Family Hike to Devil's Bathtub--While Angels Hover 'Round

 I already posted pictures about our whole family hiking to Spearfish Canyon Falls last weekend, but after that was done, we drove a few miles down the canyon road and decided to hike to Devil's Bathtub. 

I thought it was near the road, not realizing the hike would take the better part of two miles from where we had to park. 

The weather was PERFECT--lots of snow on the trees, but the roads and paths were clear and there was no wind. I can handle cold temperatures if there is no wind. 

We had to cross this stream umpteen times. This time Tim and Danny found more flat rocks to put down for the girls, especially Crystal and Caitlyn who had not thought to bring boots. The weather in both Colorado and South Dakota had been unseasonably warm and dry, and it didn't occur to them we might need boots.

Hannah in the wonderland!

I finally had to give up as I felt my legs about to give out. I was amazed I had hiked as long as I had, but I found a little rock ledge near the stream and insisted the others go on to the end, even Tim who offered to stay with me.

I sat there all by myself, arranging my gloves on the rock so it wouldn't feel quite so cold and damp to sit on, and I was thinking about urging my family to go on without me. I thought if later this cancer journey leaves me out of the picture, I would want my family to have experience in going on with life without Mom. 

Tim had a different idea. He was thinking about his mom, still living, sitting back there all alone, and next thing I know, he is appearing again from the trees and path across the stream. He starts back across the stream, calling, "Would you mind if I stayed with you?"

Did I mind?

Not in the least. It meant a lot to me, and I tried to tell him what I'd been thinking, and how, after Mama Lucas died, Jonathan tried to decide if he should go ahead with the elk hunt he had planned. His dad and other siblings were the ones planning to meet with the funeral director.

"I can just hear Mama saying 'Oh, just go ahead and hunt!" Jonathan said.

And he decided to go ahead with the children with the elk hunt--resulting in Jonathan bagging an elk the first night of the hunt!

He felt very blessed, and I never forgot a mom having the reputation for wanting her children to just go on with plans and be happy. 

It gave us something to do and talk about while waiting that dreadfully long week before the funeral.

Now a few years later, I'm waiting behind because of weakness and cancer and chemo, and I am trying to pattern my life after an unselfish mother-in-law as well as my mom, too, and other Bible figures and Christian mothers who want to have the best for others. 

I didn't know that was where I was going when I first started writing this post, but suffice to say, mother and son had a lovely chat while waiting about half an hour for the others to return. 

And while they got to see and snap photos of  Devil's Bathtub, a son and I got to visit beside the 

stream,

and I think angels hovered over both places at once. 

They always do.  

Our Whole Family at Spearfish Canyon Falls

 A friend called me today, and when, after conversing a while, I told her that I had the phone in one hand, and with the other I was unpacking a cheese press that I had been given for my birthday, she asked, "Why aren't you sitting down resting?" 

I could have told her, "Because you are talking too long," and I can just hear her merry laugh the way she does when she is tickled. 

But really, as long as I can get around, I try to be industrious and useful, but right now, since Jonathan and Danny won't be home till a bit late, I will indeed sit down and rest by blogging and sharing some beautiful moments from last weekend. Jonathan wanted to do something extra special for me since my 60th birthday is coming up--which is unbelievable. And so he planned a weekend for the whole family in the Black Hills not far from Spearfish Canyon Falls, to which we hiked Saturday morning. 

We could not get over how incredibly perfect the weather was--a heavy, wet snow on Friday, the day we arrived, but warm enough that the roads remained clear, as did most of the paths we had to walk on Saturday. 

What a beautiful birthday gift from the Lord to both Jonathan and me (whose birthdays are only three days apart) to get to stay a couple days in a winter wonderland like this--and yet have the roads be clear! Because where we stayed had some very steep mountain roads and streets, and I would have been almost dying of fright had they been icy--like they were last night in the mountains near Black Canyon of the Gunnison, where our Tim ran into black ice on a curve and nearly ended up in Black Canyon! (I had literally imagined that happening as I went to bed, but isn't it wonderful that a mom with imagination running wild can put her son into the care of God and His angels and sleep all night?)

Bad roads where we stayed would have been extra dangerous because we were hauling a cargo trailer around after having to pick up in Rapid City a second load of security doors for the mission churches before the business closed early for the weekend and before we headed to the mountains. 

