Furry Animals and Fuzzy Laprobes--Sharing Jesus' Love

While our dog Aspen is thwapping her tail on the kitchen floor for some reason, I will tell about what was supposed to happen at Christmas time but finally happened today! 

 

I had scheduled with the White River Care Center to bring boxes of donated brand new sweaters, homemade lap robes, and fuzzy stuffed animals to share around at Christmas time, mostly collected by my sister-in-law Anita with Lifeline Gifts. Instead, the nursing home shut down for weeks because of a covid outbreak. No one was allowed to visit, and the poor residents were basically kept in their rooms for weeks at a time. Every time my daughter Crystal went inside to pick up her dialysis patients to drive them to Rosebud or to pick up nurses to take home after shift, she had to wear not just a regular face mask but an N-95 mask. 

 

So I waited and waited. Finally the care center opened up for visitors again, and today Hannah and I took four boxes. 

"Help us, Lord!" I breathed out loud as we arrived, since I didn't know quite how to distribute the articles or how it would go over, or even if I would be allowed to do so today. 

But sure enough, the activities director met me right away and welcomed me to go in with our donations. Most of the residents were already in the dining hall for a time of coffee and exercises. 

(I am impressed with this care center and the way they care for the patients, constantly having activities, exercises, and so on for them.) 

They had me lay out items on a big table and the residents came up, mostly in wheel chairs, to choose something. One man chose the biggest, fluffiest, long-eared bunny and was so tickled for it, especially when he discovered a fuzzy white blanket that matched it! He took that, too!

Most of the ladies received a top of some sort, along with a lap robe and fuzzy animal of their choice, with this particular lady (above) ending up being the only lady large enough for several of the very large tops! She seemed quite happy for them! She was willing for me to get a picture with her. A nurse helped by writing her name on the tags in them in permanent marker so the items could remain in her possession. This is one of the ladies I usually visit and have prayed with. The last time I was going to pray, she asked me to "sit close." So I think we are becoming friends!

On one of my better days in between chemo, it was a joy to share God's love in this way today. 

God Is My Ice Cream Cone

Last week I had to go back to Rapid City (2 1/4 hours one way) for my one-week after-chemo labs and to see the oncologist, as well as my 6-month checkup with the surgeon. One week post-chemo, I was feeling, to be honest, terrible.

Because Jonathan had a very long list of plumbing parts, lumber, and other business material to find at Menards, I asked him to just drop me at the cancer center and please just go get as much done as he could so that when I was done with all my appointments, we could just go on home. 

I sat in what were thankfully comfortable chairs near this fake gas fireplace in between being called for blood draw, oncology, radiology, and surgery departments. I had eaten boiled eggs for breakfast and I ate a salad I had brought for lunch with avocado and goat cheese in it to make it something more than lettuce and celery. And we were planning to purchase take-out meals at Pancheros before heading home. 

Most of the time, I cannot turn to food for comfort anymore, mostly only for sustenance, and so I have to turn to other things to give life any meaning and joy--which can be tricky.

As a Christian, I know I am supposed to live for Jesus, and for God's glory above all else. But as a human being as well, I do find that I need some things to give my human life meaning and comfort--like meaningful things to do, good people to love, beauty to enjoy, even good food and hot drinks. How do we live solely for Jesus in our human and very earthly body?

One of the things Jonathan and I have done so far in my cancer journey has been to do something special or go somewhere beautiful after my chemo treatments or miserable trips and appointments or whatever. Not every time, but most of the time. 

Usually somewhere close to where I am being treated there will be parks or spots of seasonal beauty.

The week I got chemo, I was able to take a short walk at a park where we could admire the amazing artistry of God's frost everywhere!

But this week, I had nothing to look forward to. There was no frost, and no time to do anything except wait for appointments in front of the fake gas fireplace in the cancer care center and then sit in the car for another hour or two while Jonathan frantically tried to gather up the last minute lumber and other items he needed at Menards for more than one job. 

  

And then when we did stop at Safeway so I could run in to see if they had sugar-free icecream, I forgot the very thing I went in for! I was feeling so awful and just craving ice cream for something wet and good to help me feel better--and then I got other things first so the ice cream wouldn't thaw, and then forgot what I really wanted! 

It was while waiting in the vehicle at Menards that I hastily wrote this poem on the back of the Menards pick-up sheet of paper while Jonathan tried to find everything.

Today I planned a treat to buy,
Sugar-free ice cream I would try.
I hurried into Safeway fast
And first found veggies for health's repast.
I grabbed a few unexpected sales
And stood in line with all the snails.
I met my hubby right on track 
And unloaded my cart and pushed it back.
Then settled in my seat to go;
We still had errands to run also.
Then suddenly a light bulb flashed.
I'd forgotten the ice cream in my dash! 

