Water at Last!

This news deserves a post all its own.

I could hardly believe my eyes Tuesday when, upon going up to White River on errands, I discovered that the truck and trailer for the water company's hired trencher was way back in the field where our water line was being put in up the hill!

I thought maybe the trench would be done by the next day, but within hours the operator had reached the fence at our back yard! He said he had estimated a day and a half to do the job, and it only took five hours! The soil was sandy with hardly any rocks. Sorry, we still had to pay the full price, but we were grateful the job was done at last, after literally months of going through one piece of equipment after another and having them either break down or simply not do the job.

No longer do we have to haul water from up the hill. Forty dollars a month will allow us 20,000 gallons of water! We've gotten along on about 200 gallons a week, so I think we'll be okay!

Can I say "Thank You, Lord" enough?

Christmas Joys Begin--What Makes a Mother's Heart Glad

And so the Christmas season began at the Lucas home!

After many hours of Thanksgiving cooking, baking, hauling,

 putting up a couple last kitchen cabinets, 

splitting and stacking firewood, and unloading furniture, the girls wanted to do something more "cool," like start decorating for Christmas.

 And their mother let them. 

The guys had stained and lacquered many door trim boards and then trimmed many doors in the main floor of the house. 

I loved this scene of Jonathan working on a switch while the kitty sat on the woodpile outside the back window! 

Carrie and I made Ukrainian borsch for supper Saturday evening. We took this picture to send to our pastor friend near Kiev.

That  was the evening we cut up Danny's deer.

 Sam had brought a big slab of elk to saw with our meat saw into steaks.

Here's another deer Danny found! He was pretty excited to find this rack in the woods nearby.

And here's another rack he found, so symmetrical that the girls used it for a Christmas decoration on the piano. And I liked it!

I loved listening to the girls practice a Christmas song together on guitar and mandolin. 

We loved the pictures Tim sent us from his time in New Zealand. When he was asked what he liked best there, he said it was the sheep--no end of sheep out in the pastures. It's springtime over there, and he couldn't get over how green it was and how many sheep there were!

I loved watching the children tuck Christmas lights on the window sills. 

And I loved the delicious brussels sprouts that Carrie steamed and then roasted for supper. 

But I think what I loved most was how our children responded when Pastor Ambrose's wife called me to ask if we were home since her husband wanted to come check up on us and I told her how we were butchering Danny's deer. 

"Somebody gave us a deer," Mrs. Ambrose said. "He gives us one every year. It's still hanging in the garage."

They hadn't been able to cut it up yet--and it had hung in the cold garage for several days. Her husband usually just debones the meat, for they had no meat saw and no grinder. 

We had the saw, the grinder, the man-power.

When the children saw Pastor Ambrose come in with a cane, they realized with me that he was not in shape to be deboning a whole deer by himself.

After a little discussion, it was decided to offer to bring the Ambrose's deer to our place and cut it up for them. 

Pastor Ambrose was aghast and grateful all at once. Even though he and his wife had an event to attend in half an hour, he said he would make it happen to take Danny up the hill to town and get the deer from the Ambrose's garage and bring it here to our place.

 
The extra deer was of course extra work and took all the time that the children had planned to spend playing games in the kitchen that evening. 

 But not one of them complained. Hannah just said she wished we could play some games, so when everything was done, even though it was a little late, we sat down and played a couple quick games. 

But a mother's heart was happy--

happy because it didn't even have to be the month of December yet for some young people to decide to help a dear elderly pastor who was struggling to find the energy to do such a big job himself. 

I hope my children will always be willing to lend a helping hand. 

Isn't that what Christmas is about--the hand of God reaching down to mankind,

becoming the hand of a little baby,

and then the hand outstretched on the cross,

to redeem, to help, and to save?

And when we give up an evening of games to help someone in need, a little of that same Christmas story becomes personal and precious. 

And I couldn't help wondering, what else will God enable us to do this Christmas season?

I can hardly wait to find out!

 

Music in Our Home Again!

Music ia playing in our home again! 

 After Friday lunch of fresh venison fajitas, the family headed to the garage to figure out how to bring the piano in.

 It was decided to take it out the garage door and load it onto the little trailer.

"Why do pianos have to be so heavy?" one of the boys wondered.

It was a blessing to have our oldest son here to help with so many heavy loads, lifting and moving and unloading one heavy item after another from the mission box truck or repositioning furniture around the house.

Oops! Problems arose when the heavy piano was set on the back end of the trailer! The front end of the trailer bounced up off the hitch! 

