Delivering Christmas Cheer

 

  I probably really shouldn't have gone along to deliver Christmas trees just after getting back from chemo, truth be told. I might catch some sort of cold or flu or other terrible illness. Jonathan was going to be meeting up with the work guys afterward, and I'd have to ride along extra. However, I hobbled down to the Honda and went along, too, with Jonathan and Crystal, because I didn't want to miss out on delivering Christmas cheer.

We worried just a little, though. What if our friends already had trees? What if they weren't home and we'd have to just leave a plain old tree by their door?

 I needn't have worried. At the first place, the lady of the house was starting off walking for somewhere with a friend and children, but turned right around when she saw us coming. How thrilled they were to have a tree delivered!

"I was out looking for a tree today and couldn't find one," the lady told us. 

"Do you have a tree stand?" 

"Yes, I'll dig it out from somewhere."

"Lights?" Yes. "Ornaments?" We had picked some new ones up at the free shelf at the mission for this purpose. But yes, she already had all they needed!

The second place was the women's shelter in Mission, where a friend was staying ever since her mother died and she had nowhere else to go safely. 

"It's been dreadfully dreary here!" she told us. "Thanksgiving was so dreary!" She and the other mom there and all the children were so happy to see a tree being brought in, along with strings of lights and ornaments, since the people there had nothing. 

Jonathan set up the tree in the corner, and later our friend texted a picture of the tree after they had strung lights.  

It was such a small way to bring some cheer to someone among the joyless lives on the reservation. 

Moments later, we arrived on the scene where two of Jonathan's work guys were finishing up the day's work on a reservation home remodel. They welcomed pay checks from the boss!

We moved on down the street at Antelope, a section at the edge of the town of Mission, where more of the crew were finishing painting for the day.  

After cleaning the paint sprayer, Danny got up on a ladder and helped his fellow laborer haul the plywood up to nail over the window. Because if you don't board up the windows on vacant houses, the windows will be smashed. It's what happens on the rez.  

I don't very often get a chance to see what my guys are doing, but that night I took a risk and went along. It was a little chance to spread a bit of Christmas cheer in a world of dreariness and depression on the rez.

Black Hills Christmas Trees--and God's Tender Mercies

 Friday our family took a couple risks. First, we made a plan to go cut a few Christmas trees after my chemo treatment. 

Very risky. I wasn't sure I'd be up to going, but usually I can at least ride along, and I knew I needed something to look forward to. Up in the national forest, you can cut your own tree (plus up to four more) for just $10 each. Two other missionaries had asked us to cut trees for them, so we were out for three trees. 

The children, who had driven separately, scouted ahead and found a spot that showed potential for providing trees.  

It was even near the road, across a somewhat level space and up a bit of a hill. I thought if I went slowly, I could probably get there, and I did! I usually am in better shape immediately after chemo than two or three days later when I'm crashed and sick and achy and fatigued. 

I wore my Christmas hat--the only sparkle of red along that day! Together, we all chose a tree that we agreed upon. That would be ours.

Hannah decided she was going to chop the first one down, and she did!

There were several acceptable trees literally within yards of each other! It was as if God had planted them there years ago, just for this excursion by a little family whose mom was not up to hiking far but who wanted to be part of the outdoor excursion in God's beautiful creation! Next to this little patch of young trees was a large area that appeared to have been burned by forest fire some time back. Just a rather ugly area of dead trees, brown grass, and destruction. But then there were the trees--just what we needed!

Even more than we needed! "Would there be someone who doesn't have a tree that would like one among our native people?" I wondered out loud, after the guys discovered more than one nest hidden (or not so hidden) in the branches of different trees. 

We thought of someone right away, and chopped another tree down. Then we felt sure we'd find a second one to give to, and chopped a fifth tree. "Five is the limit," Jonathan reminded us. He, Danny, and Hannah hauled them to the little trailer the children had pulled along behind the van. 

