"The Worst Day of My Life"

Wet willies! YUCK! But Ben adores his big brother, Caleb, and so he loves it when Caleb teases him or even gives him wet willies. They have such a precious relationship that all began when God laid it on Caleb's heart to pray for brothers. As the only son in our family of five children, he wanted reinforcements. And so he began to pray when he was very young that he would be given brothers. He used to tell me that he had been praying for them, and I would say, "That's nice, honey, go play." You see, the Lord laid it on his heart long before He laid it on my heart, or Kregg's heart. 


We made one more trip on Friday: we took Caleb to college.


We worked all weekend to get him loaded up, moved in and set up. Yesterday, we went to church together, with Kregg's parents, and Caleb's roommate, then to lunch. We got him a few groceries and took them back to his room.


Then it was time to say, "Goodbye."


It was just Kregg, Caleb, and I and the four younger siblings. We put Caleb in the center of our circle and laid our hands on him to pray blessings over him. Rebekah started, asking the Lord to protect him and keep him safe. Next, it was Ben's turn. He began by thanking God for his big brother and the influence he has had in Ben's life. And then he broke down.


He started sobbing and the words wouldn't come. 


Of course, that opened the carefully closed floodgates for all of us. And so the rest of our prayer was frequently interrupted by sniffles and pauses to regain composure enough to speak what was on our hearts. Because this was important. And we needed to say these things. We needed him to hear these blessings in this place. We asked the Lord to give him Wisdom and Discernment. To dedicate that dorm room as "Holy unto the Lord." To give Caleb strength for his task. To pray that every thought, word, and action bring Him Glory. 


It was Holy Ground.


And it was so very precious. So very, very important for our family to commission Caleb to begin this next phase of his training for usefulness in Kingdom Work. And they all understood that this was the right way, the best way to close one season and to open a new one. This new one that we have known was coming and eagerly anticipated for what it will mean in Caleb's life, but dreaded for what it would mean in ours.


And so we drove away, leaving our precious son and part of our hearts, but knowing we wouldn't want it any other way. Because it is time for him to take that next step. And so it's good and it is exciting and we are so very happy for him and we know the Lord will bless it all.


There was a back to school party for the young people at church last night and so we drove home, unloaded and let the kids change clothes, then drove over to join in the fun. One of the mom's told me that when Ben had walked in before me, he told her, "This is the Worst Day of My Life." 


We let the kids swim and eat hamburgers and play silly games. And then we came home. Everyone was tired, so we all got ready for bed. The boys have always shared their room with Caleb and it made them sad to see his empty bed, so for last night, all four of the youngest bedded down in the den. Thinking they were all asleep, Kregg, Mackenzy and I were in our bedroom talking (she had to stay home and work, so we needed to catch up with her).


Then Ben appeared in the doorway. His little round face was all red and splotchy, with tears streaming down it. He said, "Mom, will you pray with me?" I gathered him up in my arms and snuggled him close in our big bed while Kregg prayed over that poor little broken heart. We talked to him about how he and Josh were God's Answer to all of those prayers Caleb prayed so many years ago, asking for brothers. We talked about how his job was to keep praying for Caleb and to focus on becoming everything God Designed him to be  because that would make Caleb so proud of him. We talked about what God will do through Caleb during this season. And we told him how proud we were of him to know that he needed to take all of his burdens to Him Who Carries our burdens for us. 


And then he went to sleep, because the Lord had granted sleep to this precious little heart.

The Least of These

We were blessed Sunday morning to see several people we used to worship with. We have been helping with a church plant in a nearby city for the past several years, and one of the churches that helped plant us is the one we used to attend. We miss so many of our friends and mentors from that part of the Body, but we know we are where the Lord wants us. So when some of them come to worship with us, it is like a cool, refreshing drink from the Spirit. 

On Sunday, two of our very favorite came. These elderly men have served the Lord for decades and decades, and have been mentors to hundreds in His Body. Their faces shine with His Spirit. When I am in my eighties, I hope He will be so clearly reflected in me. Volumes could be written about their lives, as they have allowed Him to send them all over the world in His Name. 


