The Storms of Life

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.”
~ Psalm 46:1-3

Last Wednesday, Keen and I both woke up around 4:15 a.m. and decided to go on our “long walk” which is about 3 miles down our country road. There had been storms in the area off and on all week, but that morning it wasn't raining – there was just some lightning off in the distance. When we were about ¼ mile from our house, it started pouring down rain and we were immediately soaked to the skin. The lightning was flashing and the thunder was booming all around us.

“The voice of thy thunder [was] in the heaven: the lightnings lightened the world….” ~ Psalm 77:18

As we picked up our pace and started jogging toward home, we were both startled by a LOUD clap of thunder right above our heads. It was such a helpless feeling and there wasn’t a thing we could do about it because no one was around to give us a ride. I just felt so vulnerable walking down the middle of the road in the midst of a raging storm, so I started saying that Bible verse: "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me."

We had no choice except to hang on and keep putting one foot in front of the other. I told Keen that it was a picture of our life ~ going through the storms of life, hand in hand together, one step at a time.

“You called in trouble and I delivered you; I answered you in the secret place of thunder.” ~ Psalm 81:7 (NKJV)

I try to draw lessons from every day experiences, so this past week I’ve just been thinking about the storms of life each of us has to face. As I look around, I see that we all go through storms; some are small and some are large.

In Vicky Jones’ column, “View from the Backseat” which appeared in last week’s edition of The Prairie Post, she wrote about the wild goose chase she went on trying to find the magic key that unlocked the lug nuts on her “limo”. In a strange way, I think it helps when we hear that other people go through the same hassles and frustrations as the rest of us. (Yes, even Baptist ministers’ wives have bad days!)

With that in mind, I thought I’d make you all feel better by sharing a few of my own recent aggravations.

About a month ago, I bought a new computer that was supposed to make my life easier, but instead it’s had me pulling my hair out and questioning my sanity. I didn’t realize that when I “upgraded” to the new Windows XP operating system, several of my old programs would no longer function properly. One of those programs was my anti-virus software, which of course is imperative if you don’t want some computer hacker to steal your private information or send you a virus that wipes out your entire system. So I spent hours on the computer trying to resolve my problem by typing back and forth with a “live technician.” I did everything they suggested, but to no avail, so I decided to break down and pay $39.00 to talk on the phone to a real person. After going round and round, they concluded that I needed to delete all the files from my old program because they were interfering with the new version of their product. This involved a tedious and lengthy process of going into the registry of my computer and manually deleting every file one by one. It seemed like there were hundreds of them. But at that point I was willing to do anything to get out of the maze I found myself in.

After the new virus protection software was finally installed and operating like it was supposed to, I discovered that the firewall feature was not only keeping the hackers and other bad guys out, it was preventing me from doing things I wanted to do – like update my Windows XP. Needless to say, I was frustrated beyond belief by the time it was all over.

Then last week we decided to bite the bullet and sign up for DSL (high speed internet). I spent several hours on the phone finding out what it would cost and getting everything set up so I would be able to network with Keen and Kirk’s computers. We talked about modems, USB adapters and routers – each one coming with a separate price tag. My head was spinning by the time I got off the phone, but the representative assured me that it was very simple to install. In fact, he went so far as to say that his four-year-old daughter could hook it up. Well…. he lied. But God smiled on us when Kirk’s friend and his father offered to help us with the installation. If it weren’t for them, there was no way we could have figured it out by ourselves – even with the simple, step-by-step instructions!

Once the DSL was up and running (it’s wonderful, by the way), I was anxious to call my telephone company to cancel our second phone line since we wouldn’t need it anymore to dial-up to the internet. It sounds like a simple request, but apparently it’s quite complicated because I was transferred or asked to call back four separate times! I spent over an hour on the phone just trying to get them to disconnect our second line. The first person said his computer wasn’t functioning properly and asked me if I would “be so kind” as to call back. Of course, that meant I had to start all over and wait on hold for another operator. When the next representative answered the phone, I barely had a chance to utter the word “disconnect” before she abruptly replied, “I’ll transfer you.”

Transfer me? I had pressed the right prompt – the one that said, “If you’d like to make changes to your services/cancel features or services,” so why was I being transferred? Next, I listened to elevator music for 10-15 minutes along with periodic messages professing their “responsiveness and dedication” to their customers while at the same time apologizing for the wait and informing me that their representatives are still busy with other customers.

At long last, a gentleman answered the phone and asked for my name and number. However, my heart sank when he instantly sounded puzzled by my simple cancellation request. “Did someone transfer you to me?” he asked. “Yeeeees,” I replied through clenched teeth. He courteously explained that he was the DSL representative and didn’t have the authority or capability to process my order. He then informed me that I would need to call the main number back since cancellation requests were handled by the sales department. So it was back to square one for me. Unfortunately, when I followed his instructions and called the main number, I found out that the sales department was not one of the options offered on the telephone prompt. Talk about getting the run around!

At this point, Keen came up with the idea that that I might get better service if I called back and hit the prompt for new orders. It sounded like a good suggestion at first, but then I realized that I would wait on hold again only to be told that I had contacted the wrong department.

The fourth and final operator was a kindly woman from the Las Vegas office who seemed genuinely apologetic for the difficulty and inconvenience I had encountered. I was skeptical, but optimistic. Then I heard those dreaded words, “Hmmm…there seems to be a problem. I don’t understand. My computer isn’t pulling up your account.” I cringed. “Are you sure we are your telephone provider?” she politely asked. I explained that we had been customers for over 25 years and I was pretty sure I knew the name of our telephone company. Then I continued to hold as she tried unsuccessfully to pull up our account. She even tried our main telephone number and couldn’t pull that one up, either. By this time I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone!

After about ten minutes of this, she informed me that her computer had just “frozen up” and she was going to place me on hold while she called her supervisor to find out how to handle the situation. Swell. After another lengthy delay, she came back on the line and said that her immediate supervisor wasn’t able to pull up our account, either. (There was some good news, however. She just saved some money on her insurance with Geiko.) She said her supervisor’s supervisor had taken down my information and would try to process the order by the following Monday (this was Friday), so I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

But all of this is so minor compared to the larger storms of life others face every day. Like the literal storms that devastated Florida when the hurricane blew through and all those people lost their homes. Or the woman who lost her son in a tragic accident and said, “I wasn’t done being his mother.” Or Robert Rogers who lost his wife, Melissa and their four young children in the floods that swept through our area a year ago. “Anyone who goes through trial and suffering grieves,” he said. “I still cry all the time.” Or the family of Ericka Agee, the sixteen year old girl who was killed in a car accident last weekend while attempting to make a left turn onto Hwy. 4. Or the countless other unspeakable tragedies that occur everyday

We’ve all heard the phrase: “I felt sorry for myself because I had no shoes, until I met a man who had no feet.” I’d like to share a poem with a similar theme that I wrote about ten years ago.

UNTIL
By Eileen Umbehr

I complained the music was too loud
Until I met someone who could not hear

I complained the lights were too bright
Until I met someone who could not see

I complained the price was too high
Until I met someone who could not pay

I complained the work was too hard
Until I met someone who could not move

I complained I was so tired
Until I met someone who could not awake

I’d like to close with this poem my daughter-in-law, Lisa shared with me from the Sunday bulletin at her church.

Your Cross

Whatever your cross, whatever your pain
There will always be sunshine after the rain
Perhaps you may stumble, perhaps even fall.
But God is always ready to answer your call.
He knows every heartache, sees every tear,
A word from His lips can calm every fear.
Your sorrows may linger throughout the night.
But suddenly vanish at dawn's early light.
The Savior is waiting somewhere up above.
To give you His grace and send you His love.
Whatever your cross, whatever your pain.
God always sends rainbows after the rain.

“These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer,
I have overcome the world."
~ John 16:33

Blessings ~ Eileen

A Life Well-Lived

“Honor thy father and thy mother, as the LORD thy God hath commanded thee; that thy days may be prolonged, and that it may go well with thee, in the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.”
~ Deuteronomy 5:16

I’m seein’ my father in me
I guess that’s how it’s meant to be
And I find I’m more and more like him each day
I notice I walk the way he walks
I notice I talk the way he talks
I’m startin’ to see,
My father in me
And I’m happy to see
My father in me

Lyrics to “Seein’ My Father in Me” ~ performed by Paul Overstreet



Our Dad
Written in 1973 for my dad’s 59th birthday

Our dad is something special,
He’s not like all the rest
He’s funny, charming, good-looking, too
He’s got to be the best.

Our dad takes good care of us,
With him we have fun,
And if we were to rate him,
He would be # 1

Our dad is really great
He’s our most favorite pop
You could look all over the world
And find our dad comes out on top!

Our dad means a lot to us
We love him so, you see
And that is why he holds the name,
Pleasant Padre or P.P.


Our dad is special in so many ways
I couldn’t begin to count them
You can talk with Dad and joke with Dad
He really is somethin’

So you see, there are dad’s in Singapore,
And dad’s in Timbuktu,
But there isn’t a dad anywhere,
Half as great as you!