Gratefully for us, our roads were just wet, as you can see in this photo Jonathan took of several of us taking off for a walk Friday evening after the snow quit and before we gathered in a circle to play Catch Phrase, a new game I really enjoy. 

Morning found us enjoying the fresh aspen leaves in the sunlight not far outside the windows,

and baby Ellie with the snow in the background. 

Some of the family had forgotten to think of boots because the weather has been so terribly dry and even HOT, that we have almost forgotten what it is like to need winter coats, boots, and gloves. But thankfully, the paths we hiked were almost completely clear of snow as well as hardly muddy at all. 

Spearfish Canyon Falls was epic in the fresh snow. We had visited here last fall with just five of our South Dakota family, but this time, we had all the family, as pictured above. 

And here are the two birthday people! And more pictures to come!

Galas, Assassination Attempts, and God's Good Gifts

This weekend I had reason to be thankful that I was not the President, or his wife, or any such famous person. 

I was just a very lowly, ordinary mom who was taking pictures of daffodils in snow in the Black Hills instead of being a journalist trying to capture the near-assassination of President Trump on camera at the journalists' gala at Washington Hilton ballroom. 

The closest we came to fame this last weekend was when Danny's firetruck, with him inside the passenger window, ended up in the news, along with one of the two or three fires he fought just before we left for the Black Hills. 

No one would know that was him in the fire truck except us family whom he told in letters of neon green. 

I was just a wife (still weak from multiple chemos) eating breakfast beside a very un-famous husband (who was struggling with worse and worse pain ever since the spider bite, although he thinks it may possibly be getting just a bit better). 

And I was just an almost 60-year-old grandma whose birthday was being celebrated a few days early by her not-famous-at-all-but-wonderful family. All weekend I was blessed, not with popularity or huge galas, but with loving gifts from my heavenly Father and my dear and precious family. Here above I am admiring a cheese press from Sam and Caitlyn, after opening a gift of a book and homemade dishcloth and patchwork potholder, made with so much love by Rose.

And Tim comes from hiding with his milled live-edge boards for Danny to screw together for a bookcase for my room. There were geraniums from Danny, extra special olive oil and dried yummy, salty mushrooms from Carrie, a book and cheesecloth and pansies from Hannah, pretty springy dish drainer mats and a floor mat from Crystal, and a new CD player from Jonathan.  

And while the Marine Band plays somewhere at a gala in Washington, D.C., I get to be part of just singing some simple songs and worship choruses that Tim, Hannah, and Rose strum along with on their guitars and mandolin they brought along. 

Christian music is something the family knows is worth a lot to me--a good gift from God. I was too weak to stay watching the children having fun across the road that Saturday afternoon after the morning hikes, and I ended up on the sofa where Tim found me and brought his guitar down--or up, whatever the case may be, since the place we stayed had basement bedrooms as well as upstairs one. 

"He Will Hold Me Fast," "Gentle Shepherd," "In His Time," Something Beautiful," and several others were ones we sang, with Tim looking up chords on his phone. 

Baby Ellie is charmed and excited about music. She would start jumping in utero, Rose tells us, when she heard music, just like baby Crystal did in utero in Ukraine, I remember, in the worship services when the music started up so many years ago. Now it happens again, and the girls let baby strum a bit, too!

A precious granddaughter is a gift of God. When I don't know how many more months or years the Lord will give me, I count it such a gift to get to see my first grandchild and enjoy her and hold her.

Baby falling asleep trustfully on my shoulder is a gift--a reminder that we can lay our weary heads upon the great Divine Shoulder and trust Him with our burdens. 

In place of our burdens, He gives us good gifts!

And while galas are interrupted with gunshots, a simple, ordinary mom gets to enjoy God's good gifts--including the gift of prayer--

prayer for our president, his wife, and our other national leaders,

prayer for journalists, judges, and juries,

and prayer for just everyone-

that they would come to know the love of God, be given the gift of repentance, and would find forgiveness and grace at the foot of Christ's cross!

Black Widow Spider Bite--Ward French's Story

"I ache all over," Jonathan told me a couple mornings ago. "I feel as if I've aged more in the last two months than ever, ever since that spider bite."

Age creeps up on us! Or does it fly? Jonathan's dad is going to be 90 next month.  