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There goes Danny to get the van to pull the trailer with instead of the four-wheeler, while Jonathan makes sure the jack is intact, and Carrie stands precariously on the trailer hoping it will not roll out from under her! 

They brought the piano around to the back door and lugged it in, a step at a time. Having been stored in the garage, the piano had collected dust, so Carrie vacuumed the dusty back of it while Rose tries (rather hopelessly) to help Sam pick out the notes to "This is the Day that the Lord Has Made" on the keys. :):)

 

Danny tried to help, too!

Yesterday, right in the middle of Thanksgiving, I had to head to bed in the middle of the afternoon. I was weak and teary and worried, and Jonathan had just put on some cowboy music in the office.

Now me, if I could have found some Thanksgiving CDs, I'd have put them on, but they were still packed away. 

Hence Cowboys for Jesus was playing. 

But I was lying in the bedroom bemoaning to myself that I wished some Thanksgiving music or hymns were playing instead, when all of a sudden I realized what the cowboys were singing.

"Oh, I'm never alone on the lone prairie

No matter what some folks say.

You see the Lord is by my side

On every dusty ride

To guide me all the way."

 

I don't remember if I shed more tears or if my tears dried up. I just lay there listening intently as the words came clearly, every bit as wonderful and deep and special as any Thanksgiving hymn.

"Oh! I'm never alone on the lone prairie,

He's with me morning, noon, and night.

Oh I'm never alone on the lone prairie

With the Lord here by my side!"

Suddenly I realized that probably the reason for some of my utter weakness at the moment was side effects of the herceptin drug. I feel those side effects the most the second, third, and fourth day after the herceptin IV, and this was the third day.

Within a minute or two I felt so much better that I was up and out of bed and back to work.

 A Cowboy prairie hymn did a little miracle for a little wife and mom on the lone prairie of South Dakota!

God Whispers Peace Even When the World Is Loud

It's in the country and out in nature that I feel the closest to God, so what do you do when circumstances set you smack dab in the middle of Phoenix? 

Is God far away  just because you are squashed inside a block house Air Bnb with stark black-and-white decor and everywhere you look outside contains more buildings and electric wires and gravel paths through city parks and the roar of traffic and jet engines overhead?

Tuesday evening after my clinic day and after moving my belongings back over to Gospel Center, Sam was navigating our Honda Pilot through the darkness and crazy traffic of Phoenix. Suddenly we were passing this spot where my sister Iva had noticed a river walk a few days earlier. Both of us sisters had wanted to check it out but had never found the chance. But I mentioned it to Sam as we whizzed by, and he asked, "Would you like to go?" 

"Yes!" I said without hesitation. I would have rather gone in the early morning, but this was my only chance. He swerved off before we nearly missed the exit and wandered around for a bit, trying to figure out where to go to park where we'd be near the river. After finding a spot, we headed down by the water,  pausing to enjoy the reflections and the red, white and blue of three enormous State Farm office buildings across the water.  

My son and I walked along in the relative quiet and darkness, watching a heron flap off and frightening a few ducks that must have already bedded down by the river bank for the night.

Christmas lights had already been strung across the bridge down the way. That is where we decided to stop our walk and turn around. It had been a pleasant walk, one I enjoyed with my oldest boy. He's the one that took some of these pictures and shared with me. (All my children know their mom has a voracious appetite for photos to put on her blog!)

I found that even in the city, there was a spot of quietness and peace, like the spot we can find no matter where we are, the "place of quiet rest near to the heart of God." 

And yet, it was bright with night lights, and I was distracted.

Of course, I prefer the country.

I prefer wading in Salt River.   

But it wasn't in the country or by the river or by the fountain that I heard one of the most comforting messages from the Lord in my life.  

It was actually in a crowded Allegiant jet as Sam and I were flying back from Arizona to South Dakota day before Thanksgiving.

Because God isn't limited to fountains and rivers and quiet walks in the woods.
He's as present in a jet stream as a mountain stream.

I was thinking about how this cancer journey has brought me face to face with a deep fear in my life--and has caused me to look that fear in the eye. 

The fear of death.

I know Christians aren't supposed to be afraid to die, but I was afraid.

 I was afraid that maybe there would be something that wouldn't be right with God, maybe an unconfessed sin, or something I'd forgotten or hadn't made right. 

That maybe in the end there would be something that would keep me from making it to heaven.  

