turned out the wedding day was at the same time the Cuba music team was scheduled to be in Cuba. One of the main reasons she was so wanting to be in Cuba is that Raidel was also going and was planning a wedding ceremony there in his home town. He became engaged over the winter and he and his fiancée, Marcy, were planning a wedding here in Grand Rapids on July 1 and then they were both going with the Hillside group to Cuba. While in Cuba, they would have another Cuban ceremony for his friends and family there. It seemed so perfect, so God ordained that Carol could be there, play the piano for it, and simply be there with Raidel’s mother. It meant a lot to Raidel to have his American Mom there along with his real Mom. She never got the chance to go. In April she entered the hospital and died on May 7, 2006. One of the causes we decided that donations could be given to in her name was the Cuban Music Academy. In July, when the group did go to Cuba, without Carol, our daughter Sara was able to go with them again. She was able to bring them a sizable amount of money and the kind people of Cuba blessed Sara and our family with condolences and prayers and mementos of their appreciation for what Carol had done for them and their native son Raidel.
This has been a long story and God bless you if you made it this far. I believe Carol can still intercede on our behalf. I believe she still intercedes for her beloved piano students in Cuba. My prayer is that God will continue to make His presence known in that area through the work of our Hillside Music Teams. I was proud to share in her Kingdom efforts. Her untiring work for God remains a model for all of us who knew her.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
EASTER
Easter is only a few days off. I didn’t really think that Easter would be another of those “hard” days. It hit me that I was wrong about that a couple of weeks ago in church when an announcement appeared in our bulletin concerning flowers.
Each year, recent memory anyway, our youth group has sponsored a fundraiser in which people can purchase flowers/plants (lilies, hyacinths, daisies, tulips, etc.) in memory of a loved one. The plants are then set all over on and in front of the stage for the Easter services, making a beautiful (and smelly) display of spring time and life. Then after the morning service the plants can be taken home by whoever ordered them. Carol had ordered at least one plant most every year in the past. We have gotten them in memory of our niece,Julie, and of Carol’s Grandparents, possibly others. Last year we ordered one or two in memory of my Dad. This year, when I saw that announcement, wham! I hadn’t thought about that. I was going to have to order flowers in memory of my wife, lover, best friend, life companion; I knew I had to do it. I certainly wasn’t not going to do it. If I had ordered 10,000 plants and filled the entire auditorium it wouldn’t be enough to do justice to her memory. So I ordered one Easter Lilly. When I see her name on the sheet telling who each flower is in memory of, I will tear up and get a big lump in my throat.
I will try to keep in mind the wonderful meaning of Easter for those of us who believe. That Christ’s sacrifice on the cross and rising back to life has conquered death, that death has lost its sting (for now I have to say it stings a lot, but my faith is small), that victory is guaranteed and assured. I will try to remember the words of one of my favorite “Easter” songs where the Angel tells Mary “... Mary why have you come here, with your heart so sad with your eyes filled with tears, ...Why don't you run now, run now, tell your friends Jesus was dead but he lives again!...”.
Easter is about life. Our life span on Earth is just a speck compared to eternity where, because of what Christ endured on my behalf, I will be more alive than ever - with Carol.Maybe if I can remember that, I will not only look ahead to and long for eternity but also be more at peace in this present world.
I will try to remember these things!
Easter is only a few days off. I didn’t really think that Easter would be another of those “hard” days. It hit me that I was wrong about that a couple of weeks ago in church when an announcement appeared in our bulletin concerning flowers.
Each year, recent memory anyway, our youth group has sponsored a fundraiser in which people can purchase flowers/plants (lilies, hyacinths, daisies, tulips, etc.) in memory of a loved one. The plants are then set all over on and in front of the stage for the Easter services, making a beautiful (and smelly) display of spring time and life. Then after the morning service the plants can be taken home by whoever ordered them. Carol had ordered at least one plant most every year in the past. We have gotten them in memory of our niece,Julie, and of Carol’s Grandparents, possibly others. Last year we ordered one or two in memory of my Dad. This year, when I saw that announcement, wham! I hadn’t thought about that. I was going to have to order flowers in memory of my wife, lover, best friend, life companion; I knew I had to do it. I certainly wasn’t not going to do it. If I had ordered 10,000 plants and filled the entire auditorium it wouldn’t be enough to do justice to her memory. So I ordered one Easter Lilly. When I see her name on the sheet telling who each flower is in memory of, I will tear up and get a big lump in my throat.
I will try to keep in mind the wonderful meaning of Easter for those of us who believe. That Christ’s sacrifice on the cross and rising back to life has conquered death, that death has lost its sting (for now I have to say it stings a lot, but my faith is small), that victory is guaranteed and assured. I will try to remember the words of one of my favorite “Easter” songs where the Angel tells Mary “... Mary why have you come here, with your heart so sad with your eyes filled with tears, ...Why don't you run now, run now, tell your friends Jesus was dead but he lives again!...”.