One of these two, Gary Tate has been passionate about sharing the Gospel in NE India since his days there as a soldier in World War II. I will have to tell you about the other one another time.  
                    
Gary is the man in the plaid shirt in this video from a few years ago. Anyway, he and Kregg got to talking Sunday morning and Gary was so excited to learn about the things our children are passionate about. Mackenzy, in particular, has been working for several years on the issue of human trafficking. Gary became involved in this issue several years ago, and we didn't even know that. He is so adorable. He has called us several times since Sunday and is going to provide us materials and contacts for her to be able to serve more effectively. He is so passionate about this topic, and I love that this man of God didn't "retire" twenty something years ago, when most people do. He is MORE involved, more active, more passionate, if that is possible. 

He is hoping to meet with Mackenzy later this week. I think it is cute that he is so up to date with the technology that makes him more efficient. He wanted her email and cell phone number so he could set up a meeting. He has already sent Mackenzy's information to another young lady who is about to leave for a trip to that area. There are trips planned twice a year and Mackenzy is already hoping to go on one of them.

Rapha House is one of the ministries through which they do much of their work. "Rapha House exists to love, rescue, and heal children who have been rescued out of slavery and sexual exploitation. Operating as a 501(c)3, Rapha House began in 2003 to permeate cultures with love that heals and leads to restoration. Rapha House does this by providing safehomes and aftercare programs for young girls who have been rescued out of slavery and exploitative situations. All Rapha House homes are currently located in Southeast Asia, with the goal of expanding globally.

Slavery still exists in every culture. Rapha House is constantly partnering with advocates in an effort to build communities that extend unconditional love, physical rescue, and transformational healing." 

Then Gary sent me an email:

"Kregg, Anne & Mackenzy -  These are latest pics of 16
children rescued in the Nepal area by our worker in
NE India in last 4 months, ages 3 to 12, by our workers
in NE India.   They had been "abandoned" or in imminent
danger of being "trafficked".   Dimbeswar calls them
"Angels", and they have a Christian young couple as
"houseparents"... (Extreme poverty is a contributing
cause to their being abandoned or sold...)"

He attached these pictures, and my heart broke. 

They are so beautiful. Each of these precious little souls was snatched from the very clutches of the evil one, bent on their destruction. Praise God!! I cannot stop weeping over these little ones. I want to bring them all home with me!

What does He have in store for us? 

Lord, please show us what You would have us do in response to needs so great. May we not turn away. May we allow You to pour us out like a drink offering however You desire. Please wrap Your arms around each of these precious hearts. Help them to know what the Father's Love really looks like. You will never leave them or abandon them. Please be with their parents. I cannot imagine the desperation that would drive them to abandon these precious little ones. Oh Father, the need is so great. It overwhelms us. But You are Sufficient. Please raise up Your Body to meet the needs You reveal. May our hearts break with what breaks Your Heart. Help us to see how to be Your Hands and Feet to the least of these. 
Through Him Who Overcame,
Amen

                    

The Stages of a Farewell

Mom, early in 1951 when she was expecting my oldest sister

I have written before in this place about my mother's death. Her birthday was last week, so I have been thinking about her these past few days. It was six and a half years ago that the Lord called her Home. I can always remember because it was the same time we brought Sergey and Oleg (Joshua and Benjamin) home from Siberia. 

In so many ways, though, Mom has been gone much longer than that. Joshua and Benjamin never met her, but even Elizabeth, who is 12, and Rebekah, 10, didn't know her. By the time they  were born, my mother was already gone.  Alzheimer's had taken her from us. 


For the seven years before she went Home, the disease had steadily carved out little pieces of her mind and personality, leaving blanks, gaps, voids. 