We loaded those  as dusk deepened, but who couldn't notice the moon coming up in the sky? It was such a lovely evening, despite my fatigue and weakness. I thought back to earlier in the day.

While the children journeyed to Rapid City to meet Jonathan and me who had arrived earlier to Monument Cancer Care Center, I was sitting alone in my hospital room. I was getting my port poked (extra painfully this time) and hooked up to one infusion after another, while I thought about the bills piling up beyond what we are able to bear. I turned to God's Word, reading in my lighter-weight brown KJV Bible that I take when I'm away. I'm in the middle of the longest Psalm on earth, 119.

"I know, O Lord, that thy judgments are right, and that thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me. Let, I pray thee, thy merciful kindness be for my comfort, according to thy word unto thy servant. Let thy tender mercies come unto me, that I may live; for thy law is my delight."

I was tempted to think maybe God had afflicted me with this cancer because I wasn't doing something right, but is that what the verse meant to leave me with? I wasn't sure, so I went on to the next part that I could get hold of. 

"Let thy merciful kindness be for my comfort." And truly, He had been that comfort to us once again, on a chemo day. 

Up there in the middle of the pines, Jonathan and I remembered how the last time I got these nasty chemos, God had provided a beautiful fish to eat, from a little boy who was about to toss it back into the water.  

 

"The next time we came for treatment," I told the children out loud, "we brought fishing rod and supplies and Jonathan tried to find another fish. But we didn't even see any!"

"I saw a few finally near the end of our time at the park," Jonathan added. But we couldn't catch one to save our lives!

"God knew how blue Jonathan was that day after my chemos," I told the children, "and He provided a fish. But the next time, I only got herceptin and not the bad chemos, so I wasn't feeling as horrible, and we didn't need the cheering up as much."

 

I noticed my children listening quietly, attentively.

"God tells us," I added, "to tell our children about His works, so we are telling you how faithful God has been to us."

 

 

Coming down from the Black Hills, we saw these beautiful lights ahead and pulled into the parking lot of this lakeside park. I loved the colors and the star and the lake and the geese chattering to each other in the water.

Jonathan got a night picture of some of them. We stood there for a while, just enjoying the beauty, noticing a lit cross in the distance, and thinking about God's tender mercies. 

And now, could we be part of His plan in providing mercies to needy friends on the reservation? The next post will tell about that!

Immanuel--In a Hospital Restroom

God meets us sometimes in the most unlikely places--such as a hospital restroom and through unlikely things--such as a Christmas hat!

Yesterday as I was washing my hands in the restroom at Monument Cancer Care, I greeted the lady next to me who was also at the sink. She asked me how my morning was going, and I said actually a little better than it was earlier (I didn't say anything about how I had been feeling like passing out about the mounting bills and decisions at the doctor visit before treatment, and how we were going to pay for the chemos today). I remarked about how fun it had been to choose this hat from the free hat rack--because it was cheerful!

"Like you!" she smiled, to which I replied that we can have cheer even in our dark times because of God!

She looked at me suddenly, as a flash of understanding passed between us--a woman of faith finding another woman of faith--in the hospital restroom!

"I don't know how people get through life without God!" she said. 

"Me either!" I added, tossing my damp and crumpled paper towel into the trash. Then I said the first thing that popped into my head.

"Immanuel!" I breathed with conviction. "God with us!"

Right there today, in the hospital restroom, with mounting bills and days and weeks of chemo misery ahead. Immanuel was with us!

As I went out the door, I turned just a little and saw the lady--an awe-struck look on her face--pausing to watch me leave in the red, white, and green Christmas cancer cap, leaving behind the message of eternal cheer--

"Immanuel is with us--even in this cancer hospital!"

Chicken in the Sky--and He Will Lift My Head, Too!

Well, that chicken wasn't really in the sky, but there she was, perched on the tiptop log on one pile of firewood that the guys had gotten recently.