Easter is about life. Our life span on Earth is just a speck compared to eternity where, because of what Christ endured on my behalf, I will be more alive than ever - with Carol.Maybe if I can remember that, I will not only look ahead to and long for eternity but also be more at peace in this present world.
I will try to remember these things!
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
LIBERIA Part I
The following post will look familiar to many of you; it is essentially the same as the letter I sent to many family and friends explaining my upcoming trip to Liberia.
A year ago our care circle group from church studied a book entitled "If You Want To Walk On Water, You’ve Got To Get Out Of The Boat" by John Ortberg. This book encouraged us to get out of our “comfort zone” when it comes to serving God. We were challenged to actually do something for God’s Kingdom. When I thought about what I could do, using the gifts I’ve been given, my mind always came around to work projects, somewhere, wherever. Carol and our daughters, Amy and Sara, have each had the opportunity to serve God with their musical skills in Cuba, but, as I possess no musical skills nor do I speak Spanish, that would not be an option for me. Carol and I had actually talked about this often in the past and had looked forward to doing trips that are more “service” oriented together in the future. I guess we were waiting for the kids to be grown up so our vacation time would be more available.
One year later, God, in His wisdom, which I will never understand, has allowed Carol to be taken from us. This has led to much pain, much soul searching and many thoughts about “what do I do now?” I am actively trying to do the things experts tell those in my situation to do. One of these “tasks of grief” that is more outward focused is volunteering, or doing something to serve others. That is what I feel I am called to do at this time.
As many of you know our church has been involved in helping to develop a Christian School in the country of Liberia, West Africa. Through a relationship with Partners For Learning Across Cultures, Hillside Community Church has already supported two groups that have traveled to Liberia. There is now another group scheduled to go and I have felt the Holy Spirit “nudge” me to be part of it. We are assisting in the work begun by Comfort and Jonathon Enders. Comfort Enders is a young lady from Liberia that came to the United States to further her education. She was an educator in her country and believed that for her country to progress providing an education to the youth is a key. While attending a college in our area she attended our church, Hillside Community Church, and everyone who got to meet her and hear her story came to appreciate what she was trying to accomplish. During the time she was with us was when Carol entered the hospital and died. Carol and Comfort had become good friends in the short time that they knew each other. That is another reason I am drawn to serve in this particular service project. Our group will be assisting Liberian construction workers as they continue to build a school building. In the process we can share our lives and faith with them. The school, Kingdom Foundation Institute, is already being used by God to educate the youth of the area recently devastated by civil war. It is exciting to be a part of a project where God is so absolutely involved. The dates for our trip are April 26-May 5.
I am excited about going on this trip. I feel it will help to heal some of the pain I’ve had to deal with. It will help to define who I am as a single person without Carol by my side. I definitely need your prayers. I need prayers for health, for strength, both physical and emotional, for proper preparation, and for a servant heart. I pray that I may come back from such a trip a better, more Christ like, person
You probably noticed that I put “part one” in my heading for this post. I will continue to post news relating to this trip.
Thank You for your prayers on my behalf!
The following post will look familiar to many of you; it is essentially the same as the letter I sent to many family and friends explaining my upcoming trip to Liberia.
A year ago our care circle group from church studied a book entitled "If You Want To Walk On Water, You’ve Got To Get Out Of The Boat" by John Ortberg. This book encouraged us to get out of our “comfort zone” when it comes to serving God. We were challenged to actually do something for God’s Kingdom. When I thought about what I could do, using the gifts I’ve been given, my mind always came around to work projects, somewhere, wherever. Carol and our daughters, Amy and Sara, have each had the opportunity to serve God with their musical skills in Cuba, but, as I possess no musical skills nor do I speak Spanish, that would not be an option for me. Carol and I had actually talked about this often in the past and had looked forward to doing trips that are more “service” oriented together in the future. I guess we were waiting for the kids to be grown up so our vacation time would be more available.
One year later, God, in His wisdom, which I will never understand, has allowed Carol to be taken from us. This has led to much pain, much soul searching and many thoughts about “what do I do now?” I am actively trying to do the things experts tell those in my situation to do. One of these “tasks of grief” that is more outward focused is volunteering, or doing something to serve others. That is what I feel I am called to do at this time.