This is an excerpt taken from the diary I kept when I was a teenager:

April 1, 1974

Dad is so funny. Every morning he leaves off to
work singing some made up song. Like this morning he
sang, “I don't think I'll ever see...a guy as cute as me!”
Then he joined in laughing and said: "You know, that bugs
your mother...she doesn't like me telling her how lucky
she is." Then he went on to sing: "Lucky, lucky thee, you
have gone and married me!"


As I mentioned in my last column, the highlight of the annual Van Kirk reunion was the celebration of our father’s 80th birthday. What an amazing milestone! After putting our heads together, we tried to “honor our father” in a way that did justice to a well-loved man and his well-lived life.
Our brother Bill came up with the idea to have everyone send him a list of “Dad-isms” – quotes that they remember our father saying when we were growing up – and have them printed on the back of a T-shirt. Bill ended up with more Dad-isms than he could fit on the shirts, so he had to narrow them down to about forty.
Here’s a list of my personal favorites:
How are you, Dad? Better now.
That’s a good idea, Dad. It’s the only kind I have.
Are you ready? I stay ready.
I’ll review it with a forward moving posture.
You’re a gentleman and a scholar – and there’s damn few of us left.
Some of the world’s greatest people are left-handed.
You'll never know unless you ask.
Now don't go getting your Irish up!
Are you trying to give me a heart attack? You drive like a drunken sailor!
“Que, sera sera" – followed by a rendition of the song.
What was your contribution to society today?
If you have a tongue in your head, you’ll never be lost
You learn more from your mistakes than your successes.
Moderation in everything
Less said – easier mended
If the Good Lord’s willing and the creeks don't rise
I'm going to pull the car over and spank every one of you to make sure I get the right one.
I'll give you something to cry about!
You can’t kid a kidder
I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but I wouldn’t do it for all the tea in China!
Where’s my ukulele?
The world is your oyster!

When Bill was reading them at the reunion, someone hollered out from the crowd: “And you thought we never listened to you, Dad!”
On the night of his birthday party, Dad was pleasantly surprised to see a whole group of our dear family friends from Hudson. It really made the celebration special to be able to share it with all of them.
The festivities were emceed by Bob, who presented Dad with a scrapbook filled with cards, letters and poems sent in from friends who were unable to attend the birthday party. The scrapbook was put together so creatively by our nieces, Emily and Jenny (Joe & Cindy’s daughters).
After that, the grandkids all participated in performing an entertaining production by The Van Kirk Cousins – co-produced by Joanne’s two talented children, J.P. and Amy. (They write and direct a cousins’ skit every year.)
Next, Peggy read a heartwarming poem she wrote for Dad titled “Memories of a Daughter.” How she was able to keep her composure while reading it, I’ll never know.


MEMORIES OF A DAUGHTER
By Peggy Van Kirk

I know a father who…
•Let us dance on his feet around the living room
•Taught us to behave in church and restaurants and to always say, "Please and Thank You”
•Put on funny hats, strummed a ukulele, sang and made us laugh
•Drove our toboggan on icy winter days and yelled "Bombs Away!" from the top of the hill
•Skated gracefully across a frozen lake to join his children in their new found past time

I know a father who…
•Agreed we could enter a contest to win a puppy and watched with pride when we appeared on TV to claim our prize
•Took us on car rides down dark, windy roads so we could have fun being scared
•Bought wagons, swings, a Whirl-Around and bikes to enjoy and then had to move our toys to get into his garage each evening
•Gave us the first air conditioned house in the neighborhood and a new station wagon for cross country trips to Pennsylvania
•Carried his young, sleeping children from the car to their beds
I know a father who…..
•Saw that music filled our house and his songs filled the air
•Spent an arduous week on the road and the week-end at play with his children
•Finished the basement in our new house all by himself so his children would have more room to play
•Taught his children to speak French at the dinner table, and…
•Always asked about their day

I know a father who….
•Ensured that each of his 9 children were given all the opportunities in life that he could provide and who…..
•Replied when they came asking – “Did I ever say no to you?”
•Gave his teenagers the freedom to make their own decisions and taught them to accept responsibility for their actions.
•Made sure we treated our “elders" with respect
•Believed in the importance of telephone manners

I know a father who….
•Valued, his work, play, family, and religion
•Took regular vacations to renew his spirit and relationship
•Remained intensely loyal to his employer, co-workers, and customers
•Made time for daily physical activity to protect his health
•Modeled the importance of honesty and integrity in his actions

I know a father who…
•Cried when he should and laughed when he could
•Offered advice and suggestions when we started something new and congratulations when we accomplished our goals
•As we grew, he remembered us by singing the happy birthday song each year on our voice mail and ….
•Years ago started the tradition of reunions so we could join together each year to strengthen the bonds of family and who today….
•Finds candy in the ears of his grandchildren and sings to them about the Elephant's Fair

I know a father who….
•Cuddles sleeping grandbabies in the church pew
•Climbs on swings and takes a spin
•Has a zest, vitality and joy de vivre that has earned our admiration
• Is loved and honored by those here today

Happy 80th Birthday, Dad, Joe and Grandpa!

Ish Ka Bibble!

Finally, we all watched a video tribute to Dad’s life that I put together with the help of my sister, Patricia, who contributed countless pictures to the project and shared in half the expense, and my brothers and sisters who took the time to go through their photo albums and send me pictures of their family members with Dad. Gordon Schmid, owner of Story2Tell in Council Grove, worked a miracle by putting all the pictures and music together on a single DVD.
By the time the evening came to a close, it was all my dad could do to utter a few short sentences. As he choked back his tears, he turned to our friends from Hudson and said, “It’s like this all the time….really….all the time.” Then he went on to say that the credit belongs to our mother. “And those of you who knew Peggy understand what I mean.”
In short, when it was all said and done; he laughed, he cried; he sang, he danced – and it just doesn’t get any better than that.
I’d like to close by sharing a few lines from a letter Dad recently sent to all of his children.
“[I am] struggling to find words to express my feelings of gratitude and appreciation for one of the more memorable weeks of my entire life; the Family Reunion and the tribute you paid to me on my 80th Birthday!
“Let me say, I felt your affection and I felt your love! Who could ask for more at any age and at my age please know that if I’m lucky enough to make it through those Pearly Gates, I shall then, as now, be Eternally Grateful!”

“…the glory of children is their father….”
~ Proverbs 17:6 (NKJV)

God bless ~

Eileen
The Van Kirk Family
Peggy, Patricia, Connie, Joanne,
Joseph, Mary, Eileen, Bill, Bob
and Dad

Remember When

"But call to remembrance the former days…"
~ Hebrews 10:32

Remember when ~
Thirty seemed so old
Now looking back,
It's just a steppin' stone
To where we are,
here we've been
Said we'd do it all again ~
Remember when

Lyrics to "Remember When" ~ performed by Alan Jackson

This year's annual Van Kirk reunion took place near Brainerd, Minnesota at a wonderful family-owned resort called Ruttger's Bay Lake Lodge (www.ruttgers.com). All nine of us were there, traveling from as far away as Nevada, Seattle and Virginia. It was an extra special reunion on several fronts, but primarily because we were celebrating our father's 80th birthday which falls on August 24th. (More about that in next week's column.)

In the middle of the week, Keen and I decided to take a road trip to our hometown of Hudson, Wisconsin. My father's job with 3M required us to move quite often, so very few of us were even born in the same state. I was born in Cincinnati, Ohio, for instance, and we later moved to Edina, Minnesota. The next stop was Hudson, where we lived for the longest stretch of time - eight years before being transferred overseas to Singapore.

I have so many fond memories of the years spent growing up in the quaint little town nestled near the St. Croix River on the Minnesota border. My parents built a seven bedroom house at the bottom of a winding road called Proehl's Trail. It was named after the Proehl sisters - Ida, Sophie and Mag, and if my memory serves me correctly, only one of the sisters ever married. I became close friends with Mag and enjoyed many visits in her home. In fact, I still have the antique paper weight she gave me when I was a young girl.

Proehl's Trail, or Proehl's Point, as it is sometimes called, was a dead end road that circled around Lake Mallalieu. Our house was built right on the waterfront, which provided year around entertainment for the whole Van Kirk family - and all of our friends! In the summer we swam, fished, canoed and water skied. In the winter we skated, ice fished and went sledding on the hill in the woods behind our house.

From the moment Keen and I crossed the city limit sign into Hudson, my childhood memories started flooding back - beginning with the Dairy Queen on the edge of town. That was where my sister Peggy used to take me every year for my birthday. She told me I could get anything I wanted, but I always ordered a butterscotch sundae. It was such a treat! I'm sure Keen was a bit puzzled when I asked him to pull over and take a picture of me in front of the Dairy Queen. It was the first of many pictures I would ask him to take during my walk down Memory Lane.

Hudson has grown considerably since we lived there when the population was only about 5,000. I'm not sure what it is now, but as we drove down Main Street, I barely recognized it. The only storefront that jogged my memory was Sandeen Insurance, which has been owned and operated for over 50 years by the Sandeen family, our close friends and former neighbors. I also recalled the corner pharmacy, although I think the name has changed.