In this picture Rose sent a couple months ago, Jonathan's dad is sharing his cane with Ellie, who is quite captivated! It's good to have the memories, wisdom, and experience that elderly people have. As we are struggling through these weeks and months of post-spider bite, it was most interesting to hear the story from our dear friend, Ward French, and his spider bite story. As he was texting me some with details for the book I'm writing about him and Naomi, he mentioned about nearly dying from a black widow spider bite. So of course, I asked for more details. 
He remembered some things quite vividly, and below is the story I wrote yesterday into a chapter in his book.

 If it wasn’t one medical emergency on the reservation there at Chinle, Arizona, it seemed to be another. One day Ward experienced a spider bite from a black widow spider in the family outhouse. Ward’s sister had once been bitten by a brown recluse which caused a serious but merely local problem of swelling and infection in her arm. Ward's bite was different. Before long, the bite was resulting in paralysis that spread upward until it reached Ward’s heart. It felt like life was being squeezed out of him!

“If it reaches your brain,” the Navajos told him, “you will die.”

“You must go to the hospital!” Hattie urged Ward.

He shook his head. No dying in the hospital for this country boy! “I’d rather die right here in Rincon,” he said faintly but firmly.

Hattie had a different idea. Ward must go to the hospital, but not to die. He must go to save his life! She managed to find a young man who could take Ward to the Dunkard Mission in Torreon where someone there could get help for Ward. The young man was actually the same one who had shot Johnny in the chest! Now he was called upon to help save Ward’s life. Out at Torreon, Ward was put on oxygen and rushed to the hospital in Albuquerque.

On the way, Ward remembered what he had studied in pre-med college biology about the effect of the poison of black widow spiders. He was quite sure he had read somewhere that there is enough poison in one bite to kill four adults if it can be injected effectively. Typically, black widow spider bites are not fatal, but then there are the ones that are, and his bite had already paralyzed most of his body. How effectively had this spider injected its poison?

On the gurney, as Ward was carried into the hospital and came under the entry light, he saw another black widow spider up by the light! Could he not get away from black widow spiders?

Ward lay unattended for what seemed to him a very long time as the pressure and squeezing feeling around his heart did not let up. Although he could not walk at this point, he considered crawling off that gurney and going to another hospital, for it appeared that if he did not get help soon, he just may die after all!

Finally, hospital workers took Ward up several floors and began giving him anti-serum and other medication. A crowd of interns gathered around, some of whom began asking Ward unimpressive questions such as “How do you know it was a black widow spider that bit you?”

Weak, partially paralyzed, and bleary, Ward could not think well. “I don’t know,” he managed to say. 

“Do you know what a black widow spider is?” another asked.

At this point, an older doctor remonstrated with the younger ones. “This man is a biology teacher,” he said, “and he knows what a black widow is.”

Ward finally came up with something to say. “If you want to find one, go down to the exit from the emergency room and look up by the light,” he said. 

The doctors did what they could for Ward. Many miles away, Ward’s uncle Rob spent the night in prayer for Ward. The next morning, Ward felt as if he’d been beaten up all over, but he was no longer in critical condition.

“I’d like you to stay here for observation,” the doctor told him.

“No, doctor,” said Ward, “I don’t have insurance.”

“Well,” the doctor decided, “if you promise to come back if you have a relapse, I’ll sign you out.”

Ward was happy to be out of that hospital, and he never went back. When he got back home to the reservation, he checked out the outhouse and there was the black widow spider! Soon, however, the spider no longer existed to bite another person. 

Amazingly, this experience did not make Ward paranoid about working in areas where there were black widow spiders. God kept him free from fear so that he could continue to work wherever he was needed. God’s grace was there, like the unfailing artesian well on the mission property. 

As Ward observed the artesian well and the water it consistently produced for the many Navajo people who came to fill tanks, barrels, buckets, and jugs, he knew it was an unusual and wonderful picture of the unfailing grace of God.

“It reminds me of our deep Source of Strength when times are not pleasant,” Ward wrote. It was that source of strength that he and Hattie were depending on as they kept working at the mission, taught school, fought spiders, and raised their own growing family.

Rattlesnakes, Robins, and Angels

"Just letting everyone know it's time for rattlesnakes," Danny put on the family chat yesterday morning after a close call out on the ranch where he works. If you zoom in, you can find the snake in the photo he sent.

He was on a 4-wheeler chasing a cow when he noticed the cow suddenly veering, and before he knew it, he understood why--a rattlesnake was within a couple feet of his boot on the 4-wheeler boot rest! He ran that snake over and then came back to cut off its head with his knife, just to be sure it was safely dispatched, tramping its head with his boot and sawing away with his knife. 