As many of you know our church has been involved in helping to develop a Christian School in the country of Liberia, West Africa. Through a relationship with Partners For Learning Across Cultures, Hillside Community Church has already supported two groups that have traveled to Liberia. There is now another group scheduled to go and I have felt the Holy Spirit “nudge” me to be part of it. We are assisting in the work begun by Comfort and Jonathon Enders. Comfort Enders is a young lady from Liberia that came to the United States to further her education. She was an educator in her country and believed that for her country to progress providing an education to the youth is a key. While attending a college in our area she attended our church, Hillside Community Church, and everyone who got to meet her and hear her story came to appreciate what she was trying to accomplish. During the time she was with us was when Carol entered the hospital and died. Carol and Comfort had become good friends in the short time that they knew each other. That is another reason I am drawn to serve in this particular service project. Our group will be assisting Liberian construction workers as they continue to build a school building. In the process we can share our lives and faith with them. The school, Kingdom Foundation Institute, is already being used by God to educate the youth of the area recently devastated by civil war. It is exciting to be a part of a project where God is so absolutely involved. The dates for our trip are April 26-May 5.
I am excited about going on this trip. I feel it will help to heal some of the pain I’ve had to deal with. It will help to define who I am as a single person without Carol by my side. I definitely need your prayers. I need prayers for health, for strength, both physical and emotional, for proper preparation, and for a servant heart. I pray that I may come back from such a trip a better, more Christ like, person
You probably noticed that I put “part one” in my heading for this post. I will continue to post news relating to this trip.
Thank You for your prayers on my behalf!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
When I got up this morning I found a paper with this poem on it lying on the floor in my path. I don’t know if it tumbled down from my stack during the night or if one of the kids placed it in my room as I slept, but however it got there, it spoke to me today.
COURAGE
Sometimes....................
Courage is not a battle
Fought with banners high,
Forces gathered bravely
Against a threatening sky.
Sometimes....................
Courage is a quiet thing
With flags that do not show,
The going down a lonely road
You did not want to go.
Sometimes....................
It is the staying
When a brighter path may beckon,
Steadfastly held by duty
Where another man might weaken.
Sometimes....................
Courage asks commitment
Of a nobler, finer kind
When the battle fought and won
Is the conquest of the mind.
By Margaret Freer
COURAGE
Sometimes....................
Courage is not a battle
Fought with banners high,
Forces gathered bravely
Against a threatening sky.
Sometimes....................
Courage is a quiet thing
With flags that do not show,
The going down a lonely road
You did not want to go.
Sometimes....................
It is the staying
When a brighter path may beckon,
Steadfastly held by duty
Where another man might weaken.
Sometimes....................
Courage asks commitment
Of a nobler, finer kind
When the battle fought and won
Is the conquest of the mind.
By Margaret Freer
Sunday, March 18, 2007
I wrote the following to preserve these memories for me, and perhaps for future generations. I have posted it now because it was thirty years ago this week that we became engaged.
The picture on the right was taken on our honeymoon.
The picture on the right was taken on our honeymoon.
A God Thing
You know how some things, some circumstances, are just so right that you know it must be a “God thing”? I’m not talking about the cliché “it feels good, so it must be right”, I’m talking about God arranging the circumstances and things come together in a perfect way. That’s how Carol and I were brought together.
Just a little over thirty years ago, we were both twenty years old and God brought ours lives together in a way only He could. Here’s the story.
I grew up in Ellsworth. Ellsworth is a small community in northern Michigan. My class had 18 kids graduate from high school. If one wanted to go to college you really had to leave home to do it. I had decided to go to Grand Rapids to attend Calvin College in the fall of 1974. I was 17 years old when I “went away to college”. There is a small CRC church in Ellsworth that was my home church. Our Pastor at the time was Rev. Marvin Vander Vliet. Pastor Marve and his wife spent a lot of time with our family and I considered him a friend and mentor. After one year attending Calvin College I transferred to Davenport College which is also in Grand Rapids. I moved off campus and my cousin, Stan, and I rented a very small house in the Grand Rapids area. In the summer of 1976 Pastor Marve took a call to a church called Cutlerville Hills CRC on the south side of Grand Rapids. I remember being bummed that we, Ellsworth, would be losing him. Through another set of circumstances (another story with God’s involvement) in the fall of 1976, Stan and I ended up renting a mobile home in the heart of Cutlerville. Stan was attending Calvin Seminary at the time and they started their fall semester some three weeks earlier that Davenport College did. So that year when I moved back down to the big city Stan had been down for a few weeks. In that time he went and got himself a girl friend. Yipes! That was really not high on my priority list, but it happens. Stan and I used to do lots of things together. We played tennis, handball, ping pong, basketball (intramural leagues at Calvin even though I didn’t go there), we bowled and golfed, went to movies, etc, etc. I was fine with that arrangement but apparently he felt something was missing in our relationship. So he found a girl. By the time I moved down that fall he was pretty occupied and I got lonely. I guess that’s when I started thinking about dating and courtship and girls and all that serious life stuff.