We managed to find our way to St. Patrick's Catholic School, where I attended school from 2nd grade through the 8th grade. What a blast from the past! There was Sr. Cornelius' music room - she was the only nun who wore a white habit. I remember how she called my mom to report that I was "crisscrossing" the suspenders on my plaid uniform in order to make my pleated skirt a little shorter. She used to get the ruler out and measure the distance between the bottom of my skirt and my knee.

Our next stop was the old home place on Proehl's Trail. The current owners, Herb and Karen Till, are long time family friends, and were nice enough to offer tours to any member of the Van Kirk family. So we decided to take them up on their generous offer. Tears filled my eyes as I walked from room to room through our former home. In my mind's eye I could just picture all of us running down that wooden staircase on Christmas morning into the living room filled with gifts.


The kitchen brought back memories of all those dinners spent talking and laughing around the table. My Dad used to constantly remind us to keep our elbows off the table. He'd say things like, "Your napkin fell on the floor" to get us to put our napkin on our laps. After dinner I remember how all nine of us would yell, "I scream! You scream! We all scream for ice cream!"

The corner of the kitchen, on the other hand, brought back some not-so-pleasant memories of time spent on my knees on those hard ceramic tiles as punishment for fooling around in church!

Even the intercom system brought back memories. It was piped into each of our bedrooms and every button was labeled accordingly. There was one master button that went to every room in the house so when it was time for dinner, Mom just pushed that button and made one mass announcement.

It was especially sentimental to see my old bedroom and look out the window at the same view of the lake I used to see when I would do my homework at my desk. But the most nostalgic moment of all came when Karen showed us a forgotten memory inside a built-in planter by the staircase leading to the basement. There, etched in the cement, were the names of all nine kids - Peggy, Patty, Connie, Joanne, Joe, Mary, Eileen, Bill and Bob, as well as Mom, Dad and Nanny - our maternal Grandmother.

Coincidentally, the house is currently up for sale. My brother, Bill and his wife, Connie and their four kids toured the house after the reunion and are actually considering buying it. Connie's entire family lives in Minnesota, so they would really like to live closer to them - and the rest of us would love nothing more than to be able to visit our old home in Hudson once and awhile. My idea was for us to buy it as a permanent location for the annual Van Kirk reunion! In any event, we are all storming Heaven in hopes that we can reclaim our family homestead one way or another.

H - is for the haven that you were for our family
U - is for the unbelievable warmth we felt from you
D - is for the delight you brought to our souls
S - is for the sunshine you brought to our lives
O - is for the one and only town for us
N - is for the never-ending memories we cherish in our hearts

On our way home, Keen and I stopped at a hospital in St. Paul to visit some dear family friends, George and Pidge Lindner. (They were married in Salina, Kansas, right before he went off to war.) Mr. and Mrs. Lindner were frequent dinner guests in our home and they were always our favorites because Mrs. Lindner used to bring us bags and bags of candy. Whenever we heard Mom and Dad were having a party, our first question would be, "Are the Lindners coming?" In a family of nine, sweets like that were a real rarity, so we would all be waiting on the edge of our seats for the Lindners to walk through the front door bearing treats for all. Mrs. Lindner always looked so beautiful. She was an impeccable dresser and her hair was perfectly coiffured. We thought she was an angel sent from Heaven. After we gave her a hug and thanked her over and over, we would scurry up the stairs to one of our rooms to divide up the spoils evenly.

Sadly, unbeknownst to us, this time we would be saying good bye to our dear friend. We knew Mr. Lindner was ill, but we didn't realize how ill until we arrived at the hospital. Mrs. Lindner led me back to his room in the intensive care unit. I grasped his hand as she kissed him on the forehead and said, "George, Joe Van Kirk's daughter is here to see you." Mr. Lindner struggled to open his eyes and look at me. Then he clenched my hand firmly and shook it up and down repeatedly, as if to say, "I see you, I know you and I thank you for coming." I said, "We all love you, Mr. Lindner."

Before we left, Keen asked if we could all hold hands in prayer. So Mrs. Lindner, her daughter-in-law and Keen and I all stood in the hallway of the hospital while Keen prayed that God would give Mrs. Lindner strength and Mr. Lindner peace in death until he was welcomed home into the arms of Jesus.

Mr. Lindner did pass away peacefully the very next night, just one week before their 60th wedding anniversary. We were all saddened by the news, especially my father, who wept over the loss of his lifelong friend. It was a week of joy and sadness; celebration and sorrow. It was a week to remember.

"Finally, all of you should be of one mind, full of sympathy toward each other, loving one another with tender hearts and humble minds."
~ I Peter 3:8 (NLT)

Blessings ~
Eileen

Be Still

"Be still, and know that I am God….."
Psalms 46:10

Sunset in Alma - Taken in our front yard by our daughter-in-law, Lisa

This past week I've been suffering from a severe case of "post-vacation blues" - so much so that I decided to write to Joann and tell her that I wouldn't be sending a Reflections column this week. But before I sent the note, I said a quick prayer asking God if He would give me something to share. After browsing through my computer files, I came across the following story that really touched my heart.
I pray that it will touch your heart, too.

Be Still with God
(Author Unknown)

All day long I had been very busy; picking up trash, cleaning bathrooms and scrubbing floors. My grown children were coming home for the weekend. I went grocery shopping and prepared for a barbecue supper, complete with ribs and chicken. I wanted everything to be perfect. Suddenly, it dawned on me that I was dog-tired. I simply couldn't work as long as I could when I was younger. "I've got to rest for a minute," I told my husband, Roy, as I collapsed into my favorite rocking chair. Music was playing, my dog and cat were chasing each other and the telephone rang.

A scripture from Psalm 46 popped into my mind. "Be still, and know that I am God." I realized that I hadn't spent much time in prayer that day. Was I too busy to even utter a simple word of thanks to God? Suddenly, the thought of my beautiful patio came to mind. I can be quiet out there, I thought. I longed for a few minutes alone with God. Roy and I had invested a great deal of time and work in the patio that spring. The flowers and hanging baskets were breathtaking. It was definitely a heavenly place of rest and tranquility. If I can't be still with God in that environment, I can't be still with Him anywhere, I thought. While Roy was talking on the telephone, I slipped out the backdoor and sat down on my favorite patio chair. I closed my eyes and began to pray, counting my many blessings. A bird flew by me, chirping and singing. It interrupted my thoughts. It landed on the bird feeder and began eating dinner as I watched. After a few minutes it flew away, singing another song. I closed my eyes again. A gust of wind blew, which caused my wind chimes to dance. They made a joyful sound, but again I lost my concentration on God. I squirmed and wiggled in my chair. I looked up toward the blue sky and saw the clouds moving slowly toward the horizon. The wind died down. My wind chimes finally became quiet.

Again, I bowed in prayer. "Honk, honk," I heard. I almost jumped out of my skin. A neighbor was driving down the street. He waved at me and smiled. I waved back, happy that he cared. I quickly tried once again to settle down, repeating the familiar verse in my mind. Be still and know that I am God. "I'm trying God. I really am," I whispered. "But You've got to help me here." The backdoor opened. My husband walked outside. "I love you," he said. "I was wondering where you were." I chuckled, as he came over and kissed me, then turned around and went back inside.

"Where's the quiet time?" I asked God. My heart fluttered. There was no pain, only a beat that interrupted me yet again. This is impossible, I thought. There's no time to be still and to know that God is with me. There's too much going on in the world and entirely too much activity all around me.

Then it suddenly dawned on me. God was speaking to me the entire time I was attempting to be still. I remembered the music playing as I'd begun my quiet time. He sent a gentle breeze and a sparrow to lighten my life with song. He sent a neighbor to let me know that I had a friend. He sent my sweetheart to offer sincere sentiments of love. He caused my heart to flutter to remind me of life.

While I was trying to count my blessings, God was busy multiplying them. I laughed to realize that the "interruptions" of my quiet time with God were special blessings He'd sent to show me He was with me the entire time.

"Let us know, let us press on to know the Lord; His going forth is sure as the dawn; He will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth."
~ Hosea 6:3 (RSV)

Blessings and peace ~

Eileen

Something More

“The Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden….And out of the ground the Lord God made every tree grow that is pleasant to the sight and good for food…..”

~ Genesis 2:8,9 (NKJV)

Since I’ll just be getting back from vacation when this article comes out, I’m going to send this off in advance and keep it short.

In my last column I wrote about who I am…. and who I’m not. Well, to continue with that theme, I would like to add that I am also not a gardener, a seamstress, a canner or an animal lover. Don’t get me wrong, I like animals – I just don’t want to own them. And I have great admiration for people like my mother-in-law who is a master seamstress and quilter, as well as a great gardener and canner. In fact, every time they come to see us we look forward to the box of canned tomatoes they bring along. It’s just not me, which used to leave me with a feeling of inadequacy…. but I’m over that now.