I remember when it really hit me. Kregg and I had traveled to Fort Worth for Thanksgiving. At that point, we had only the three oldest of our children. Mom had always been a good cook. But that morning, I remember exactly where she was standing in the kitchen of my childhood home when she said, "I hope I can make this dressing. I've never made it before." Her dressing had always been one of the favorite dishes on the Thanksgiving table. Kregg and I looked at each other. And as I, in shock, plumbed the depths of my loss, my sweet husband gently said to her, "Doris, you don't worry about that. I will make the dressing."

That evening, I guess because of all the company and cooking, things got ugly. She became very frustrated for no reason we could see and lashed out at the children. It was a nightmare. We truly did not understand. It was all so new. We were simply in shock. 

I vividly remember, and it still makes me weep, ushering the kids quickly out of the house to our vehicle trying to figure out what to do. I told Kregg, "That is NOT MY MOTHER!" as I sat there grieving. My wonderful husband, my "little-s-savior", offered to take us to a hotel, or to his brother and sister-in-law's house. He would have done anything he could to spare me the pain. There was no way we could stay at Mom and Dad's. The kids were just too much for her mind to handle at that point. And they couldn't understand why Grandma was so mad at them, why she said those things to them.

The disease slowly removed her wonderful sense of humor. It robbed us of all her stories. She could no longer talk on the phone. When it reached the point where Dad could not care for her, we moved them here, Mom to a care facility and Dad to a little apartment right down the street from her. 

While she lived here, we were able to see her often. It was hard on the older kids. They remembered Mom before her illness and it really hurt them to see her so changed. But the younger four kids just accepted her as she was. They didn't know what they had missed and so they didn't grieve it like the other kids did. For the most part, Mom was cheerful. She was just blank. She knew that I looked familiar, but couldn't place me. Her physical body was still strong and healthy. It was just her mind that was sick. But as I wrestled with it in prayer, He was always so present, so comforting. And I am convinced that, even though her mind didn't know me, her spirit always did. And that is the real Mom: her spirit.


There are three things that really stand out to me from that season. They are the three things for which I am most grateful.

The first is this. Our youngest turned four while Mom was here. And from the very first time Rebekah walked into that Alzheimer's unit, she would climb up in Mom's lap and throw her arms around Mom's neck. When Mom would see Rebekah walk into the room, her face would light up. And Rebekah, in turn, would run to Mom as fast as she could. They would sit there, wrapped in the embrace of the other, just allowing Love to wash over them. They rarely even spoke. They didn't need to. But their spirits connected. 

Mom contracted a staph infection from one of the other patients in the unit. There were many others who became sick, but Mom's case was the most serious. By far. She was admitted to the hospital in the middle of the night. 

I knew. 

I knew this was the beginning of the end. And since I had been saying my goodbyes to her with each stage of her illness, the Lord's Mercy allowed me to deal with only this one, final remaining goodbye. I had already grieved my loss in pieces. The true magnitude of His Mercy in allowing me this process became apparent only as the storm of the next several months raged over us. He knew there would be no emotional reserves to spend on anything except helping two little boys, who had never known anything about Love, learn what it meant to be part of a family. The full scope of grief that I was spared at that time is the second thing for which I am so very thankful.


Mom was moved to the Hospice unit in the hospital after a few days. Transferring a patient from one room to another can be pretty intense as the buzz of all the necessary papers and people and medical issues are dealt with. But after they moved her to the new bed in the new room in the new unit, there were a few moments when I was the only one in the room with her. It was quiet. 

In the previous few days, there had been no moments of lucidity. But in that small, quiet moment, I was leaning over her bed and she looked at me. She actually looked at me and saw me. Recognition flashed. I said, "I love you, Mom!!" She looked right into my eyes, smiled at me, and said, "I know. I love you, too." And then she was gone again.


That is the last thing I ever heard from her lips. And it is the third, out of His many blessings, for which I am most grateful. Even though this cruel disease had ravaged her mind, her spirit was still the same. And that is who she really was. And is . . .


A few days later, she went Home. And in His grand Mercy, I had complete Peace. I knew this had been the day established for her Homecoming since before she was even born. 