Also being in this new (to me) area of Cutlerville, I needed to find a church to attend on Sundays. I remembered that Pastor Marve had taken a call to one of the churches in Cutlerville. So I started attending the services there. At this time Pastor Marve had not moved to Cutlerville yet, but I knew he would be there soon. Of coarse, as a twenty year old male, one of my criteria for which church to attend was its “supply” (kind of searching for the right word to use here so as not to offend) of young ladies. Cutlerville Hills would do just fine in that regard as well, I soon confirmed.
Later in the fall, after Pastor Marve had been at Hills a while, he and I talked about starting a post high young adult group. Because he knew me and knew I was alone at the trailer most of the time, my place would be a good place to have the group meet. That sounded good to me. We put an announcement in the bulletin that a new post high youth group was going to be meeting at Fred Vail’s trailer at such and such address on Sunday night at 7pm or whatever. The fun part was that nobody knew who Fred Vail was and our trailer was in a park that did not have a good reputation at the time. So it wasn’t a sure thing that anyone would show up. We did meet and had a pretty good group of 8 or 9 faithful members. One of them was this sweet, shy, cute girl with a beautiful smile, named Carol. God literally brought her to my door and into my life. Carol told of how she almost didn’t come. She and her parents didn’t know me and, like I said, the trailer park was a little iffy, but she took the step to be involved.
Carol’s story, as I know it, goes something like this. She was shy but confident. She did not date a lot in high school. She was now in her third year at Calvin. I think she had her eyes on some guys that may have been “possibilities” but was not in a relationship with anyone at the time. I know she did not consider her situation to be desperate. She lived at home and commuted to Calvin. She was involved in a lot of the social activities at Calvin. She enjoyed the “rhythmic movement” (dare we say dancing) activities for students. She had her circle of close friends that did things together as well. But I think she was ready for a more serious relationship with a guy.
After a few meetings at my trailer, we all got to know each other better. I started looking for Carol at church and I think she started looking for me. I remember I would see her family come into church together and she would always sit next to this same guy. I thought “rats, she has a boyfriend” but I came to learn that that was her brother Dave. I found out that she worked at the local library. Now at that time I wasn’t a big library kind of guy but I did start visiting it more frequently. She was always friendly toward me and, from my dating history in which that usually wasn’t the case, I took that as encouragement. I found other reasons to interact with this sweet young thing. I remember calling her to ask if the copying machine at the library would copy erasable typing paper. Dumb question, I know, but if you remember erasable typing paper it is very thin and transparent so I thought that might be a problem. I really just wanted to talk to her. Around Thanksgiving time I got up the courage to ask her out. Our first date was in early December and was a South Christian HS (her alma mater) basketball game. I remember nothing about the game; I only remember we talked the whole time. If you know us, you know that neither of us are big talkers. It was like we just hit it off immediately. I told about my life and she listened. She talked about her life and I was enthralled. Something clicked right from the beginning and I definitely wanted to get to know her better. After that we were together a lot. It was hard leaving to go back to Ellsworth for the holiday break. I missed her. As it turned out she came to Ellsworth and stayed a few days with us. Wow!! She rode up with Stan and Barb on a slippery, winter night. She was very nervous about the trip but did so showing courage and faith. My family loved her, obviously. We did a lot of talking during that time she was in Ellsworth and already then we were starting to think (I know I was) that this is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.
In the early months of 1977 we spent a lot of time together. I was invited to Sunday dinner with her family almost every week. She would bake pies and cakes for Stan and me to enjoy. She would spend a lot of evenings at our trailer. I remember watching the entire “Roots” mini-series with her. There is the story of her having three dates in one night. That was either December of 1976 or January of 1977. I think she wasn’t for sure about me yet and had a couple of guys from Calvin on the line. There was some event at Calvin that one of them asked her to, the other one had asked her to go to dinner with him early in the evening and I had asked her to stop by later in the evening, she did all three. The good thing is I had the opportunity to make the last impression, too bad for those other guys. I think that’s the last time she dated anyone other than me. We definitely fell in love.
Many times then, and all through our marriage, I could only praise God for bringing a wonderful person like Carol into my life. How could I be so fortunate? Why would such a uniquely wonderful person love me and chose to spend her life with me? I finished with an Associate Degree from Davenport after the winter term in 1977. I got my first full time job on the north side of Grand Rapids shortly after that. In March of that year we decided we would get married. I didn’t do a grand proposal. Our style was more like “what do you think about getting married?” We shopped for rings together. She didn’t demand an expensive ring. She knew neither of us had any money. She was always like that. She never needed the fanciest house or a brand new car. She was always content with what we could afford. The next few months were a blur. We set a wedding date of August 5, the day before my twenty-first birthday. We went from 0 to married in about nine months! As I’ve stated before, that was the most correct thing I’ve ever done in my life.
