my Christmas surprise

I have to show you a really neat gift my children gave me for Christmas this year! In Springtime of 2010, Tessa took a picture of my perennial gardens in full bloom. They took the photo to Costco and ordered it as a large canvas print. I love the gift, but even more, I love the thought behind their gift.





"I look upon the pleasure we take in a garden
as one of the most innocent delights in human life."
- Cicero

An "Abner" Christmas!

This year's Smucker Christmas card photo is...shall we say,unconventional?! (And I didn't actually send this pose to everyone on our Christmas list!) In October, Carl's niece Shar Halvorsen, took some pictures of us to use for our 2010 card. The kids were in rare form that day, and one of them suggested we all do our "Abner" pose. By way of explanation, the Abner pose comes from our childrens' earliest memories of days spent playing in the back yard with our Amish neighbor kids. Everyone had someone close to their age and they had so much creative fun!

Every few years back then, I would gather all the children together,(at highest count there was a total of 11: 4 of ours and 7 of the neighbors!) line them up according to age/size, and TRY to take a picture. With the old 35mm film, I never knew if my efforts would pay off till the pictures came back in the mail.

So, just for fun, we all decided to line up and recreate the old pictures. Above is the picture Shar snapped. And the picture below shows one of the original Abner shots from years ago.



In the midst of whatever is happening in your corner of earth this Christmas: whether all's right in your world, or whether you are struggling through deep pain, may you be able to experience the presence of JESUS. Emmanuel, God with us. He loves you with an everlasting love, and underneath are the everlasting arms.

My Mourning Musings

I'm the kind of person, who after immersing myself in a good book or watching an interesting movie, I'll spend the next few days thinking about the end after the ending. It's like tying a ribbon around a package, a finishing point in my mind.

And I like lists. Sometimes I actually add something to my list, for the sheer joy of crossing it off! Check. Done.

I rarely move furniture around in my home. I like things to stay the same. I like schedules and routine.

I like when 2+2 always equals 4. I like life to unfold in neat little sequences, orderly and predictable.

The problem with the world I live in is that it doesn't fit me, it isn't tailor-made for my personality and bent. As the Book of Job says, "Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward." No matter how much I wish it was different, life simply can't be put in a box. Few people reach middle age without having their hearts broken several times: I am no exception.

So what's a person like me to do with this reality? When things seem to spiral out of control in my personal world, I feel a need to write. Putting pen to paper (or tapping a computer keyboard) helps me process and work through the complexities that otherwise clutter my thoughts and keep me distracted and uptight. Writing allows me to put my thoughts and feelings into a box of sorts, to put words and sentences together until they say what I am feeling.

Right now I am in one of those seasons, wrestling with unanswered questions and the deep pain that life sometimes throws our way. It feels random,senseless,cruel.

I watch helplessly from the sidelines as a good friend fights a rare and aggressive type of brain cancer. The best doctors in the country can not perform an operation to cure her, or give her treatments that respond to this awful disease. I watch her courageous and committed husband, a gentle, private man of few words, whose very world is crumbling around him: he loves that woman so much! And her children struggle to walk a path that no one this young should have to face.

Where can I find some word of comfort, some consolation for my soul? How can a merciful and gracious God allow His children to experience unexplainable distress? The age-old question haunts me: Why do bad things happen to good people?

I am not naive enough to believe that I can expect answers to all my questions. Even theologians throughout the centuries who have given their lives to study the meaning of suffering have not been privy to a formula that completely addresses the myriad of unanswered questions.

Ironically, comfort comes to me from my own personal experience. Two years ago, when my husband was seriously injured in a motorcycle accident, I felt my world crash along with his. So much uncertainty and fear, so much pain.

But looking back, the most difficult time of my life brought with it a deep-seated peace, an almost tangible presence of Jesus that simply can not be duplicated in "normal" life. God's hand was in the heartache.

If this is true for me in my experience, then I have every reason to believe that my friend and her family are being carried in the same way. Underneath them are the everlasting arms.

"This I call to mind, and therefore I have hope. Because of the Lord's great love, we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is His faithfulness!"

a lesson from Cooper

One morning this week I was standing by our back door, looking out into the back yard. I noticed our dog, Cooper---a loveable 2-year-old Golden Retriever with boundless energy and a need for people and companionship. He is sweet-tempered, a little dumb in my opinion, but he loves us unconditionally and without reserve. He is slowly endearing himself to me, which is saying a lot since I am not particularly an animal lover.

But I digress.

Cooper was lying outside of his pen, curled up in a tight ball on the ground, trying to stay warm against the morning's frigid temperatures and a biting wind. His fur was layered with a light coating of frost, from being outside all night. A few feet away from where he was lying, was his comfortable cage, the door open and inviting. Just inside, his bowl of dog food was left untouched. The day before, Carl had installed a heat lamp and I could see the warm glow coming from inside.

But Cooper was afraid of what he did not understand. Instinct told him that the red light in his pen was dangerous, scary. His fear of the unknown kept him outside in the cold for over 24 hours--a full day and night and into the next day.

I stood there and thought about the fact that as a dog, Cooper simply could not understand my human reasoning. I wanted to tell him that we put the heat lamp there to make him more comfortable for the winter, and we did it because we care about him, but he was not able to comprehend and in fact, his doggy brain assumed we were doing something to hurt him. Even though we have cared well for him for over two years.

I had a "light-bulb moment," (no pun intended!) one of those times when a thought forms crystal-clear inside my brain. I like to believe this is God's way of teaching me a concept in living word pictures so I will be sure not to miss it.

How many times in my life, when something happens that is outside my comfort zone,I pull back in fear, trying desperately to stay within the confines of my own understanding. I am afraid to let go of what I know, what is familiar to me, and what I understand through the lens of my human reasoning. I simply can not fathom God's way of doing things. His thoughts are not my thoughts, His ways are not my ways.

I have to choose to trust that this God Who has been faithful to me all of my life, is continually looking out for my good. He is Sovereign, He is Wise, He is Good. This is what my faith tells me, even when my feelings scream against it.

So until the pain of staying where I am outweighs the potential pain of change, I stay out in the cold, curled up inside myself, waging an inevitable losing battle against a God Who is so much bigger than me.

By the way, Cooper eventually discovered how delightfully warm and cozy his little house is. I think he likes it!

Oswald Chambers once said, "Faith never knows where it is being led, but it knows and loves the One who is leading."