How can the Ruler of the entire universe be so very gentle and tender with my heart? I will praise Him all my days!

Happy Birthday, Mom!!

The Death of a Neighbor

Image From Wikipedia

Several years ago, we had an older couple as next door neighbors. They were so very sweet and simply adored our children. One day, we had gone to run several errands. When we returned home, I sent Hannah into the house to let the dog out the back door. As we were carrying in the groceries, Hannah came running to me telling me that Ramon, our neighbor, was lying in his back yard.

I ran through the house and out the door. There he was, on his back beside a hole he had been digging. I was yelling, trying to rouse him but there was no response. They had an enormous Doberman Pincher named Daisy who always acted like she would tear us to ribbons if we came into their back yard. I hesitated a second wondering what to do, but decided I had to get in there so I climbed over the fence (the gate wouldn't open). 

Daisy knew. She knew Ramon needed help and that I was trying to help him. She quietly stood at my side.


Ramon's wife, Doris was not home. 

I told Hannah to call 911.


I shook him. Nothing.


I checked for a pulse. Nothing.


He wasn't breathing.


I started CPR, answering Hannah's questions as she relayed them from the 911 dispatcher. The other kids were standing at the fence crying.


He wasn't responding. I was trying not to think about the smell, and the ribs cracking, and the panic that was rising in my throat. I prayed and cried and kept trying.


It seemed like days before the first emergency vehicle arrived. It was a fire truck. The firemen came running into the back yard. They hadn't received the information that I was performing CPR. I thought as soon as they arrived, I could stop. But since there were only two of them, they had me continue while one of them assisted me. The other was talking to the dispatch office giving an update.


Ramon had been digging a hole to plant a tree, a bald cypress. It was turned over, lying on its side. When he had fallen, his glasses had slipped up over his head. A pen had slid from his shirt pocket, over his shoulder onto the ground. One of his legs was bent sideways. The shovel was lying beside him and there was loose dirt sprinkled over the grass. It's funny how all of those details were so vivid. How they are still so vivid.

The ambulance arrived and I was finally able to stop the CPR. The emergency personnel were very thorough. They asked me lots of questions. We were trying to find his wife. I told them about their sons. I called the minister at their church.


They loaded him onto a stretcher and placed him in the ambulance. Several friends stopped at my house, worried they were there for us. They all knew how accident-prone our second child is and thought something might have happened. Kregg came. And I broke down weeping.

I was in shock.


Why was the ambulance still here? Why hadn't they whisked him away to the hospital?? In my heart, I knew he was gone. But, I wanted them to try! Please just try!


Then the questions began flooding my mind:
What if I had come straight home instead of making that one last stop?
What if I hadn't been doing  CPR correctly?
What would Doris say?
Would she be angry with me?
Why had this happened, if I couldn't save him?
Had I done everything I could do?
What about the ribs I had broken?
How were the kids going to take this?
What about his family?
What do I do next?


Someone had found Doris and she was on her way to the hospital. So we headed there, too.  What would I say to her?


Of course, when we arrived they told us Ramon was dead. Then I saw Doris. I flew into her arms and we wept and wept and wept. I didn't need words. She knew my heart.


I had a horrible time that night. Every tiny detail swirled around in my head. In 3D, technicolor, plus those smells. I couldn't tell anyone about the horror. All my senses were overflowing with the physical horror of what had happened. The CPR classes don't talk about those things. I couldn't talk about those things. To anyone. They just replayed over and over in my mind. I could still feel everything, the sensations were so crisp and clear. And I wanted to turn it off. But, I couldn't. I wondered if I would ever be able to do it again, if I needed to. Or would what I had experienced that day freeze me forever into immobility in the face of another crisis?


And still the questions.


But mostly the question: Why had I been put there at that time and not been able to save him?


The Lord heard the deepest cries of my heart and answered in two ways.