Our honeymoon was a brief trip to Mackinac Island. It was a glorious start to a wonderful marriage. I was so blessed to have been her husband. I think she would say that she was blessed as well. Never has a man loved a woman more than I loved her. On August 5, 2002 we celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary. As many friends told us “that’s just a good start” and that’s really what I believed. We were both healthy and active and we expected to have many more years together. We didn’t do a big trip or anything for our 25th we talked about doing something special for our 30th as the kids would be out of school, etc. This year, 2007, would have been our 30th obviously that anniversary trip will never happen.
I know many people have similar stories about how God has worked so intricately in their lives. I also know that many people long for that. They long for God to bring Mr. or Miss Wonderful to their doorstep. Even after they’re married there are those that wish God would bless their union and, for them, it doesn’t seem to happen that way. I am amazed at the way God blessed me by bringing Carol into my life. I’ve been asked by others “How do I know if this is the person I should marry? If this is who God has intended for me?” I am eternally grateful that God chose to make it beautifully obvious for me.
I was blessed!
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
10 Months Today
Today marks 10 months since my worst nightmare came to be. It certainly does not seem like it could be that long. But when I look back and remember some of the markers in this time I know it has been that long. I remember the visitation and funeral, I remember the Children's Ministry Lunch at church that her friends put on in her honor. I remember moving Amy back home after finishing the year in Mishawaka. I remember Memorial Day up north when my Uncle Fred was honored at the ceremony at the Norwood Cemetery. I remember seeing Uncle Johnny days before he died and asking him to tell Carol how much we all miss her when he would soon see her in heaven. I remember going ahead with the vacation we had planned together but now with the four of us and missing her every minute of it. I remember the back to back days of our anniversary and my birthday in August. I remember her birhtday in January. I remember all the other firsts, all the holidays alone, especially New Years Eve and Valentine's Day. I look back and remember the six monthly Young Widowed Support Group meetings I've attended after I finally got up the courage to go the first time. I remember some 300 mornings waking up alone. I remember countless meals and prayers and expressions of love that were sent in our direction. When I think of all these things and more, I know it's been ten months.
Seems like ten years!!
Today marks 10 months since my worst nightmare came to be. It certainly does not seem like it could be that long. But when I look back and remember some of the markers in this time I know it has been that long. I remember the visitation and funeral, I remember the Children's Ministry Lunch at church that her friends put on in her honor. I remember moving Amy back home after finishing the year in Mishawaka. I remember Memorial Day up north when my Uncle Fred was honored at the ceremony at the Norwood Cemetery. I remember seeing Uncle Johnny days before he died and asking him to tell Carol how much we all miss her when he would soon see her in heaven. I remember going ahead with the vacation we had planned together but now with the four of us and missing her every minute of it. I remember the back to back days of our anniversary and my birthday in August. I remember her birhtday in January. I remember all the other firsts, all the holidays alone, especially New Years Eve and Valentine's Day. I look back and remember the six monthly Young Widowed Support Group meetings I've attended after I finally got up the courage to go the first time. I remember some 300 mornings waking up alone. I remember countless meals and prayers and expressions of love that were sent in our direction. When I think of all these things and more, I know it's been ten months.
Seems like ten years!!
Thursday, March 01, 2007
MUSIC
Music is such a gift to me. I believe music is one of the gifts God designed into His world for our pleasure. I believe that to appreciate music is also a gift. I am blessed to have been born into an extended family that always enjoyed music. Whether it was praising God with hymns and songs in church or playing the harmonica and accordion at family gatherings, my uncles and others demonstrated their love of music to us “younger” folk.
When I got a little older, “modern” music was just becoming popular in the mainstream. I remember the local radio station would have a program they called “music for moderns” that would air from 3-4pm on weekdays only. I would intentionally make time to listen to that program hoping to hear the latest from the Beatles or some of the “one hit wonders” of the era. Another influence on me was my cousin Jake. He is very musically gifted. He could (and still can) play many instruments, but when he took up guitar, that was way cool. I tried but never got to the point of playing anything but the radio. My sister is very skilled at the piano and I remember many nights Jake would bring his guitar to our house and we would gather around the piano and have a great time pretending we were John Denver or Cat Stevens or others.
It was at this time in my life when God stepped in and started using the music I was listening to as a way to reach me. A new “genre” of music was just developing right about then. It was “Jesus music” or “Christian rock”. It had many labels and is now lumped into the category called contemporary Christian Music. God used people like Randy Matthews, Larry Norman, Chuck Girard and a few others to break the ground and bring “rock and roll for Jesus” into the light. Because this was so “radical” at the time, many of these artists were criticized and worse for their ministries. My cousin, Jake, and I could not get enough of it. If one of us didn’t buy a new album when it came out, the other did. We couldn’t wait to get each other’s albums and record them onto our recordable 8-track tapes. I actually have a void in my knowledge of “classic” secular rock music because I pretty much only listened to the Christian artists. That was at a time when I was a new Christian and God used the words and music of these individuals to keep me close to Him.