You’ve already read about my fiasco with using the wrong kind of weed spray on our entire back yard. I try to be helpful, but it always seems to backfire on me. I think the moral of the story is to find your strengths and know your weaknesses. Don’t frustrate yourself by trying to be like Aunt Janine or your neighbor, Suzy or your mother, father, brother or sister. Just be you. Like Rebecca Miller said – she is grateful for the talents God gave her and she doesn’t begrudge the fact that He didn’t choose to give her others. Isn’t it sad that many of us spend our time wishing we could be more like someone else, while they may be wishing they could be more like us? Part of being content includes being satisfied with oneself.

It reminds me of the lyrics of that song Sara Evans sings titled, “I Keep Looking.”

Well, the straight haired girls
They all want curls
And the brunettes wanna be blonde
It's your typical thing
You got ying - you want yang
It just goes on and on
They say, hey, it's only human
To never be satisfied
Well I guess that I'm as human as the next one

Oh, I keep looking
I keep looking for
I keep looking for something more
I always wonder what's on the other side
Of the number two door
Yeah, I keep looking
Looking for something more

Every spring Keen and I have great enthusiasm and high hopes for a beautiful garden. Keen diligently tills the garden and prepares the ground so we can plant our usual collection of vegetables. We start out with the best of intentions, but inevitably our garden ends up with lots of weeds, rotten tomatoes and zucchini squash the size of footballs.

Oddly enough, the two cherry tomato plants we placed as an afterthought by our backdoor always seem to do well. So recently I suggested to Keen that next year we might want to face the fact that we’re not gardeners and just go with the two tomato plants by the back door. Well, he’s not quite ready to throw in the towel and concede defeat yet, despite our dismal track record.

My new writer friend, LeNore Stumpf, wrote a great poem on this subject in her book of poetry titled “Wise and Otherwise.” With her permission, I’d like to share it with all of you.

Winner Take All
By LeNore Stumpf

Spring has come at last, I guess,
my garden is a muddy mess
and I'm quite willing to confess
I honestly could not care less.

Why fight the likes of grass and weeds
that choke out baby carrot seeds
and do some other heinous deeds,
concerned with only their own needs?

I've hoed and weeded, day and night.
I've battled bugs with all my might.
This spring I think the time is right
for me to just give up the fight.

This year I will not yearn for rain
or put myself through further pain;
enthusiasm I'll not feign,
the whole idea is insane.

No more gardens I'll be messing,
no grass or weeds I'll be suppressing,
I won't find bugs or worms distressing --
I give it to them with my blessing.

~ Eileen

Who I Am (and who I'm not)

“A friend loveth at all times….”
~ Proverbs 17:17 (KJV)

If I live to be a hundred
And never see the seven wonders
That'll be alright
If I don't make it to the big leagues
If I never win a Grammy
I'm gonna be just fine
'Cause I know exactly who I am

I am Rosemary's granddaughter
The spitting image of my father
And when the day is done
My momma's still my biggest fan
Sometimes I'm clueless and I'm clumsy
But I've got friends that love me
And they know just where I stand
It's all a part of me
And that's who I am

Lyrics to “Who I Am” ~ performed by Jessica Andrews

“This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.”
~ Shakespeare-Hamlet

Over the years, I have often contemplated the meaning of friendship and wondered whether I fit the criteria of what a good friend is or should be, in the traditional sense of the word. My sister’s article mentioned that I can go into a store and come out with a friend, and that’s true. I have made many new friends simply by striking up a conversation. It’s just that I wouldn’t want to have them all over for supper!

Webster defines a friend as “…one attached to another by affection or esteem; one that is not hostile.” In that regard, I guess I might qualify. I have many friends, both near and far, who are very dear to my heart. Yet, while most friends get together for lunch or coffee and talk on the phone regularly, for me it’s more of the exception, rather than the rule.

The problem is that I am an intensely private person, and that quality is not exactly conducive to meaningful, interactive relationships. Although I thoroughly enjoy visiting with people when I’m out and about and I love communicating through my writing, I am fiercely protective of my privacy when I’m at home. My home is a sacred haven of rest for me and my family.

I feel pretty certain that this is a source of disappointment many people in my life whom I consider to be a friend, but I just hope that they can accept me the way I am – idiosyncrasies and all.

I have had the same best friend since I was fifteen years old and I am privileged to have married my best friend and raise four sons with him. Keen has been my soul mate and confidante through all the changing seasons of our life. Consequently, if we have any free time at all in the midst of his hectic school schedule, we guard it jealousy and prefer to spend it together or with our family. To some people, that seems selfish. But I don’t think anyone should try to tell another person how to spend their free time – any more than they should tell them how to spend their money.

One Friend
performed by Dan Seals

I always thought you were the best
I guess I always will
I always felt that we were blessed
and I feel that way still
Sometimes we took the hard road
but we always saw it through
If I had only one friend left
I'd want it to be you

Sometimes the world was on our side
sometimes it wasn't fair
Sometimes it gave a helping hand
sometimes we didn't care
'Cause when we were together
it made the dream come true
If I had only one friend left
I'd want it to be you


Last month I took a day trip to the town of Barnes with two of my fellow writer friends, Dorothy Masters and Barbara Lerma, and we had lunch at a wonderful little café called Our Daily Bread. It is owned by Kayleen Drebes, another woman I became acquainted with after reading her poetry in the Topeka paper. Two of Dorothy’s friends, Tom Parker and Walt and LeNore Stumpf, joined us at the restaurant and we all enjoyed some delicious food, great conversation and a whole lot of laughter.

LeNore is a talented writer who has written several books. Tom is also a gifted writer who now shares his column with me via e-mail. His latest work was a heartwarming piece about his wife of thirty years, Lori. In that column, he included the following quote which seemed to tie in perfectly with my theme this week.

“This is the greatest gift: to know that someone sees you as you are and loves you anyway.”
~ Andrew Hudgins, in his prose poem “After the Lost War”

That is my hope – that those who I have been blessed to call friend, can see me as I am and love me anyway – despite the fact that I may not be as accessible as they would like.

I try to use my column as a vehicle to stay in touch with the people I care about and keep them up to date on the happenings of our life because otherwise it would be nearly impossible for me to communicate individually with everyone. And if I weren’t a bit of a loner, I wouldn’t have the time to reflect on my life and share those “reflections” with others.

Here’s a short poem I wrote a few weeks ago in an attempt to capture my feelings.

Who I Am
By Eileen Umbehr

I may not meet the expectations
Of everyone in my life
I may not win a big award
For best mother, friend or wife

But all I can do
Is what I can
And all I can be
Is who I am

So although you may not understand
Why I live my life as I do
Please try to accept me for who I am
And I will do the same for you

**********

I’d like to close with a poem titled “The Family Friend” written by Angie Forshee from Ozawkie. When I called to tell her how much I enjoyed her poem in the Kansas Plus section of The Topeka Capital-Journal, we talked as if we’d known each other our entire lives.

The Family Friend
By Angie Forshee

My mom introduced him
when I was just a kid
I knew of him,
but I didn’t know what he did.

I wanted to get to know him better,
this old family friend
I wanted so bad to call him,
but I didn’t know how or when

The years went by and we lost touch,
like old friends seem to do
But sometimes I would think of him,
when I was feeling blue

I started a life for myself
and wondered where and how he was
But never did I contact him,
there was always that excuse – because

I’m all grown up
and have a child of my own
I was ready for that step
So I invited him into my home

It took a while to contact him
because I didn’t know where to start
I felt we’d been separated for so long
and spent so many years apart

But after I made the call, I knew
he’d been there from the start
For you see, he was always
right there in my heart

I introduced him to my son
and now we visit him home once a week
I knew my life wasn’t complete
and he was the missing link

He’ll always be a part of Evan’s life
and the rest of mine
Now I know I didn’t have to make the call,
God was with me all the time.

Blessings to you, my friends ~
Eileen

P.S. The reason this came out early is because I'm getting a new computer and I have to give up my old one so that they can transfer all my information over to the new machine. After that, we'll be heading to Minnesota for a family reunion, so this will be my last column for a couple of weeks. I thank you for allowing me to express myself through this column, and I thank you all for your encouraging feedback. I'll talk to you in a couple of weeks. God bless ~ Eileen

Our Adventurer

“The light in the eyes [of him whose heart is joyful] rejoices the heart of others….”

~ Proverbs 15:30 (Amplified)

There's this love that is burning, deep in my soul
constantly yearning to get out of control, wanting to fly,
higher and higher; I can't abide, standing outside the fire

Standing outside the fire, standing outside the fire
Life is not tried it is merely survived
If you're standing outside the fire

“Standing Outside the Fire” ~ recorded by Garth Brooks

Last year I wrote a Reflections column about our third-born son, Keen II, but since I was just getting my feet wet, the article was short and didn’t go into very much detail. So today I’d like to write a more thorough birthday tribute to Keen.

The titles I chose for our other sons were: Jared – Our soldier; Josh – Our Entrepreneur and Kirk Van – Our Little Man. For Keen, I’ve chosen – Our Adventurer.

After reading through my journals from when Keen was growing up, I found several stories that illustrated his lifelong love of adventure – beginning at the tender age of two. At that time, our boys all shared one large bedroom. One morning Keener decided that his crib was too confining and somehow managed to do a cartwheel right over the railing of his crib!