That's what I went in there for;
It's why I stopped at the grocery store! 
I'd bought carrots, celery, and organic bananas
And salsa con queso with corn chips for Anna. 
But ice cream? Ice cream was still on the shelf!
 I sputtered and sighed to my poor little self! 
We drove to our errands and I sat subdued.
I wanted my ice cream. C'mon, wouldn't you? 
But I had none. Do I sigh and weep,
Curl up in a self-pitying heap? 
My hands were folded in my lap. 
I let go of ice cream and I looked up. 
"Lord, You are my comfort," I told my God 
Though in these days that may sound odd. 

"You are my solace to whom I turn
When for small pleasure my emotions yearn.
O Lord, You are my comfort zone,
My coffee cup, my ice cream cone!
You are the pleasure that I lack.
I taste of You and turn not back. 

(For the record, we found a little grocery store in Wall on our way home that had sugar-free icecream, and I got to lick icecream for a long time! Yum!)

The Butterfly Girl and the Miracle Song

About 52 years ago a "butterfly" girl was born to our pastor's wife's brother. 

He and his wife named her Beverly, and her sister, at her funeral Friday, said she always thought of her as a butterfly. 

She was normal and perfect in every way, I assume, just like my little grandbaby--until she succumbed to the Asiatic or some such flu at the age of 17 months. After her temperature hovered at 107 degrees for several days, she was never the same. Ever afterward, she was crippled and handicapped, unable to talk, walk or care for herself. Her parents cared for her as long as they could, and then had to put her in a special home. 

Finally pneumonia took her a few days ago, but not before her sister from Colorado Springs flew in to spend the last night with her. And not before her aunt Rathel (twin sister to our pastor's wife Mathel) went to be with her during her last night. Beverly had been preceded in death by not only her father but also two siblings. Her aunt Rathel, who wanted to sing to her, had been unable to sing for two years due to throat issues.

But last Friday night in Mississippi, in that lonely room full of a silent butterfly girl and a grieving almost 80-year-old aunt from Missouri, an angel touched not the lips of the aunt, but the throat. 

And for an hour, Aunt Rathel, who could not sing,

sang. 

Friday at the funeral, Beverly's sister shared that she had always thought of her sister as a butterfly. 

For seventeen months of her life, she was a cute, fuzzy caterpillar.

Then she went into a cocoon for 50 years.

And now, in heaven, she has finally become a butterfly--whole again!

The following morning, as Beverly's other aunt, (Mathel) our own pastor's wife, was having her devotional reading, the verse was from Psalm 32. 

"You surround me with songs."

Friday night in Mississippi, angels and an aunt that could not sing

surrounded a butterfly girl with songs. 

And the next morning in South Dakota, it must have been another angel that whispered about the songs to that aunt's twin sister, our pastor's wife. 

They Are My Brothers--a Call to Prayer

As news outlets chatter their endless waves of reports, we hear of protestors and ICE agents and Supreme Court cases and rivers of blood running in the streets of Tehran. 

And while today my daughters and I took down the Christmas tree at church and tidied and vacuumed and then came home to a warm house to eat leftovers for lunch, launder guest bedding, and make bread for future meals, 

thousands have died in Iran. 

Hundreds are waving posters at the steps of our own Supreme Court. And Franklin Graham has called our nation to prayer tomorrow, January 14, Wednesday, at noon. 

The ones who have died are my brothers, too, just distantly related. 

Oh God, as the world erupts in violence and protest, and  while blood gushes in the streets,

hear our prayer and help us find our way.

They are my brothers,

my sisters,

my parents and neighbors.

They need You.

Help us and them we pray. 

Putting Away Christmas--But Still Celebrating!

It was time to put away Christmas decor for another year--but not time to stop celebrating. 

Not time to stop worshipping the Christ.

Not time to mourn over red and gold ornaments stowed away in bins. 

The angel baby still smiles and sleeps. 

There are new hangings for the wall.

There''s wood to split and work to do and prayers to pray and songs to sing. 

Last week as I sat at the cancer care center watching a worker haul in a huge box in which to pack away the large Christmas tree, I thought about putting away Christmas. 

I am so thankful for the lights of Christmas, because Christmas comes when the days are short and nights are longest. 

We need the lights. 

In our home, I try to redecorate more simply after we lay away the festive decor of this time of year. I choose blues and whites, wintry things, Scripture.