When God so perfectly arranged for me to meet and marry Carol, I was then blessed with a wife who cherished music. She was a gifted musician and loved to use her gifts to praise and honor God. I warmly remember many times when just she and I would be at the piano singing hymns and praise songs together. Our neighbors would comment how they were glad when it was summer and the windows could be opened and they could take walks and hear Carol’s piano playing (not my singing) throughout the neighborhood as they walked. They told me at the funeral home how much they will miss that, yep-me too. When our children were little and Carol was a “stay at home” Mom, she was looking for a way to contribute to the family’s finances. She came up with the excellent idea of teaching piano lessons. By doing that she could combine her love for children, music and teaching. As you can imagine, she was a superb piano teacher. Many of her former students have expressed their appreciation and fond memories of those times they came to Mrs. Vail’s house for piano lessons.
I am now blessed that our children have a love for music like their parents. They are so gifted musically. I remember a few Christmas services at our church when Carol’s Mom was playing the organ and Carol and Amy would be doing a four handed thing on the piano. Three generations, playing the Hallelujah Chorus together, and praising God together with their talents. God continues to minister to me with music through our children. It is exciting to see how the love of music and skills that Carol helped prepare in our children has had an impact across generations and cultures. Carol and our daughters, Amy and Sara, have each traveled to Cuba to teach and share their musical talents at a youth retreat for the area churches of that island country.
Now it is 2007 and for some reason I will never understand, God allowed Carol to be taken from me. I am most certainly at the lowest point of my entire life as a result. But even through this deep grief I can sing. I still have a song in my heart. In a small way the songs in my heart work to neutralize some of the grief. At the funeral we sang a song Amy wrote called “In Your Presence” and others and even then God was using music to calm me and to speak to me. Since that day, when I listen to music, usually Christian music but not always, there are songs that just shoot right to my heart. As He did when I was a young Christian, God is still using the gift of music to keep me close to Him. God wove this thread of music into my life as a child and it has been a tangible lifeline to Him even now.
Thank You, Lord, for the gift of music in my life.
Music is such a gift to me. I believe music is one of the gifts God designed into His world for our pleasure. I believe that to appreciate music is also a gift. I am blessed to have been born into an extended family that always enjoyed music. Whether it was praising God with hymns and songs in church or playing the harmonica and accordion at family gatherings, my uncles and others demonstrated their love of music to us “younger” folk.
When I got a little older, “modern” music was just becoming popular in the mainstream. I remember the local radio station would have a program they called “music for moderns” that would air from 3-4pm on weekdays only. I would intentionally make time to listen to that program hoping to hear the latest from the Beatles or some of the “one hit wonders” of the era. Another influence on me was my cousin Jake. He is very musically gifted. He could (and still can) play many instruments, but when he took up guitar, that was way cool. I tried but never got to the point of playing anything but the radio. My sister is very skilled at the piano and I remember many nights Jake would bring his guitar to our house and we would gather around the piano and have a great time pretending we were John Denver or Cat Stevens or others.
It was at this time in my life when God stepped in and started using the music I was listening to as a way to reach me. A new “genre” of music was just developing right about then. It was “Jesus music” or “Christian rock”. It had many labels and is now lumped into the category called contemporary Christian Music. God used people like Randy Matthews, Larry Norman, Chuck Girard and a few others to break the ground and bring “rock and roll for Jesus” into the light. Because this was so “radical” at the time, many of these artists were criticized and worse for their ministries. My cousin, Jake, and I could not get enough of it. If one of us didn’t buy a new album when it came out, the other did. We couldn’t wait to get each other’s albums and record them onto our recordable 8-track tapes. I actually have a void in my knowledge of “classic” secular rock music because I pretty much only listened to the Christian artists. That was at a time when I was a new Christian and God used the words and music of these individuals to keep me close to Him.
When God so perfectly arranged for me to meet and marry Carol, I was then blessed with a wife who cherished music. She was a gifted musician and loved to use her gifts to praise and honor God. I warmly remember many times when just she and I would be at the piano singing hymns and praise songs together. Our neighbors would comment how they were glad when it was summer and the windows could be opened and they could take walks and hear Carol’s piano playing (not my singing) throughout the neighborhood as they walked. They told me at the funeral home how much they will miss that, yep-me too. When our children were little and Carol was a “stay at home” Mom, she was looking for a way to contribute to the family’s finances. She came up with the excellent idea of teaching piano lessons. By doing that she could combine her love for children, music and teaching. As you can imagine, she was a superb piano teacher. Many of her former students have expressed their appreciation and fond memories of those times they came to Mrs. Vail’s house for piano lessons.