Keen was always a little trooper. When he was only 2 ½ he would go sledding with his dad and brothers and haul his own plastic sled back up the hill all by himself. But he never complained a bit.

Here are several excerpts from the journal I kept for Keen:

February 14, 1987 (age 2 ½)
Keen is racing to boyhood – it just can’t get here soon enough for him. With two older brothers he wants to do everything he sees them do. He’s always used a cup with a lid on it, but now he wants to be big so he says, “No Keener cup, no Keener cup.” The other day he was standing by Josh’s two wheel bike saying, “Help me please, Daddy. Help me, pleeeease!”

**********

Keen is perpetual motion. He always wants to be on the go.
“Let’s go to shop and see Daddy, okay?”
“No, Keener, Daddy’s picking up trash.”
“Oh, rats!”

**********

Keener Bean – what can I say about him? He’s like that song from The Sound of Music. “How do you catch a wave upon the sand? How do you hold a moon beam in your hand?”

You don’t. That’s just it. Keen is uncontainable. He wants to go – be – live!

**********

February 16, 1988 (age 3 ½)
Today Keener said, “I know what I’m gonna be when I grow up. I’m gonna be a cop! I’m gonna have a gun and I’m gonna say, ‘Freeze!’”

**********

Last night at supper he finished eating his chicken leg and tossed it back onto the platter in the middle of the table. When it hit the platter he said, “It’s a three-pointer!” The boys said when he plays Nerf basketball with them and makes a basket he’ll say, “This guy can’t miss!” He really seems to enjoy sports.

**********

That certainly turned out to be the case. When Keen was about nine years old we enrolled him in a basketball camp at Washburn University. When they handed out awards on the last day Keen ended up with nine separate certificates. The coach made the comment, “What can we say? This kid just does it all.”

Keen really enjoyed the sport of basketball throughout high school, and he was good at it, too. But his true talent proved to be in the area of running. In his senior year in cross-country he was undefeated the entire season and ultimately won the State Cross-Country Championship.

A few years ago, Keen and his dad and brother all took scuba diving lessons together and took a couple of trips to Table Rock, Missouri. Keen went beyond the basic training course and earned two advanced level certifications, including rescue diver.

This past year has been one of particularly “high” excitement for our adventurer. Without telling his mom and dad (until it was too late for either of us to object), Keen enrolled in sky diving classes at K-State and went on a couple of jumps. Be still my heart! I couldn’t believe it! But he thoroughly enjoyed the thrilling experience. Thankfully, he’s decided not to make a lifelong hobby out of it; sort of one of those “been there, done that” things.

Keen’s latest attempt to satisfy his thirst for adventure has come in the form of a brand new motorcycle. (Okay, for all you motorcycle enthusiasts, it’s a Yamaha YZF R6 SS.) Keen works for the State in the computer division of the Department of Revenue and he decided to spend some of that hard earned money on something he’s always dreamed of owning. In fact, I was going through his box of memoirs the other day and discovered just how long he’s been dreaming of owning a motorcycle when I came across a list of “Letters to Santa” from Keen’s kindergarten class. Keen asked for “…new pajamas a new teddy bear to sleep with, and a new real motorcycle.” Well, Santa (and the bank) finally came through after all these years! When we saw the gray and black motorcycle with flames painted on the side we had to admit it looked like it was made for Keen.

Last Friday before Keen drove his new motorcycle for the first time from Topeka to Manhattan, he called to ask me to “shout out a prayer” for him. (Actually, I “shouted out” several prayers.) But that leads me to another aspect of Keen’s character – his faith in God. Ever since he was a little boy, he has talked about God and prayed to God. He would often say out of the blue, “Mom, don’t forget God and Jesus.”

When he was 3 ½ years old I hurt my back and neck in a minor car accident and he would say, “I pray for your back and shoulders last night.” Then he’d ask, “How is your back feeling today, Mommy? Is it feeling much better?” If I said yes then he would throw his arms around my neck and say, “Good – now I can give you a big bear hug!”

Keen always was and still is such a loving and loveable son. Here are a couple more excerpts from my journal that illustrate my point.

October 26, 1987 (Age 3)
This morning Keener said, “I wuv you, Mom. I really wuv you. You’re the greatest in the whole world. And daddy’s the greatest in the whole world. And God’s the greatest in the whole world.” (He repeated the part about God three times.)

Later he told me, “I’m growing up so big and I’m so tall!” Then he pointed to the ceiling and said, “But I won’t break your wall. I’ll be careful of your wall.”

**********

When Keener gets up in the morning he runs into our room and announces excitedly, “It’s Keener Beaner!” or “Heeeere’s Keener!” Lately he’s been telling Daddy, “I love you a hundred pounds.”

This morning I’m making chocolate chip cookies for a PTO meeting and I gave Keener one of the beaters.

“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome. I like a boy with nice manners.”
“Thank you, Mommy.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Mom, you have nice manners.”

A couple of weeks ago I was zipping his coat before we went to story time at the library and he said, “You’re a real sweety, Mom.”

December 2, 1988 (Age 4)
Keen is so full of love. Every morning when I open the door to my room, he comes bursting in and says, “Mommy, Mommy! I love my Mommy!” Then he gives me a huge bear hug and says, “Good morning, baby!”

Tonight out of the blue he came running over to me and hugged my tummy and said, “Oh, I love my baby.” He said he hopes it’s a “brother baby.”

Keen is in a definite “I love you” stage. It’s only 9:30 in the morning and I’ll bet he’s already said it 10-15 times. Yesterday he came up to me and said, “You’re so nice to me, Eileen.”

Keen has become a song writer of late, too. He has the sweetest little song that he sings in the sweetest little voice. It goes, “I love Mommy, she’s so great. So, so great – so, so great. I love her so much…..Uh-huh. I love her. Why? Because I love her because the baby’s in her tummy.” And on and on it goes.

**********

This morning I was sitting on the couch and he put his face down by my tummy and said, “Good morning baby. I love you. I can’t wait till you’re done. You’re great baby. I’ll be happy with either one, okay? I love you.” It’s so sweet.

When Keener gets ready for preschool sometimes he’ll stand on the porch and wait for the van to pick him up. Then he’ll talk to me through the screen door. Today he said: “I love you. Can you hear me, Mom? I love you so much with my heart.”

**********

Yes, Keen, I hear you loud and clear. You have always been such a great source of joy and love for our family and we thank God for blessing us with you!

I’d like to close this birthday tribute by sharing the words from the Hallmark card I bought for Keen:

Son, there are so many things I want for you – so many wishes in my heart as I watch you grow into your own life…I wish you a world of adventure and experience ~ and also the serenity that comes from listening to your inner voice as the world rushes around you…

I wish you the strength to face challenges with confidence – along with the wisdom to choose your battles carefully…I wish you the satisfaction of seeing your goals achieved and also the true contentment that is born of simple things ~ work well done, friends well-loved, moments caught and cherished.

And my greatest wish is that you will always remember how much you are loved – for you are a good and caring person…a man I am proud to have for a son.”

Happy 20th Birthday, Keen ~ we love you!

Live and Learn

"For by grace given to me I warn every one among you not to estimate and think of himself more highly than he ought - not to have an exaggerated opinion of his own importance; but to rate his ability with sober judgment …” ~ Romans 12:3 (Amplified)

Well it's a strange old game, you learn it slow
One step forward and it's back you go
You're standing on the throttle
You're standing on the brake
In the groove – ‘til you make a mistake
Sometimes you're the windshield, and sometimes you're the bug…

“The Bug” ~ recorded by Mary Chapin Carpenter

Have you ever had one of those days? Well, I’ve had one of those weeks. Last Tuesday I planned to run several errands in Manhattan, but when I arrived in town, I discovered that I’d forgotten my wallet. I had changed purses that day and unfortunately, my wallet didn’t make the transfer. I did find enough cash in the glove compartment to meet a friend for coffee, however. But then I somehow managed to spill it all over myself. Ugh!

“I’m myself. I can stick my foot in my mouth. I can trip and fall. I can mess up in front of the whole world and be honest. Instead of trying to cover everything up.”
~Jessica Simpson

A few days later I noticed a strange phenomenon in our back yard – brown spots were popping up all over. I eventually realized that I had used the wrong weed spray on our grass. So instead of having a dandelion-free lawn, we now have a polka dotted lawn with dead spots scattered throughout. Lord only knows how many years we’ll have to look at the results of that little oversight.

“People who seem most at home with themselves are not rocked by their faux pas. They are able to move past their flub-ups without absorbing them into their sense of worth.”

~ Patsy Clairmont, Women of Faith

Well, I’m not quite there yet, but I’m working on it. I think we have to learn not to take ourselves too seriously, because none of us makes it through life without experiencing our own share of personal humiliations and ego busters. It’s always better to be honest and real about our mistakes rather than pretending that we never make any. A friend of mine gave me a copy of a poem titled To a Louse by Robert Burns (1786). It’s about a pretentious woman who walks into church, not knowing that there is a louse in her bonnet!