Meanwhile, Jonathan was working on an indoor job, and discovered that, upon leaving the door open, he had an unusual visitor! A robin made its way in--like the cheerful mercies of the Lord find their way into our days of hard work and sometimes trouble and distress.

Like Monday. That was the day Jonathan and I went to Rapid City for my Echo cardiogram. We also had to take truck and cargo trailer to pick up the big order of security doors for mission churches. 

Let's just say, due to payment not coming through the mail yet, despite having been sent early the week before, the manager was not willing to release the doors--until Jonathan came up with a partial solution, and the man allowed part of the doors to be loaded. 

Putting security doors in the churches was on the schedule for BHE workers this week, and plus there is a deadline, so it was important for the doors to be picked up, doors that Jonathan had been trying to get in since last fall. (We shall dispense with comments about what a person has to go through to get things to happen.)

However, meantime, we also had to drop the truck at Discount Tire for an alignment, and from the time Jonathan first checked in to the time they actually got it done was several hours. We had a couple hours before dropping the truck to do other things, and Jonathan was able to shop at Menards across the street from Discount Tire while I sat and edited on my computer or embroidered on my patch for a semiquincentennial patriotic quilt that a lady in our community is doing. 

I won't bore you with all the other details about the other things that went wrong that day, at nearly every turn, except to say that while I was at Walmart trying to grab a few groceries last minute, Jonathan was at Menards for the third or fourth time that day trying to get them to find countertop he had ordered. They  looked and looked and couldn't find it. 

I got done with my shopping and finally Jonathan texted that at long last the Menards person had found it somewhere it probably should not have been, and he would be on his way after loading and strapping it safely in with all the doors in the cargo trailer. 

Outside by Walmart I waited and waited, thankful it was nice weather but tired and weak. Things were not supposed to have gone so bizarre. 

When Jonathan arrived, he hopped out to help me load the few bags of groceries, and as I turned back to the empty cart, it was only to discover a lady grabbing the handle with a smile and taking off.

I thought she must be an angel out of the blue, because now I didn't have to find somewhere to take the cart.

 And then when we woke up yesterday morning to discover a flat tire on that cargo trailer in our driveway, we could only thank the Lord, because the flat could have happened in the dark, one or two hours from home as we traveled home tired.

Little mercies of the Lord to help us in our troubles, like robins on the table and early blooming bleeding hearts in Mathel's flower garden yesterday! 

Our Broken Down Van

In case anyone is wondering about how our van turned out at the mechanic earlier this week, here is how it is doing right now--sitting on our flatbed trailer.

Jonathan went back up to Pierre Tuesday to bring it back  since the mechanic says the problem is the transmission and not the whole engine. So we think, with the help of a native mechanic who needs work, we will order a refurbished transmission and replace it ourselves for about half the price the mechanic in Pierre quoted us.)

So that is the update for now. Jonathan hasn't had time to find a transmission to order as he's been up to his neck in paperwork for BHE. Yesterday he had pile after pile of papers of estimates he was getting ready to turn in to SWA, bids for remodeling reservation houses, and he had Hannah helping him copy numbers and add them up. 

These have been very busy days. I've been blessed with energy, now that I'm 2 1/2 weeks post chemo, to even be able to work in the back yard gathering dry, scratchy tumbleweeds from along the fence to stuff into the burn barrel and rake a lot, spreading wood chips better and getting rid of the many sticks mixed in with them. This time I have another week and a half before I have to get more chemo. 

Plum Blossoms and Pasque Flowers

This post is an odd assortment of photos of springtime in South Dakota--

including plum blossoms

and a turtle in one of the ponds we drove by last Sunday. 

In the field somewhere above our house there was a whole patch of these pasque flowers blooming--one of the first wildflowers to bloom both here in South Dakota and in Colorado.

Alone, a wild plum branch just doesn't seem to have much, 

but from a distance, this is what a patch of plum bushes looks like. 

I loved the blue, blue sky behind the plum blossoms one day as I enjoyed the warm sunshine and the bees buzzing around.

Unknown to me, Jonathan snapped this picture of me down our driveway gathering plum blossoms for a vase for our house,

 for a bouquet to take to my friend Bonnie at the care center, and for our church for this Sunday.

Hannah snapped this one of our pastor's wife's plum tree in the sunset. 

More signs of spring--rows of early seeds in the garden.

A brother sent this photo of a nest of goslings near his place.