One of the firemen who had responded found my phone number and called me! He saw how upset I was and wanted to check on me. FINALLY, someone who could hear my questions. I asked them. He understood. He explained it all. I could breathe again. He told me I had done everything exactly the way I should have done it. The broken ribs didn't make things worse. He was gone when I found him and had he had this massive heart attack on the table in an operating room, they couldn't have saved him. The Lord knew exactly who I needed, so he sent this precious man to answer what I couldn't even ask anyone else. I cried and thanked him and he cried.


And then the card arrived. It was from Ramon's daughter. She told me that her family considered me their angel. She expressed their love and gratitude. And then I saw it: I wasn't supposed to save him. It was time for him to go home. My job was to prevent his precious wife from finding him like that. My job was to serve her by keeping her from seeing what I had seen, hearing what I heard, all of those things that had caused me such horror, she was spared. I had misunderstood my job in this situation. Through His Grace, I had done exactly what I was supposed to do. Only through His Grace. Peace flooded my spirit.

Now I could not only breathe, I could sing.

A Father's Heart for His Daughter

As I go through life in the role of motherhood, I have often said (after hearing someone else say it) that having a child is like your heart walking around outside your body. There is nothing that makes you more vulnerable than loving these little agents of free will. Parenting can take you from the highest heights to the deepest depths in the span of a few minutes. Of all the ways I could choose to spend my time, no other calling carries with it the potential for so much eternal fruit. Through the Lord's wisdom and guidance our children can change the world and the fruit of their lives will ripple out into eternity.

We have been working at this job for over two decades, and  I still feel like a rookie on too many levels. That is not because the Lord hasn't tried to give me all the wisdom and guidance I have needed. It is because I  have not always been willing to receive it. When He has gotten it through my thick skull, the Truths He has taught me have always borne fruit in our lives. When I allow Him to raise and train them through me, the results are marvelous to behold. There are those times that you catch a glimpse of His Glory displayed in the life of your child, and it leaves you breathless and in absolute awe. 

In May of this year, our oldest child became a wife! We "finished the race" as her parents. We now have a wonderful new son-in-law named Jeremiah! Hannah has moved out from under our authority and is now under the authority of her husband. Our new role is one of supporting them when they seek our counsel. This change of relationship brings with it the end of a long and fruitful season that we thoroughly enjoyed. It is a precious thing to have reached this milestone as parents. The transition, however, has not been without pain. But that pain is received with thankfulness because the Lord has, once again, shown Himself Faithful and Mighty. As much as we miss having her with us on a daily basis, we know that this is the next step in her maturation as His child.

We wanted their wedding to be a celebration of the joy we felt in being able to launch her into this new stage of life. All the planning, expense and work that went into the wedding was simply a way for us to say, "We are so thankful and proud of you two!!!"

She decided to have the wedding in Bandera. We own some land there and it's a quaint little Hill Country town; exactly what she wanted. There is a beautiful old stone Methodist Church in town, and they just happened to have the date open. The reception was to be held at the clubhouse in the development where we own our land. It's an old Texas ranch house surrounded by gorgeous lawns and giant trees.

Jeremiah's family hosted the rehearsal dinner at Busby's BBQ on Bandera's "main drag". The dinner was great fun filled with hilarious stories and heartfelt tributes. It was precious because we were all there for the common purpose of expressing our love for Hannah and Jeremiah. What a blessing! The hardest part of the whole evening was when Kregg "said his piece."
The year Hannah turned 14, she had given her daddy a special gift for Father's Day. She wrote him a beautiful letter telling him that she had committed before the Lord to entrust her daddy with her heart until the Lord brought the man she was to marry. Along with the letter, she presented to him a tiny little key charm that had a heart cut out of it. She told him it represented the key to her heart and she wanted him to keep and protect it until he could give it, with his blessing, to her husband. He had worn it on a chain next to his heart all of these years. 

Jeremiah had no idea what was coming when Kregg stood up at the dinner that night and asked him to come stand beside him. Kregg then proceeded to tell the story behind the charm. He was weeping, I was weeping, Hannah was weeping. Almost everyone in the entire restaurant had at least teared up. It was excruciatingly painful and so very glorious all at the same time. This was really the culmination of his role as father to this precious daughter whom God had entrusted to him. He was passing the baton.