I am now blessed that our children have a love for music like their parents. They are so gifted musically. I remember a few Christmas services at our church when Carol’s Mom was playing the organ and Carol and Amy would be doing a four handed thing on the piano. Three generations, playing the Hallelujah Chorus together, and praising God together with their talents. God continues to minister to me with music through our children. It is exciting to see how the love of music and skills that Carol helped prepare in our children has had an impact across generations and cultures. Carol and our daughters, Amy and Sara, have each traveled to Cuba to teach and share their musical talents at a youth retreat for the area churches of that island country.
Now it is 2007 and for some reason I will never understand, God allowed Carol to be taken from me. I am most certainly at the lowest point of my entire life as a result. But even through this deep grief I can sing. I still have a song in my heart. In a small way the songs in my heart work to neutralize some of the grief. At the funeral we sang a song Amy wrote called “In Your Presence” and others and even then God was using music to calm me and to speak to me. Since that day, when I listen to music, usually Christian music but not always, there are songs that just shoot right to my heart. As He did when I was a young Christian, God is still using the gift of music to keep me close to Him. God wove this thread of music into my life as a child and it has been a tangible lifeline to Him even now.
Thank You, Lord, for the gift of music in my life.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Dad
The one year anniversary of Dad’s death will be here in a couple of days. I have been thinking about that more recently than I have in the last several months. It seems that, in my case, losing my spouse to death has preempted losing my Father. I suppose that’s natural. Dad was buried on the Wednesday before the Monday I took Carol to the hospital. Lately I’ve been thinking “Have I grieved for my Dad enough?” How does one grieve for two people simultaneously?
My Dad was 81, just a couple of weeks from his 82nd birthday, when he died. He had some significant health problems for many years. We were happy that he lived as long and as well as he did. We considered it a gift from a faithful God. Most of the time Dad was compliant, not ornery; he was funny, not depressed; he was content, not restless: he was faithful to his God, wife, and family, never closing us out. He was gracious and appreciated the help that was offered him. In the later years he knew he could not care for himself and accepted help with dignity. His wit and humor, while sometimes embarrassing, were always entertaining. He modeled faithfulness and aging well and taught so many other lessons to all of us who knew him and loved him.
Mom and I have talked many times in the last year about how, while we miss Dad tremendously, it was really his time. There is no arguing with God about His timing with Dad. We have both questioned God’s timing regarding Carol’s death but Dad was at the end of many years. We all still miss him. When a parent is no longer living there are so many times you’re just wanting to call and talk to them, or when you stop by their home, you expect them to be sitting in their usual chair. You still want to hear those same stories about being in Italy during WWII, etc.
Like a quote from one of the books I’ve read says, “Death is the Devil’s calling card”. It will get us all sooner or later. It remains a tremendous comfort knowing that death is not final. Love conquered death. The devil has no answer to Christ’s ultimate sacrifice. We will see our loved ones again. The circle will be unbroken. We do not know who those already in heaven will greet next but they are there and will most definitely greet whoever it is.
Dad, we miss you! Mom you’ve been so brave.
You are both forever loved.
The one year anniversary of Dad’s death will be here in a couple of days. I have been thinking about that more recently than I have in the last several months. It seems that, in my case, losing my spouse to death has preempted losing my Father. I suppose that’s natural. Dad was buried on the Wednesday before the Monday I took Carol to the hospital. Lately I’ve been thinking “Have I grieved for my Dad enough?” How does one grieve for two people simultaneously?
My Dad was 81, just a couple of weeks from his 82nd birthday, when he died. He had some significant health problems for many years. We were happy that he lived as long and as well as he did. We considered it a gift from a faithful God. Most of the time Dad was compliant, not ornery; he was funny, not depressed; he was content, not restless: he was faithful to his God, wife, and family, never closing us out. He was gracious and appreciated the help that was offered him. In the later years he knew he could not care for himself and accepted help with dignity. His wit and humor, while sometimes embarrassing, were always entertaining. He modeled faithfulness and aging well and taught so many other lessons to all of us who knew him and loved him.
Mom and I have talked many times in the last year about how, while we miss Dad tremendously, it was really his time. There is no arguing with God about His timing with Dad. We have both questioned God’s timing regarding Carol’s death but Dad was at the end of many years. We all still miss him. When a parent is no longer living there are so many times you’re just wanting to call and talk to them, or when you stop by their home, you expect them to be sitting in their usual chair. You still want to hear those same stories about being in Italy during WWII, etc.