The English version of the final paragraph reads:

Oh, that God would give us the very smallest of gifts
To be able to see ourselves as others see us
It would save us from many mistakes and foolish thoughts
We would change the way we look and gesture
and how and what we apply our time and attention

The Bible warns that pride comes before a fall, so it would do us well to keep a close watch on that particular area of our lives.

Anyway, my woesome (that’s the opposite of awesome) week also included a not-so-friendly discussion between me and my husband after I was informed that my previous rule about Kirk not talking on the phone after 9:00 p.m. on school nights had not only been altered while I was away in Nevada, it had been eliminated all together!

Yes, as much as I hate to burst my own bubble, I must admit that life at the Umbehr house is not always filled with love letters, laughter, cute kid stories and Bible verses. We are a real family with our share of ups and downs, just like everybody else. But thank God, there are far more “ups” than “downs.”

To top the week off, while I was mowing our lawn on Saturday morning, I got something in my eye that caused me extreme pain every time I blinked. My optometrist, Dr. Janasek (who had just finished mowing his own lawn), graciously agreed to meet me at his office. Lo and behold, he found the tiniest black speck under my eyelid. It turned out to be a weed seed, of all things. How could such a minuscule dot no bigger than the end of a pin cause such extreme discomfort?

But I’m happy to report that my less-than-idyllic week ended on a much more positive note. Saturday night Keen and I enjoyed a special evening on our covered porch, listening to the radio and dancing to our favorite songs in the cool night air. It was simply magical. Then on Sunday morning we both awoke early and decided to take a long walk down our country road. We arrived at the top of a hill just as the sun was rising, so we sat on a stone fence and watched that beautiful orange ball emerge above the Flint Hills – thankful for all the blessings in our lives.

It’s a great day to be alive
I know the sun's still shinin' when I close my eyes
There's some hard times in the neighborhood
But why can't every day be just this good?

“It’s a Great Day to be Alive” ~ recorded by Travis Tritt

I’ve Learned…...
By Andy Rooney

I’ve learned….that the best classroom in the world is at the feet of an elderly person.

I've learned.... that when your newly born grandchild holds your little finger in his little fist, that you're hooked for life.

I've learned.... that having a child fall asleep in your arms is one of the most peaceful feelings in the world.

I've learned.... that I wish I could have told my Mom that I love her one more time before she passed away.

I've learned.... that when you're in love, it shows.

I've learned.... that just one person saying to me, "You've made my day!" makes my day.

I've learned.... that being kind is more important than being right.

I've learned.... that you should never say no to a gift from a child.

I've learned.... that I can always pray for someone when I don't have the strength to help him in some other way.

I've learned.... that no matter how serious your life requires you to be, everyone needs a friend to act goofy with.

I've learned.... that sometimes all a person needs is a hand to hold and a heart to understand.

I've learned.... that we should be glad God doesn't give us everything we ask for.

I've learned.... that money doesn't buy class or happiness.

I've learned.... that it's those small daily happenings that make life so spectacular.

I've learned.... that under everyone's hard shell is someone who wants to be appreciated and loved.

I've learned.... that the Lord didn't do it all in one day. What makes me think I can?

I've learned.... that to ignore the facts does not change the facts.

I've learned.... that when you plan to get even with someone, you are only letting that person continue to hurt you.

I've learned.... that love, not time, heals all wounds.
I've learned.... that the easiest way for me to grow as a person is to surround myself with people smarter than I am.

I've learned.... that everyone you meet deserves to be greeted with a smile.

I've learned.... that no one is perfect… until you fall in love with them.

I've learned.... that life is tough, but I'm tougher.

I've learned.... that when you harbor bitterness, happiness will dock elsewhere.

I've learned.... that a smile is an inexpensive way to improve your looks.

I've learned.... that I can't choose how I feel, but I can choose what I do about it.

I've learned.... that it is best to give advice in only two circumstances; when it is requested and when it is a life-threatening situation.

I've learned.... that everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you're climbing it.

I've learned.... that one should keep his words both soft and tender, because tomorrow he may have to eat them.

My Birthday Surprise

(Note: This week when I opened a copy of The Prairie Post I got the surprise of my life. There, in big bold print, was a headline which read: Family Turns Table on Reflections Columnist, Eileen Umbehr, along with a big picture of me! My sister Mary, with the help of my other siblings, decided to write a birthday tribute to me! I was completely caught off guard. As someone who believes that words spoken from the heart are one of life's greatest gifts, I'd like to thank Mary and all my family for my birthday surprise and for all the love expressed in these words. Now the pressure is on to live up to them!)

Dear Reflections Readers,

This article is not written by Eileen Umbehr, but for Eileen Umbehr. She has blessed many of her family and friends with heart warming tributes on their birthdays. We thought she should have a turn.

“As each of you has received a gift (a particular spiritual talent, a gracious divine endowment), employ it for one another as [befits] good trustees of God’s many-sided grace [faithful stewards of the extremely diverse powers and gifts granted to Christians by unmerited favor]."
I Peter 4:10 (Amp)

Eileen is the youngest girl in our family of nine children, and number seven in line. Maybe because she was always small, she had to learn to hold her own. She was an ‘A’ student, and athlete, matched wits with our older brother (no small feat), and for as long as any of us can remember – a writer. She would write to our Grandmother, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins. She would write letters, thoughts, prayers, poems. She was – and is – everyone’s cheerleader, literally and figuratively. She organized teams, games, skits and sing-a-longs. She was the “go – to gal”. She would practice her cheers on the lawn for hours. She made the High School squad the year we moved to Singapore. Eileen was so sad. Little did she know that she would meet the love of her life, Keen. Now, she is our cheerleader. Eileen is the best listener, is a passionate supporter of those she loves and causes she believes in. She is the first person we want to call when something happens. She is always there for us. Nothing is too much trouble when someone is in need. She recently volunteered in the women’s prison counseling pregnant inmates. She had nothing but love and acceptance for them – never judgment.

Eileen is a person who just has to give – her time, her talents, her energy. Ninety percent of the time, no one even knows that she did it. She doesn’t want credit. She just wants to bring the love of God to everyone around her. Her son Josh says “Yeah –my Mom can go into a store and come out with a friend – and a good one!”

Eileen’s birthday is July 3rd. Our Mom used to say that she stole the fireworks from the 4th of July. Considering her personality – the saying sure seems to fit. The meaning of her name is ‘Light’ – and that is just what she brings. Eileen is full of laughter, joy and love. She has more life in her than three people put together! She has an uncanny ability to handle many challenging projects at once – and keep all the balls in the air! When she was here in Nevada writing her book, I introduced her as “the ambitious one”. She told me that her dream her whole life was to be a wife and mother. She has achieved that goal beautifully having married the most incredible man I’ve ever met, and raising four amazing gentle men. She now has two daughters and two grandsons to continue the dream.

On a personal note, Eileen came to Nevada when I was expecting twins. Even though I was two weeks over due, the doctor was reluctant to induce me due to implications it may have on him. Because of her strength, my twins were born healthy. My son was born with a knot in his cord, and would have died if he was not delivered at that time. Mind you, Eileen had her four children at home, the youngest a two year old who celebrated his birthday during her stay. Recently, Eileen essentially put her life on hold to help me through the painful process of extricating myself from a twenty-five year abusive marriage. She never tired of what must have been an excruciating process of false hopes, false starts and what Dr. Laura calls ‘stupid forgiveness’. She knew when I needed her and she knew when I didn’t. There is great power in that.

Eileen is truly one in twenty million. There is none quite like her. We feel blessed beyond measure to have her in our lives. I wish you the same. If you ever meet her, you will come away with a new friend – and a good one!

“The measure of love is to love without measure.” ~St. Augustine

Happy Birthday, Sis! We love you!

God Bless ~

Mary

A Risk Worth Taking

“I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing to my God while I have being. May my meditation be pleasing to Him, for I rejoice in the Lord.”

~ Psalms 104:33,34 (RSV)

"The act of writing gives us a chance to reflect in private before exposing our heart."
~ David Lowenherz, author of The 50 Greatest Love Letters of All Time

“But I’m just self-styled from the country
Writing of that which around me I find,
And whatever comes from my heart that day,
Or inspirations that come to my mind.”
~ Excerpt from poem written by Irene Toburen, Waterville

Exactly one year ago this week, The Prairie Post published my first Reflections column on July 3, which just happened to be my 45th birthday. It has been such a gift to be able to share my life with all of you and to express “whatever comes from my heart that day.”

“A writer’s life does not begin when they put pen to paper, but with a heartfelt belief that their life is a story that must somehow find its way to be told.”
~ Laura Ingalls Wilder

That is so true. I love writing and have always felt compelled to record the events of our lives. Keen jokingly refers to me as a “serial archivist.” But if I hadn’t taken the time to document all those happenings, then I never could have written a book of memories for each of our boys, or 800 pages of journal entries about the personal side of our extended legal battle, or 425 pages of my book about our Supreme Court case.

Writing is what know, what I do and what I love.

“A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write, if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself. What a man can be, he must be.”~ Abraham Maslow

The Nature of the Poet
By Eileen Umbehr

Ever since I was a little girl
I've enjoyed putting words to rhyme
Whenever someone's birthday came ‘round,
I'd kick out a poem in no time.