Right on top of all that pile of work and mess and chunks of whatever she felt like she needed to be on top of--

like I feel right now with certain plans switched around as to when Jonathan and I are leaving for tomorrow's possible chemo treatment (because of all the business/mission shopping he has to do around my chemo) and me just having to sit down for a few minutes to check out of the dizzying world--

and forget about all the food items, clothing, overnight gear, vitamins, and emergency stuff I have to pack up still for two nights away (or not--it's still undecided, which makes me dizzy).

I'm diving into my blog for a few minutes to share moments of grace in the middle of the chunks of work and muddle and worries.

Like moments when Crystal or Carrie or Hannah sit down at the piano...

or when Crystal and I get to watch the delightful Thanksgiving program Ricky Grubbs' mother's school children shared in Galax, VA.  Crystal didn't think she had time, but I was watching and exclaiming and oohing and ahhing, and she ended up watching some of the time, too.

And there were the moments when my niece Krissy helped Crystal and me  decorate the long-empty bulletin board in the church basement. The best part was putting on the stars.

We used some things Crystal had saved from when she did Christmas bulletin boards for the school where she taught.

There was the one above (a picture she shared with me from her phone)  

and this one. 

We combined the two to make this one. 

And Krissy being along with her helpful and cheerful self, made it a fun time of cheering up a chilly basement and an empty bulletin board. I had thought that board was half again as big as it was. It seemed to fill up a whole cavernous wall.

Instead, it was not much bigger than most, just that it took up most of the wall around the corner of the church stairs.

It was so much smaller than I had imagined it when we actually decided to do something about it--like many things are when you just worry or fret about them.

They look like whole big walls of blankness and distress until you take God with you and actually look at it with the thought of Him fixing it. And then He helps you with it, and it isn't so big after all. 

He shares the weight of all our cares and burdens, and lifts up our head until we sit like a star on top of a Christmas tree, 

lifting us so that we can stand on mountains of logs, firewood, worries, problems, and opposition with our head held high

under His big blue sky.

Gonna Be Grandparents!

Behind me a fire is blazing in our wood stove as I write, while wind whistles around the house and down the chimney.  A few weeks ago our daughter Rose and her husband Tom sent this announcement out to cousins and allowed me to send it to my family. 

And now I'm allowed to "spill the beans" on my blog, that Jonathan and I are going to be grandparents!

That sounds way too strange to me. I've felt like a little girl that didn't know how to grow up most of my life, and now I am supposed to be a grandma! 

(I mean, how can I possibly be a grandma when I haven't even grown up enough to make sure my slippers match on Thanksgiving morning?? )

It was sweet to hear both Rose and Tom, in our time of giving God thanks on Thanksgiving evening, thank God for the new life He was giving them in this baby they are expecting.

Of course, the great expectations have added a whole new dimension to our lives! All the siblings are excited and supportive, as are Tom's family members. The new baby, though still unborn, is added to our prayer lists, and everyone pitches in to help when Rose isn't quite as energetic as usual. I went hunting for the one solitary maternity dress pattern that I had saved through all these years, my favorite one, and I pulled out a couple jumper patterns, too, in case Rose or a sister would feel smart enough to alter the waists.

We're definitely not used to seeing Rose like in the above picture! Most of the time, she is doing fine, but morning sickness and other aspects of pregnancy take their toll! But she has gained ten pounds already, she says! And not thrown up more than once!

I am so grateful that Rose's mother-in-law is so incredibly supportive, the lady who knitted for me, with love and prayers, this shawl that I am wrapped up in this evening while my family is away at church. I went to morning service, but the extremely busy week and busy Sunday morning left me very tired. Plus sickness is going around, and extra guests were expected in church in Mission tonight, so I opted to stay home. 

Please pray that God will work out regarding chemo treatment this coming week and a way to pay for it through the hospital's sliding scale program.  

But for now, good night from the happy Grandma-to-be!