Like a quote from one of the books I’ve read says, “Death is the Devil’s calling card”. It will get us all sooner or later. It remains a tremendous comfort knowing that death is not final. Love conquered death. The devil has no answer to Christ’s ultimate sacrifice. We will see our loved ones again. The circle will be unbroken. We do not know who those already in heaven will greet next but they are there and will most definitely greet whoever it is.
Dad, we miss you! Mom you’ve been so brave.
You are both forever loved.
Monday, February 12, 2007
SINGLES AWARENESS DAY (S.A.D.)
Another day, February 14th, Valentine’s Day, it will be here in a couple of days. I know of those who have referred to this day as “singles awareness day” and now I can relate to why they do. It is a day to celebrate love. That’s cool, if you have someone who loves you. This is the first time in a long time when I’m on the outside looking in on this particular day. The church I belong to is even hosting a “Celebration of Marriage” dinner this Wednesday. Great timing! Oh well, ours was a marriage worth celebrating.
In the spirit of love and marriage and Valentine’s Day, following is another of the “poems” I wrote a around six months out.
"The worst thing about being a widow/er is the loss of love….When you have a great marriage, it becomes something that goes far beyond friendship. It's having someone who knows you." Tamsen
VOWS (6 MONTHS)
August 5, 1977
The happiest day of my life
I was 20 and
In love
I was doing the most
Correct thing
I would ever do in my life
I was marrying
Carol Ann Haagsma
On a hot August night
We were married
By her uncle
Before God and
Our friends and family
We together
Wrote our vows
And memorized them
And spoke them to each other
Holding hands
“I take you, Fred, before God and everyone here to be my husband until death parts us. I promise to love you and be faithful to you. I promise to share with you all that life brings us, its burdens and sorrows as well as its joys. With God’s help I will be open to you and try never to take your love for granted. I promise to be sensitive to your needs and help you work for the goals you have set for yourself. I will join with you in seeking God’s will for our lives together praying always that He will guide us and strengthen our love.
Fred, I give you this ring as a reminder of the promise and prayers I have just made, and as a symbol of our union in Christ.”
“Carol. I love you and take you, before God and our friends here, to be my wife till death parts us. I promise to love you and to share my entire life with you. Our life will include many joys and I will rejoice in them with you. It will also include sorrows and I promise to comfort you. I promise to be faithful to you always. I promise to be gentle and considerate and open to you always and I ask your help in this. I pray for the Lord’s help keeping me sensitive to your needs and for never taking your love for granted. Carol, I look forward to our laboring together in God’s kingdom.
Carol, I give you this ring as a reminder of the promises and prayers I have made and as a symbol of our union in Christ.”
Thank you
My dearest sweetheart
You kept your vows
With God’s help
Till death parted us
Another day, February 14th, Valentine’s Day, it will be here in a couple of days. I know of those who have referred to this day as “singles awareness day” and now I can relate to why they do. It is a day to celebrate love. That’s cool, if you have someone who loves you. This is the first time in a long time when I’m on the outside looking in on this particular day. The church I belong to is even hosting a “Celebration of Marriage” dinner this Wednesday. Great timing! Oh well, ours was a marriage worth celebrating.
In the spirit of love and marriage and Valentine’s Day, following is another of the “poems” I wrote a around six months out.
"The worst thing about being a widow/er is the loss of love….When you have a great marriage, it becomes something that goes far beyond friendship. It's having someone who knows you." Tamsen
VOWS (6 MONTHS)
August 5, 1977
The happiest day of my life
I was 20 and
In love
I was doing the most
Correct thing
I would ever do in my life
I was marrying
Carol Ann Haagsma
On a hot August night
We were married
By her uncle
Before God and
Our friends and family
We together
Wrote our vows
And memorized them
And spoke them to each other
Holding hands
“I take you, Fred, before God and everyone here to be my husband until death parts us. I promise to love you and be faithful to you. I promise to share with you all that life brings us, its burdens and sorrows as well as its joys. With God’s help I will be open to you and try never to take your love for granted. I promise to be sensitive to your needs and help you work for the goals you have set for yourself. I will join with you in seeking God’s will for our lives together praying always that He will guide us and strengthen our love.
Fred, I give you this ring as a reminder of the promise and prayers I have just made, and as a symbol of our union in Christ.”
“Carol. I love you and take you, before God and our friends here, to be my wife till death parts us. I promise to love you and to share my entire life with you. Our life will include many joys and I will rejoice in them with you. It will also include sorrows and I promise to comfort you. I promise to be faithful to you always. I promise to be gentle and considerate and open to you always and I ask your help in this. I pray for the Lord’s help keeping me sensitive to your needs and for never taking your love for granted. Carol, I look forward to our laboring together in God’s kingdom.
Carol, I give you this ring as a reminder of the promises and prayers I have made and as a symbol of our union in Christ.”
Thank you
My dearest sweetheart
You kept your vows
With God’s help
Till death parted us
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