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| The Lord is SO good to us! Smokey had his 2 year PET scan and check up with the oncologist today and all is well - no sign of the lymphoma. We are smiling and praising God for His mercy and goodness!
Thank you for all your prayers and support. We are truly blessed to have great friends and family.
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| Sometimes, out of the blue, it hits me. Something happens and it triggers a memory from two years ago. I know I should be happy that it is all behind us and over, but there is something in the memories that evoke pretty strong emotions in me. It's hard not to get a bit weepy, just as a release of emotion, I guess. Anyway, that's the way I feel today. I haven't sobbed myself silly or anything, I'm just a bit teary eyed and heart heavy. It all started when I went to Jason and Sarah's to help them pack up to move. This family is very, very special to me and saying goodbye is really hard. They are like family. That put me in a more reflective mood and then when I got home and I started doing some baking, I pressed play on the Cd player, not knowing what was in there, and in starts Nora Jones.... the CD is a compilation of music that Libby put together for Smokey when he was sick. We played that CD a lot over those months. The music was thoughtfully put together, song by song, each one with a special message for her dad. These songs just added to my 'heart soreness' as they reminded me of the hospital visits, the room where we lived in Omaha, the faces of some of the nurses, the endless waiting in waiting rooms, the noises and smells... So here I am, cooking up an Italian casserole and brownies, and sniffling a bit, singing along with Rich Mullins and James Taylor and Nickel Creek, wishing my girls and boy were home. I guess sometimes we just need family around to make things better.
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| My grandmother was a weaver..... I never fully appreciated her craft when I was a child, it was just a fact that Grandma made rugs - lots of them. I remember her ripping old sheets into strips for the 'rags', but I didn't watch her weave very often. When we visited her I was more interested in playing with my cousins. Sometimes we'd go down to the basement and back to the corner where her loom was set up, and we'd explore a bit. We were always cautioned to be careful and not to mess with anything. It was kind of like a mystery, looking at that old loom all warped up with cotton thread. I'd lay my hand across the warp amazed at it's tightness, looking at the rug that was taking shape near the beam and the thick roll of fabric that was already woven. The lint was thick on the floor, bits of gold and green threads that had come loose from the ragged strips of sheeting. There were oddly shaped tools hanging on the wall and lying on the work bench near the loom - items I can now identify as spool racks and thread separators, spindles, and shuttles, heddles and reed hooks. Once in awhile we would watch her weave and the sharpest memory is the sound of the beater whacking the rags into place and the clacking of the peddles with each shift of the harnesses. My grandmother died before I became interested in the art of weaving. There are times I wish I could talk to her about it, asking her how she got started and when, who taught her.....
I have a couple of her rugs. They are worn and the warp is breaking leaving the rags to unravel. But I cherish those rugs. It's silly I suppose, but I get sentimental. It's hard to part with things that remind you of loved ones that are now gone. Maybe that's why we hang on to 'stuff' - I do know that each time I see one of those worn rag rugs in the closet, I think of her. And I'm grateful for the memories they stir.
In the past
few weeks my interest in weaving has reappeared. I took a couple of
weaving classes at Iowa State when I was a student there and really
enjoyed it. In the years since, I have not really had an opportunity
to do any weaving - I didn't have a loom which is a necessary tool! A
few years ago my brother in law was very generous and gave me a loom
that he built (Thanks Rodg!!). It's a multiple harness floor loom and able to do any weaving project I could ever
hope to attempt. I immediately got busy and made a few of rag rugs
because they are a quick and easy project to start with. Soon I ran out
of rags and the loom has sat 'dormant' since. But I'm hoping to try my hand at it again soon. I'm looking forward to becoming reacquainted with the loom.....
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| Something is missing.... when I look at the 'church' today, I have this overwhelming sense that something is missing. We sit in our beautiful buildings, sing our beautiful songs, pray our eloquent prayers, listen to entertaining and very sound teaching, and yet I feel as though it's not right. Oh, there are the arguments for the first century example, and we are following those to the letter (for the most part), but I'm not talking about the 'acts' of worship. I think I'm referring to the heart of worship - it's not there. We have our programs and our help groups, we serve ourselves to fellowship activities like we're starving (and in some ways we are). We reach out into the community to provide much needed physical assistance and that's good, but do we care for those folks' souls as much as we do their stomachs? And don't tell me that 'we can't reach their hearts until we've satisfied their physical needs'. When we offer excuses like that, we hinder the power of God. Yes, we shouldn't offer them the Word of God only and not help their hunger or homelessness, but we more often that not, supply their clothing and food needs without an effort to share the gospel message with them. OK, I'm digressing a bit. What is heavy on my heart right now is our need as the church of the Living God for Spiritual revival. The first century church was powerful, changing lives daily. Their acts were fearful because the Spirit was moving among them. They succeeded in changing the politics and society of their time. Why? Because they were filled with the Holy Spirit. A.W. Tozer said, "The Church [of NT times] was not an organization merely, not a movement, but a walking incarnation of spiritual energy." Oh, if we could capture than Spiritual energy today, using it to God's glory, moving the church forward with power. That is my prayer.
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| Last Saturday I was working at the bookstore during Lawrence's annual St. Patricks Day Parade (which marches right down Mass St. in front of the store). With our wide expanse of windows at the front of the store, much of the festivities were visible. We had our share of green clad customers that day and it reminded me of where I was a year ago. I wrote some thoughts down that day and I'd like to share them with all of you.
"March 17, 2007 - A year ago today we were in Omaha for cancer treatment. I remember looking out of the window of Smokey’s hospital room and seeing a bagpipe band in the parking lot of a pub across the way. The sky was gray and it was windy and my mood matched the weather. I saw the red and green kilts, a parking lot full of people wearing green sweatshirts with beer steins in their hands and smiles on their faces. I was having a hard time not feeling sorry for myself and my situation. Not that I cared to have a beer in my hand, mind you, but I was having a hard time finding joy in anything. I managed to open the window so I could hear the pipes (they were beautiful!), and then the sun made a brief appearance. God blessed that moment for me, lifted my spirits a bit, and helped me to smile."
I shared this remembrance with Smokey when I got home from work and, as I expected, he had no recollection of the moment. A year ago he was stuck in a hospital bed tethered by an IV machine and he couldn't join me at the window. At the time I gave him a description of the goings-on across the way and he encouraged me to open the window so I could hear the pipes. He remembers none of it now, however. Over the course of the past year he has managed to forget much of what went on in Omaha, probably on purpose. That's probably good, but in his effort to forget the uncomfortable happenings, he's forgotten some good moments as well....
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