Moments Held in a Mother's Heart

 There are moments that are held tightly yet tenderly in a mother's heart.

One is when all her children are around the table again, under one roof, for Thanksgiving meal. (Danny set his phone camera up on the refrigerator and tried several times to get a picture. The lighting wasn't too good on this one, but at least it is a picture.)

r

And there are moments of just seeing the children (and a boyfriend, a girlfriend, and a niece who is fixing the fire) helping each other get ready for the Thanksgiving meal.

"I'm glad you're all here," says Crystal, "even if we keep bumping into each other!"

Laughter, joy, and gratitude filled the day. (Rose is at the far end of the table reading the article Sam wrote a few months ago after his medical mission trip to Africa where he was helping at the mission where his future girlfriend's sister and husband minister. Sam did not know at that time, back in March, that couple might become his future in-laws, but he connected well with them, especially Josh, who just became a US citizen a few weeks ago--just in time to get registered and vote conservative in our election.)

Hannah, Tim, and Rose "jam" evening before Thanksgiving, while we enjoy seeing them have such a good time with their guitars and banjo.  

And little brother (who isn't so little anymore) challenges big brother Sam on doing pushups on fingertips rather than the normal way.

And there is a discussion about breaking thumbs to do it.

Just like boys.

(And their mom is secretly glad the challenges are to do pushups on fingertips rather than taking first drinks of alcohol or doses of drugs or risks at gambling. 

Could a mom be more grateful or blessed than I am?

I found myself eager to help with washing the stacks of dishes, because the stack of dishes meant the whole family was together once again.

It was a joy to put away food leftover from all seven children around the table again, sharing exciting stories of this year's elk hunt and bear hunt. Carrie had gotten a bear, turning on cowboy music on her phone after the killing shot, because she knew other bears could be around and she was alone! She said the story of playing cowboy music "for the bears" or "to attract the bears" had gotten bigger and bigger at church!

Tom told the story of how he got his first elk this year and all the details about that.  

In the afternoon, some of the young people helped in the barn where Jonathan and Danny have been making a warm corner for the animals, and the others of us sawed and stacked half the winter supply of firewood. 

After supper we presented a few early birthday gifts to Sam, including a set of fireplace tools and a waffle maker with a couple jars of homemade waffle and pancake mix and maple syrup, and a few household items for the house he is still trying to finish remodeling.

After that, since we were already gathered in the livingroom, Jonathan led in reading Psalm 113, a scripture full of praise, and then he and I read three THanksgiving short stories that I had gleaned online from Guideposts. Then instead of just going around the circle simply saying what we were thankful for this year, (even atheists can do that, despite having no God to thank, and even heathen can do that, having only imaginary gods to thank) we bowed our heads and actually told the Lord, our one true God, one by one, our thanks to Him for special events, blessings, and mercies this year. It was very meaningful. One grace that stood out to me was Carrie who thanked God for a job she loved (stocking flowers at a large retail store in Colorado Springs and helping families with chores). Not everyone loves the job they must do day after day. But thank God for this wonderful blessing. And then--well, I will have a whole special post about another very, very special Thanksgiving that God was thanked for by our sweet Rose and her husband Tom.

For a while, Crystal and Carrie tried out playing Christmas duets from a piano duet book. What fun to listen to all that music as the sisters enjoyed being together again.

While there was plenty of food, including this pecan pie the girls made from scratch and other desserts made gluten-free so that Sam's girlfriend could enjoy them as well, we purposely kept the number of dishes of food to a minimum so that we could focus on each other instead of slaving all day and all night in the kitchen and then overeating only to

slouch on the couch

falling asleep because we were so stuffed.

There were blessings to be enjoyed, walks to take (several young people took their walk before sunrise while the stars were still shining)  work to do, wood to stack, music to play--and many things to do besides 

slouch on couches being way too full of way too much food. 

There was so much love to go around in practical ways, 

and tender ways--moments of love and meaning

for a mother's heart.