The day of the wedding dawned bright and sunny. Our families and friends were all helping in every possible way to get our list of "to do's" done. We were up to our eyeballs in hydrangeas and candles, organza and candy. What a blessing it was to have so many who were willing to come ask, "What can I do?" They have a special place of gratitude in our hearts for helping us make that day so special.  

The Hill Country was experiencing a brutal drought and so we were not expecting what happened next. At exactly 7 pm a violent thunderstorm formed right over Bandera. I was concerned about the reception because we had planned to seat lots of people outside with candles and paper lanterns and twinkle lights. We started the ceremony. Everyone and everything looked perfect. Jeremiah had written a song that his friend played as Hannah and Kregg came down the isle. Just a few minutes into the ceremony, there was a huge clap of thunder and the electricity went off!! Now, I had tried to come up with contingencies for all kinds of scenarios, but that one never even entered my mind. And to top it off, the big, beautiful grand piano was electric!! No more music! Needless to say, it was rather awkward and we were basically in shock. The ceremony was, as a result, very short. I must say, though, that the bride and groom handled it with a calm grace and dignity that made us very proud of them. 


As Kregg and I left the ceremony, we were holding our breaths, wondering what would happen when we pulled up to the security gate at the reception venue. Would it open? What if the power was off?? How would people get into the reception? What was "Plan B"? There was no "Plan B"!! Thankfully, there was still electricity. The people we had hired to work the reception, along with one very special angel who stayed behind to make sure everything was taken care of, were able to squeeze all the tables that had been on the patio into the house. It was tight, but at least it was dry. Things weren't quite ready because we weren't supposed to arrive for another half hour. But we made the best of it.

The thunderstorm ended as abruptly as it had began. The clouds cleared and the sky was the most beautiful color of sapphire blue. People spilled out onto the stone patio and Kregg got to have his father/daughter dance with the gorgeous bride. It was bittersweet as he handed her off again to her beaming husband. 

 

They left the reception to an enthusiastic crowd lining the stone walkway and waving sparklers. As the limo pulled away, Kregg's heart broke. He followed the limo to the end of the long driveway and watched them leave. He suddenly felt the overwhelming sense of "things left unsaid." He stood alone and wept at the end of the long, dark driveway. Things were, from that moment on, forever changed. Can you ever really know how you will react in a given situation?  Especially one completely new and so very dear to your heart. As happy as he was for Hannah and Jeremiah, his little girl was gone. He suffered greatly; and he prayed. As always, the Lord's Faithfulness saw him through his grief and slowly pieced together his "father heart" over the next several days.

We have all settled into our new roles and adjusted to the changes. Jeremiah and Hannah are so adorable and Lubbock is only two hours away. It sure makes it easier knowing we can be there in a couple of hours if they need us. Kregg loves to help her with any little thing she asks. Once again, our Heavenly Father has proven Himself Faithful. He provided a godly young man to love and cherish our precious Hannah. It is exactly what we have prayed for since before she was born. 

Being a parent is the "toughest job you'll ever love", to borrow a phrase. If done well, it costs you dearly. My wonderful husband has done it well and it only cost him his heart.

*The beautiful pictures with this post were taken by Kayla Barker of Spink Studio. She traveled with us to Bandera and preserved all these precious memories for us!

The Best Dog in the World

We lost our precious Hercules yesterday. He was an enormous Alaskan Malamute and would have been 13 years old next month. Our vet didn't believe he would make it past ten. He was Hannah's Christmas present in 1996. Our younger children don't ever remember a time when Hercules wasn't part of our family. For them, he was always here to play with and protect them. He was a gentle giant, loved by everyone. Our next door neighbor always told people Hercules was his dog, he just lived with us. It's amazing how much a special pet can touch our hearts. That's not always a given with me. I tend to look at most pets rather ambivalently; I don't usually become attached. But, Hercules was a perfect gentleman.