And I choose to look forward, not back. 

We must look forward into January and February and March, toward Valentines Day and spring time and Resurrection Day--and eternity!

Our multi-colored Christmas lights are replaced with the never-ending South Dakota sky colors of sunset, the greens and reds with blues and whites of snow and frost and sky and moon. 

And dark red poinsettias are replaced with pink and white amaryllis--already blooming, 

one blossom after another as each January day dawns. 

***

It's Time to Put Christmas Away

It's time to put Christmas away

With all of the tinsel and toys.

It's time to store baubles and treetops

But not to pack singing and joy.

It's time to sweep needles and pine

And all of December's fine dust,

But the thought of God's Good News remains;

In Him thru this year we will trust. 

The Christmas wrap rests in its bin,

All the lights in the box do belong,

But all year we are happy in Him

And our hearts continue in song. 

The nativity's wrapped in its package,

And angels and wise men are stored,

But love and the whisper of angels

Are still felt from our beautiful Lord.

 by Anna

Baby Smiles and Fireman Danny!

It's About Time for More Baby Pictures!

 

No use lying wakeful in bed with feet tingling from chemo when I can be up blogging with the dearest pictures Rose sends of her baby Ellie! This one just leaves me looking and looking and thinking what a sweet angel God sent us this year!

Well, oops,  angel most of the time. 

This year there's not just angel babies but also Fireman Danny! At the firefighters annual Christmas dinner last Friday, Danny was given a jacket with logos and his name personalized on it. 

He has nearly finished Firefighter I and II courses.

And Saturday evening, he and Peter ended up getting in on a dumpster fire in Sunrise community of Mission, a section of town called the "ghetto" of Mission. A young person threw a rock at one of the fire trucks later as it left. The fire had been so hot it melted siding on a building near it. 

Back home, after that, Danny joined Peter, Hannah, and my sister Dorcas for a quick game of Slam, a type of scrabble game. 

 I had played this with Dorcas the evening before, but opted to help Jonathan with looking up details and commentaries for details for his Sunday message. He and Danny are scheduled to take turns with Pastor Ambrose each Sunday, alternating who speaks, to help out as Pastor is aging. 

Danny also oversees the work being done when Jonathan has to go with me to medical appointments or, as he did today, attends a court hearting of a young Lakota man we care about. Danny sent this picture on our family chat, setting up a 30-foot interior wall today at the church hall in Martin. 

Meanwhile, in Colorado, our Carrie is spending the night with Rose and helping her sort and organize baby clothes, and Ellie gets a new pair of jammies, Rose says! She keeps growing out of her clothes!

And with this sleepy angel face, I'll bid you adieu!

Amaryllis Blooms on My Dad's Birthday

Last night my sister Dorcas and I remembered that today, January 11th, would have been my dad's  birthday were he alive today. He would have been 90 today.  

I couldn't help noticing the hymn Dorcas's son Peter was picking out so beautifully on his guitar, "Face to Face." It was one of my dad's favorite hymns. 

As most of us gathered in the livingroom to enjoy Peter and Hannah playing guitars, we started singing together. Hannah was practicing "He Shall Hold Me Fast," which she sang this morning in church service. We sang "Blessed Assurance," "As the Deer Panteth for the Water," and "Rock of Ages," another of my dad's favorites.

He would have been glad to see us gathered around the supper table after dinner, with Peter reading the devotional, us discussing it, and us all praying. (Dorcas took this picture unknown to me!) We have tried to be faithful to carry on the godly tradition of family worship daily.

Last night Jonathan was trying to put a message together for our church today, since he and Danny are taking turns helping with sharing God's Word every other Sunday at church as our pastor continues to fail. I loved the cozy scene of the Matthew Henry's One-Volume Commentary lying open on the table near the amaryllis that I thought was going to take at least three more days to open. 

Instead, what would meet my wondering eyes this morning but this first bloom--already open! 

Just in time for my dad's birthday!

 I called Mom before leaving for church to tell her that my amaryllis bloomed to help us celebrate Dad's birthday! She had forgotten it was his birthday as she has been sick this week, wasn't up to going to church, and wasn't paying attention to dates on a calendar under these circumstances!

I told her about us singing some of Dad's favorite songs last night and how I was going to take the blooming amaryllis to church, which I did. Our pastor and his wife were tickled to have this beautiful bloom up front today. 

By afternoon, the second bloom was also opening. I wanted to take a picture of it in the sunlight. 

And there I am, in front of a cedar near our church, ready to carry my precious flower back home from church, the one God coaxed to bloom on what would have been my dad's 90th birthday.