What if I wasn't holy enough or careful enough? What if something I said or did recently didn't get repented of and forgiven in time?

I'm not sure how to describe the vague feeling of fear.
But I had to start looking at that fear because when you have stage 4 cancer, you have to realize that your time may be short. 

And what if, when I cross the river, I haven't been good enough, or patient enough, or holy enough, or unselfish enough,

and I can't find a Hand to hold onto?

There on that plane 36,000 feet in the air above somewhere between Phoenix and Rapid City, I was thinking about these things, and the words to a hymn that my Morley family had sung many times years ago, and that we had sung every once in a while in recent years

 came to me.

"My faith has found a resting place,

Not in device or creed.
I trust the ever-living One.  

His wounds for me shall plead. 

I have no other argument,

I have no other plea.

It is enough that Jesus died, 

And that He died for me. 

Enough for me that Jesus died,

This ends my fear and doubt,

A sinful soul, I come to Him,

He'll never cast me out.

I have no other argument,

I have no other plea.

It is enough that Jesus died, 

And that He died for me."

Those words did not come to me in church or while sitting on a Sunday afternoon by Salt River as Jonathan and I had done a month or so ago.

They came on a jet roaring high in the air after leaving one of the fastest growing cities of the nation. 

They didn't come to me as I wandered the White River Cemetery a few Sundays back, wondering where I might ask to be laid, if my time is short.

They came to me in the most unexpected time and way--just the way the Lord loves to do.

When you are having to find peace in submission to a plan that you never wanted to happen, high in the air about to come in for a terrible bang of a landing (see my last post about that one!), He comes to you.

He doesn't require that we be standing by a sunny window with perfectly focused attention and perfectly worded prayers.

He just comes to us, us with our vague and nagging fears, 

us with our secret worries and hangups,

 us with our deep, deep needs.

He gives us with our hangups something to hang onto.

He gives to our wordless ache the perfect words.

He gives to our secret fears that we are afraid and ashamed to voice

a Voice of calm and peace. 

Thanksgiving at the Lucases

  Our memorable, beautiful, challenging, busy, and first-ever-in-South-Dakota Thanksgiving!

Sam flew down to Arizona to be with me my last day there, taking me to the clinic for my last day of treatments, especially herceptin, and then navigating around Phoenix as we moved our belongings from the Air Bnb where we'd stayed for nine days back to Gospel Center.

He also flew home with me, experiencing the same terrible jar that I did when the airplane landed with such a horrible bang that I thought we were goners! My neck was jarred, and my head hurt, but we survived.

"Welcome to Rapid City!" the relieved and excited airline attendant squealed. "Happy Thanksgiving!"

I was so weak and shaky after that big bang that I was grateful for Sam's help with the suitcases.

He drove us home from Rapid City after we ran into several stores, including Sams where I filled a cart with groceries and other ware.  

The sunset we saw on our way home 

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Rose and Carrie arrived shortly after we did at our home! Happy reunion! 

Thanksgiving morning found us all very busy!

Rose wanted to make pies.

Here is the apple pie she made besides the pumpkin pie.  

I have some sillies in my family--and that is okay! Laughter is good medicine!

A friend called, lonely, and asked me to take pictures of our family Thanksgiving and to take pictures of all the food.

So here are the pictures I took especially for her. 

Danny and Hannah have had to learn a lot this summer and fall, and are best buddies now!

Even Hunting buddies!

 

A couple siblings getting ready to go check out the land around for deer. You can see the mission box truck that Rose drove home from Mission where it had been parked after having the last of our things loaded up from Rosebud that we'd stored there.

 

And didn't Danny get his Thanksgiving deer!

We had fresh venison meat the next day.

Even I jumped on the four-wheeler with Jonathan to buzz down to where Danny had called from to congratulate him and watch him get a photograph and then toss the 100-lb deer single handedly on the four wheeler. (It didn't work too well!)

Then Rose and I were cold and we couldn't all fit back on the four-wheeler now that the deer was on it, and plus I hadn't had my outdoor walk that day, so we took off walking--

 

only to hear a whistle a while later! It was Jonathan! He was huffing and puffing trying to catch up with us! He decided he should have some exercise, too, and let the boys drive the four-wheeler. So Rose took this picture of Jonathan and me in the moonlight with one of the dogs. What a fun evening--even if it did end with the cistern running dry and then the water wouldn't come through the pipes even after we got loads of water. I didn't get to do dishes till nearly 10 o'clock, and even then I only had a wee little bit of water. That is a story in itself.