There is so much I will miss about him.

He always looked like he was smiling. He was never pushy or rude, and he made it clear that you were his very favorite person in the whole, entire universe.

I will miss his season of "molting". Malamutes are a double coated breed, and shed their undercoat every year. When in molt, it looked, at first glance like it had snowed on just one part of the yard. We could have knitted sweaters from the "wool".

 He loved to go visit people, so we had to keep locks on the side gates. Otherwise, he could just lift the handles with his nose. Now we don't need the locks.

He always knew the difference between our pets and a "prey" animal. Our other dogs, cats, etc. were never afraid of him, but when we had "stock", he did eat several of them that didn't stay in their pens. 

One of my favorite Hercules stories was told to us by our previous next door neighbor. He was adding on to the back of his house. One day he looked out and saw that all the workmen were laughing about something. He went out to see what was going on. They were laughing at Hercules. We had a litter of kittens that had just gotten big enough to wander a little bit. Their momma had taken up residence near our shop in the back yard. The kittens had wandered up close to the gates going to the front yard. Hercules didn't think they should have strayed that far, so he was gently picking each one up with its head in his mouth and carrying it back to its momma. The workmen next door couldn't believe a dog that big could be that gentle, or would be worried about baby kitties.

We had known for a few months that the end was very close. We kept hoping we could somehow postpone it just a little while longer. We finally came to the point where it was time. There was nothing we could do. There was no way to get around it. Kregg and Caleb loaded him up and drove to the vet. When they came back, Kregg's heart was broken. He had already prepared his grave, so we buried him and then stood there and wept. He poured a concrete slab over it and we spelled out his name with small stones.

It still seems like we will look out the door and see him smiling in at us.

Saying Goodbye

I said "goodbye" to my precious Uncle Blaine yesterday. He was 83 years young. His beautiful bride had her cheek pressed against his when his spirit flew from his body. My cousin described it as a "whoosh" and, all of a sudden, he was gone. He had flown to his Heavenly Father.

"Some glad morning when this life is o'er, I'll fly away,
fly away;
To a home on God's celestial shore, I'll fly away,
fly away." (Alfred Brumley)

Isn't that a great old hymn? I'm glad to know that is how my sweet uncle left this earth!

Some of my fondest childhood memories are all tangled up with Uncle Blaine.
I loved it when our family traveled to Uncle Blaine and Aunt Jean's house for Thanksgiving, with all the aunts and uncles and cousins. This is my mother's side of our family and if I had to describe them, the description would include lots of storytelling, and laughing, and singing.
The singing was beautiful-lots of old hymns sung in four part harmony. Everyone would join in and sing at the top of their lungs. The blending of voices and hearts gave us a preview of heaven. In fact, I think heaven opened a window to listen.

And the stories . . .
We would laugh until we cried. They found joy in everything. Even though they grew up during the Great Depression, their lives were full of love and happiness. They chose it. They chose to fill themselves up with Light. And their faces still glow with the light that shines from inside their souls.
I remember the Thanksgiving after I had turned six. I was in first grade and was learning to read. I took my reader, "Tip", with me so that I could read it to Uncle Blaine. He would scoop me up as soon as we arrived and use his best Donald Duck voice to tell me all kinds of wonderful things. I would laugh and hug his neck and just enjoy being loved so much by this wonderful man. I adored him! I always will!
His funeral was hard but wonderful. It took 45 minutes for people to file past the casket and speak to his family. I watched them. I wanted to see who else loved him. I wanted to know them because they loved him. There were little children, young couples, lots of elderly people, and so many teenagers. He was known to many of them as their honorary Grandpa. I love that! It speaks so much about who he was and how he impacted this world. Having always lived several hundred miles away, I guess I had never really thought about the fact that there were so many others, like me, who thought he was wonderful.
. . .so many others who looked forward to seeing him.
The world seems a little darker knowing he has left it.