Poems give me an outlet,
To express my thoughts and feelings,
Just painting a picture with words,
Seems to bring about some sort of healing.

The titles tell our life story -
Our hopes, our fears, our dreams;
In the Still of the Night, Standing Tall,
Roots and Wings and He Who Believes.

Some may laugh and others sneer,
At my apparent notion,
To create a poem or a verse,
that expresses my emotion.

I realize that it’s always a risk,
To let others see inside your soul;
But that’s a chance I’m willing to take,
Though their reactions I cannot control.

Because I have no other choice
What people think, I cannot care
For it's the nature of the poet
To want and need to share.

In Eric Maisel’s book titled Deep Writing, he gives a check list of thirteen requirements for those who desire to write deeply. Number seven on the list is: “I will enjoy the dangers of writing.” He states:

“Why does writing feel so dangerous? Because our ego is on the line each time we commit words to paper. Our self-image is on the line. We are magnificent in criticizing others, but put a few words on the page and everyone gets to criticize us back. Packs of wild dogs get to eat our words and spit them back at us. Am I overstating the case? I don’t think so. Writing feels exactly this dangerous to most people.”

“Making a decision to write was a lot like deciding to jump into a frozen lake.”~ Maya Angelou, poet

Yes, writing is definitely a risk – there’s no question about that. But I’ve decided that it’s a risk worth taking.

Joann A. Dockweiler of Nortonville, Kansas, expressed a similar sentiment in this poem which appeared in the Kansas Plus section of The Topeka Capital-Journal.

Alone
By Joann A. Dockweiler

It’s lonely, being of poetic mind,
when no one seems to care
about your feelings, thoughts and prayer;
when they only shrug and casually say,
“Oh, you won a prize for a poem today,”
and that was all they did say,
not wanting to hear what comes from your soul.

We poets have two worlds that we live in,
the outside and the one within.
Sometimes we are made fun of,
being this way, “odd, different,”
I have heard people say.

I pay no mind, I have my goal,
to be a blessing to my soul,
so when I put pen to paper in this way,
it’s not for glory or for fame,
but to express to others
that I know they feel the same.

*****************

“A writer lives, at best, in a state of astonishment. Beneath any feeling he has of the good or evil of the world lies a deeper one of wonder at it all. To transmit that feeling, he writes.”
~ William Sansom, author

Yet, as much as I enjoy writing, at times it has been a challenge to produce a column each and every week. But the thought of not writing is simply unbearable. Grace Paley once said: “You become a writer because you need to become a writer – nothing else.” I need to write. There’s just something in the way God fashioned me that compels me to share my innermost feelings through any means available and with anyone who will listen.

A Czech poet by the name of Jaroslav Deifert put it this way: “If an ordinary person is silent, it may be a tactical maneuver. If a writer is silent, he is lying.”
I cannot be silent.

In my very first Reflections column, I wrote about the sheer panic I felt after Joann Kahnt agreed to publish my column in The Prairie Post. I wondered what in the world I was thinking because I didn’t have a clue what I would write about from week to week! Now here I am, one year later.
Here’s an excerpt from that first column dated July 3, 2003 – followed by a poem I recently wrote.

“A woman preacher I listen to named Joyce Meyer talks about how we should ‘do it afraid.’ She says that when God tell us to ‘fear not’…He doesn’t mean that we should never feel fear, but rather that we shouldn’t let fear keep us from doing what we want to do. I’m sure David wasn’t fearless when he faced Goliath, but he didn’t let that stop him.

With that in mind, I’d like to embark on this journey despite the fear that I feel inside. I’d also like to thank Joann Kahnt, and you, the readers, for giving me the privilege.”

Unknown reader
By Eileen Umbehr

Unknown reader
Who are you?

You who read my deepest contemplations
All my joys and sorrows
You know me, but I don’t know you.

No matter.

I don’t have to meet you to know
You laugh
You cry
You bleed

Just like me.

Unknown reader.

You are my friend.

Slowing the Pace

“A calm and undisturbed mind and heart are the life and health of the body…”

~ Proverbs 14:30

I'm in a hurry to get things done
Oh I rush and rush until life's no fun
All I really gotta do is live and die
But I'm in a hurry and don't know why

“I’m in a Hurry” ~ recorded by Alabama

Time got away from me this week and I’m running around like a chicken with my head cut off. With my deadline looming less than twenty-four hours away it seemed appropriate for me to share some thoughts on slowing the pace of our life. I realize that’s not an original theme (as if there’s any such thing), but I also realize it’s something we all seem to struggle with, regardless of our age or occupation.

Case in point. Today I received a letter from a friend of mine who is 82 years old. She wrote in part: “I’m sorry if this must be short – at this time of life I’m inundated, swamped or whatever you want to call it with interests, obligations, invitations, aches and pains – so much to do – so little time!”

The continual challenge for me is trying to decipher the difference between the “good” thing to do and the “right” thing to do. Just because an activity is noble, worthy and/or fun, doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s the best investment of my time. We only have so many hours in the day and most of us have a limited reservoir of energy, so we have to choose our priorities wisely.

When I was in Nevada, I made my book my priority. Consequently, I nearly completed my rough draft – all 425 pages of it – something I’ve been unable to accomplish in the past six years. Since I’ve been home, however, my priorities have shifted and my book has been placed on the back burner once again. So I’ve decided to wait until the students in my family return to the routine of school before I attempt to complete my book project.

Here’s a great quote along these lines. It comes from Philip Humbert, Ph.D.

“Resolve this week to maximize the quality of your life, rather than the quantity of items on your to-do list! Resolve to enjoy every conversation, and to eliminate at least one unnecessary pressure. Say ‘no’ to a few requests; politely decline a couple of invitations. Smell the roses. Notice the sunrise. Feel the grass under your feet. Slow down! Slow down enough to enrich the quality of your life.”

Many years ago, my father gave me a copy of the following poem that he found amongst my mother’s personal things after she passed away.

Take Time
Author Unknown

Take time to THINK…
It is the source of power
Take time to PLAY…
It is the secret of perpetual youth
Take time to READ….
It is the fountain of wisdom
Take time to PRAY…
It is the greatest power on earth
Take time to LOVE and BE LOVED….
It is a God-given privilege
Take time to be FRIENDLY…
It is the road to happiness
Take time to LAUGH…
It is the music of the soul
Take time to GIVE…
It is too short a day to be selfish
Take time to WORK…
It is the price of success
Take time to DO CHARITY…
It is the key to fulfillment

From the time my husband, Keen, was in the seventh grade until he graduated from high school, he spent every summer working with his cousin Jack on the farm his Uncle Keen and Aunt Helen owned near Alma. The hours were long – sunup to sundown – and the work was hard, but Keen so enjoyed the time he spent on the farm.

Several years ago – on August 26, 1991 to be exact – Keen decided to attempt a writing exercise that included some of those cherished memories. This is the result.

Saturday Freedom
By Keen A. Umbehr

Coming back to the farm is an exhilarating feeling of
Saturday freedom. Hiding away from the masses of humanity
becomes a splendid, mind whirling rush. Exploring the
origins of a spring creek becomes my sole purpose. Hearing
the immense quietness astounds me. Smelling frost on God's
forest fills my nostrils as sweet perfume. My mistress
becomes the natural nature of the wild. Humanity is
absent, the wild is free. Wilderness is evolving at its own pace.

I sing out for the trees to hear and I receive a
glorious applause by the rushing of their leaves. A
pristine stream flows by; streaks of silver flash as
minnows bask in the morning sun. Fall leaves paint the
ground like a legion of artists could not. Birds sing
forth like an orchestra. Sunshine, oh glorious sunshine,
blesses everything in it's path.

I am impressed by the smallness of my concerns. I lay
down by the creek...the sound of riffles gently call me to
rest. I shut my eyes...my thoughts slow...sensations dull.

Sweet peace softly enters in.

***********

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass on a summer day listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is hardly a waste of time.”
~ Sir J. Lubbock

***********

Finally, I’d like to share one of my favorite poems. The author is unknown.

Slow Dance
Author unkown

Have you ever watched kids
on a merry-go-round
Or listened to the rain
slapping on the ground?

Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight
Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?

You’d better slow down
Don't dance so fast
Time is short
The music won't last

Do you run through each day on the fly
When you ask "How are you?"
do you hear the reply?

When the day is done
do you lie in your bed
With the next hundred chores
running through your head?

You'd better slow down
Don't dance so fast
Time is short
The music won't last.

Ever told your child,
We'll do it tomorrow
And in your haste, not seen his sorrow?

Ever lost touch,
Let a good friendship die
'Cause you never had time
to call and say "Hi"?

You'd better slow down
Don't dance so fast
Time is short
The music won't last.

When you run so fast to get somewhere
You miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day,
It's like an unopened gift...
Thrown away...

Life's not a race.
Do take it slower
Hear the music
Before the song is over.

“My desire is to have you free from all anxiety and distressing care.”

~ I Corinthians 7:32

A “before and after” shot taken in 1980 by our former neighbor, Carmen Bloomfield

The Next Generation

“And He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children and the hearts of the children to their fathers…..”

Malachi 4:6 (RSV)

I used to love to walk behind my Daddy
As he plowed our garden every spring
My little bare feet in the dirt would make me happy
As he talked about what harvest time would bring

He was sowin' love...for the family
He was sowin' love...he took a little extra time
Looking forward to a bountiful harvest
Like a good father does...he was sowin' love

“Sowin’ Love” ~ recorded by Paul Overstreet

Recently I came across this excerpt from one of my journals that seemed fitting to share this Father’s Day. The date was October 31, 1988.

Sunday afternoon Keen was tired and wanted to take a nap but he said he’d been feeling like Jared needed some special time to be with just him. So after lunch, Josh and Keener went down for naps and Keen & Jared drove out to the land Keen’s folks own. They had such a fun time together. They shot the gun, played hide & seek and even had a dry cow pie fight. What a day! Jared thanked Keen over and over for taking him out.

Then when they got home Keen orchestrated the carving of the pumpkins. We had 2 big ones and 4 little ones. Keen carved a question mark in the littlest pumpkin for the baby on the way. It looked so cute all lit up at the end of the line.

I wanted to record the activities of this weekend partly to remember what a great father Keen has been. He’s so devoted to meeting the needs of every person in the family. I think he’s the greatest. He’s a super Dad and a super husband.

*************************

Our boys were very blessed to have a father who gave them 100% when they were growing up. Even though he was always physically drained after hauling trash, he still took time to wrestle and play with them. On the weekends, he would try to do something special like take them fishing, roller skating, or to the park or a movie. Their all time favorite summertime activity was jumping into the creek from a rope swing.

Now Keen is continuing the tradition by being a wonderful grandfather to the next generation of Umbehr boys – our two grandsons, Asher William and Gabriel Michael. Asher and Gabe spent six days with us last week, along with our daughter-in-law Erin, who was on a break from nursing school. Unfortunately, Jared wasn’t able to join us because he’s currently attending radio communications school at the naval base in Virginia Beach.

When the boys arrived, the first thing they noticed was the 8 x 10 picture of their family hanging on our living room wall. Asher, who is 4 ½, proceeded to identify everyone in the picture. He said, “That’s my Daddy….he’s bald.” When I told Jared about it he said Asher made it sound as if being bald was his latest and greatest accomplishment. “He’s been bald for about two years now; we’re very proud of him.” Later on when Asher saw his dad’s high school graduation picture he said, “That’s my Daddy with hair on!”

Asher and Gabe share many of the same facial features, but that’s where the similarities end. While Asher is somewhat finicky when it comes to eating (he even told me he was “allergic” to several items on a buffet line), Gabe will eat anything you put in front of him. Consequently, Asher is more lean and Gabe looks like a little football player. Their mannerisms are like night and day, too. Asher is docile, easy going and soft spoken –except when you ask him to repeat something (“I said…!”). Gabe, on the other hand, is a little firecracker who only has one gear – full speed ahead! He’s also very curious and knows no fear – which can be a dangerous combination for a twenty-month old who’s going on twenty. I get the feeling that Gabe just wishes everyone would recognize his vast capabilities and let him rule the world!

The two of them together remind me so much of Jared & Josh when they were little – two peas in a pod. Of course they have their squabbles, like all siblings, but most of the time they are very loving and considerate toward each other. One time Gabe was hugging Asher around the neck for so long that I had to ask Erin if it was a hug or a choke hold!

It’s been a long time since we’ve had little ones running around the house and I must admit to feeling a little rusty. It’s a bit of a shock to the system to return to the hectic days of diaper changes, bath time, spilled milk and toys scattered throughout the house. But we had lots of help from the whole family and everyone enjoyed making the most of the time we had with them. On Friday we all piled in the Durango and headed for Gage Park to swim in the pool and ride the carousel.

I honestly don’t know how Erin juggles the demands of school and being both mommy and daddy while Jared is in the Navy, but she’s doing a great job. She’s earning a 3.9 in nursing school and a 4.0 in parenting and raising two happy, well-adjusted little boys.

I’d like to close by sharing this poem my mom sent me when my kids were small.

The Image
Author Unknown

There are little eyes upon you
And they’re watching night and day
There are little ears that quickly
Take in every word you say

There are little hands all eager
To do anything you do
And the little boy who’s dreaming
Of the day he’ll be like you

You’re the little fellow’s idol
You’re the wisest of the wise
In his little mind about you
No suspicions ever rise

He believes in you devoutly
Holds what you say and do
He will say and do in your way
When he’s grown-up like you

There’s a wide-eyed little fellow
Who believes you’re always right
And his ears are always open
And he watches day and night

You are setting an example
Everyday in all you do
For the little boy who’s waiting
To grow up and be like you.

Grandpa Keen with Asher and Gabe

Picture of Contentment

“Now godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. And having food and clothing, with these we shall be content.”

~ I Timothy 6:6-8 (NKJV)

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera…
what will be, will be

“Que Sera, Sera” ~ performed by Doris Day

A few weeks ago I received the nicest letter from a woman by the name of Rebecca Miller of Council Grove. (Rebecca writes the Wilsey news for The Council Grove Republican.) She wanted to let me know that she had been getting acquainted with me by reading my column in The Prairie Post. “It’s my opinion that you are a talented writer, and I enjoy reading what you write. Keep on writing.”

Her letter was a great source of encouragement to me, but nothing could compare with the joy of meeting Rebecca and visiting with her face to face. Coincidentally, she lives right across the street from The Cottage House where Keen and I went to celebrate our 26th anniversary. Although I only spent an hour with Rebecca, she made a very strong impression on me.

Rebecca Miller was born in November, 1919 at her grandparents’ home southwest of White City, Kansas. She spent the first 50 years of her life on farms around Wilsey, raising cattle, hogs and chickens and tending her garden. The next 30 years she lived in the town of Wilsey. After her house burned down several years ago, Rebecca moved to an apartment in Council Grove. She never complained about the fire, instead, she chose to maintain a positive outlook. “Maybe it turned out for the best for me to move into Council Grove,” she stated.

Rebecca loves her apartment and all her neighbors. “Nobody goes by Mr. or Mrs. here,” she explained. “We all just go by our first names.” I’m sure her neighbors love her, too. She’s known as “The Cookie Lady” because of the cookies and treats she bakes for the other residents and mail carriers. She gave me some of her delicious applesauce cookies when I visited.

In the short time I spent with Rebecca, I learned that she has some very strong opinions. She never married (“I don’t feel sorry for myself one little bit”), and she stated very plainly that she doesn’t want to be called a spinster. “You can call me an old maid, but don’t call me a spinster!” she explained. I told her that I wouldn’t think of calling her either one! Rebecca also dislikes the title “Ms.” She prefers to be addressed by her first name or by Miss Miller. “When I get free address labels that say Ms. Rebecca Miller, I just use my other ones. I have plenty of labels so I don’t need to use them.”

Rebecca has an ailment which prevents her from standing upright. She calls it “the Harmon stoop” since several members of her family were inflicted with it, too. But she doesn’t let it bother her or hold her back. Instead, she talks about how grateful she is that she doesn’t suffer from arthritis and how blessed she is to have perfect eyesight, without the need for glasses. With Rebecca, it seems the glass is always half full.

Rebecca proudly told me all about her sister, Jane Dixon, who also lives in Council Grove and is 17 years her junior. “She’s so good to me,” she said. “She takes me to the grocery store and I just hand her my list. She’s much taller than I ever was so she can reach the items on the shelf. Then she carries them to my apartment for me. All I do is push the cart and write the check.”

When Rebecca was in high school, she wanted to learn how to play the violin in the worst way. But times were tough and her family couldn’t afford to pay $12.50 for a violin. Then one day she overheard a boy at school talking about how he sold his violin to another girl, but she had never paid him. Rebecca asked the boy how much he was selling it for and he told her $5.00. Somehow her family managed to scrape together enough money to buy the violin. “The music teacher wasn’t very happy with me for buying the violin away from the other girl, because she had more musical talent than I did,” Rebecca said. “But she bought another violin later, so everything worked out fine.”

Rebecca remarked that God didn’t give her the talent to sing or play music by ear, but thankfully He gave her the talent to read music and play the violin. “The talents I don’t have make me more understanding of others who can’t do certain things, and the talents I do have make me grateful for the gifts God did give me,” she said.

When I asked Rebecca if she would play a tune for me, she agreed and proceeded to play a beautiful rendition of Amazing Grace. She enjoys playing for her church in Wilsey where she taught Sunday school for many years. But I was very surprised to learn that Rebecca is still using the same violin her parents bought for her so many years ago for $5.00. Now that’s a picture of contentment!

Someone once said that joy, like sorrow, is infectious. Spending an hour with Rebecca Miller would brighten anyone’s day.

May there always be work for your hands to do;
May your purse always hold a coin or two;
May the sun always shine on your windowpane;
May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain;
May the hand of a friend always be near you;
May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.

~ An Irish friendship wish