Follow your Dreams

“For a dream comes with much business and painful effort….”
~ Ecclesiastes 5:3 (Amplified)

Climb every mountain
Forge every stream
Follow every rainbow
Till you find your dream
~ The Sound of Music

I guess you could say that I’m a dreamer – but that’s only because I believe dreams really do come true. My dream is to write a book. There. I said it. But I’ll go into that more in a future article.

Before Keen and I got married, we attended some pre-marriage counseling classes through the church. After we filled out several questionnaires, they analyzed our answers and concluded that we were very compatible. (Whew!) They did find one area of concern, however. They said that we seemed to look at life through “rosy-colored glasses.” Later we joked, “Well, they sure beat those dark green ones!” Come to think of it, those rosy-colored glasses have helped us through some pretty bleak moments in our life.

When Abraham told his wife that God spoke to him and said that she would bear a son in her old age, Sarah laughed. “And the Lord asked Abraham, Why did Sarah laugh, saying, Shall I really bear a child, when I am so old?” (Gen. 18:13) When Joseph told his brothers about his dream that depicted them bowing down to him one day, they mocked him. “Behold, the dreamer cometh!” they chanted. (Gen. 37:19) Martin Luther King had a dream – one that seemed very far from reality at the time. But all of these dreams eventually came true. So I say, let ‘em laugh!

Recently I read a book by Mark Rutland simply titled, Dream. He writes, “Remember this: No one will ever be as excited about your dream as you are. Oh, encouragers may come. Pray so. Some may even be helpful, generous, magnificently generous, but they can never feel what you feel. No one can ever know the inner exhilaration, the surge of spiritual energy, the utter delight in your soul, for it is, after all, your dream and your soul.”

The author also shared a story about when he was in the 5th grade at a new school and how once a month his teacher would have a “dream day” when each child in the class was asked to share their personal dreams. It could be anything, but they had to say something. And if anyone laughed at another person’s dream, they would have to leave the room. One by one the students shared their dreams for their future. “An astronaut,” one said. “A movie star,” said another. Each time a student shared their dream, the teacher would offer words of encouragement. She talked about how one day she just knew she would hear about them on the news or see their name in lights. She talked about how proud she would be to be able to say that she was their teacher. When Mark Rutland’s turn came around, from somewhere deep inside he heard himself say, “I want to write books.” He was only 10 years old at the time, but his heart already knew that he was born to write. (By the way, he just completed his ninth book.)

We must dare to dream, as the saying goes. But it’s not enough just to dream – we have to take steps toward making our dream a reality. The dream is only the beginning – the very first step. Then the real work begins. We have to be determined not to let anyone or anything stand in our way.

My husband spent nearly 18 years on the back end of a trash truck. But he had a dream that one day he could go back to college to earn his law degree. During the time he was a trash man, he worked diligently to provide his customers with the best possible service. But his frequent prayer was that one day God would allow him to “…use his mind, instead of his back.”

In the fall of 1998, Keen was a guest on The Jim Cates show. Jim asked Keen if he ever considered going to law school. His response was: “Actually, Jim, it’s been a personal dream of mine. But I don’t know if I’ve got what it takes to do it. I have great admiration for those who do, though.” Little did he know that just a few months later we would get the opportunity to sell our trash company, making it possible for him to enroll at K-State for the spring semester. Yes, by the grace of God, that dream is becoming a reality – but not without “much business and painful effort.”

In his book titled, Simple Truths, author Kent Nerburn devotes a chapter to the subject of work. Nerburn encourages the reader to think of work as a vocation, which comes from the Latin word for calling – something that calls to you, that gives voice to who you are and what you want to say to the world. He further states that we should really consider the job we do and see if it is how we want to spend our time. “If it is not,” he writes, “your job will become your prison rather than the vehicle of your dreams. And a person without dreams is only half alive.”

Nerburn goes on to say, “There is no reason why a person can’t abandon a job that does not fit and strike out into the unknown for something that lies closer to the heart….No amount of security is worth the suffering of a life chained to a routine that has killed your dreams.” He then shares a story about one of his professors who had a dream of becoming a concert pianist. But due to a fear of failure, he never realized his dream. Instead, he chose a career in academics where the work was secure and the money predictable. “Do what is in your heart,” the professor told Nerburn. “I really wanted to be a concert pianist. Now I spend every day wondering how good I might have been.”

Nerburn closes the chapter with these words of advice: “Find what it is that burns in your heart and do it. Choose a vocation, not a job, and your life will have meaning and your days will have peace.”

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than the things you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor.

Catch the trade winds in your sails.
Explore.
Dream.
~ Mark Twain

Finding Your Voice

And Saul said to David, “Go, and the Lord be with you!” Then Saul clothed David with his armor….And David tried in vain to go….Then David said to Saul, “I cannot go with these; for I am not used to them.” And David put them off.
~I Samuel 17:37 - 39 (RSV)

Have you ever felt like a chameleon? I have. Oprah refers to it as “the disease to please.” Oftentimes we morph ourselves into whatever size and shape we need to be to win the approval of others. We may be feeling sad, but we put on a happy face because we think that’s what’s expected of us. We may be angry, but we stifle our feelings rather than truthfully confront the person who hurt us. We want people to like us so we agree to volunteer for activities that we really don’t have time for or interest in; we say yes when we want to say no. It’s just easier to deny ourselves than to risk disappointing others.

I don’t think God made each of us unique only to have us spend all of our time and energy trying to imitate somebody else. He wants us to follow our own hearts and be our own person.

In today’s verse we see well-meaning Saul trying to help the poor, misguided, little shepherd boy, David who naively thinks he can take on the giant, Goliath. What Saul didn’t realize is that David wasn’t trusting in his own abilities; he was putting his faith and confidence in God. “You come to me with a sword and a spear and a javelin,” David said to Goliath. “But I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts….whom you have defied.” (I Sam. 17:45)

David was open to suggestions, however. He tried to wear Saul’s armor, but it just didn’t fit. It wasn’t him. Whenever we try to be something we’re not, it feels awkward and uncomfortable. So David went out with his sling shot and five smooth stones, trusting God to use his true talents to slay the giant. As I recall, Goliath was insulted when he saw David approaching. Well, too bad for Goliath. David knew who he was and he knew who he wasn’t. But most importantly, David knew who his God was. We can do all things through Him, but not if we’re busy trying to be like somebody else.

"There are as many ways to live and grow as there are people.
Our own ways are the only ways that should matter to us."
~ Evelyn Mandel

Recently I saw the movie “Seabiscuit, and one line jumped out at me. They were talking about a horse that had been tied to a center pole and trained to walk around and around that pole. When they decided to see if he had the potential to be a race horse, he got on the track and started making sharp little turns, instead of following the course. Someone said, “They’ve had that horse running around in circles for so long he’s forgotten what he was born to be.”

We need to look into our hearts and find out what we were born to be, and then be the best one of it.

Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to grow up to be a mom and a housewife. I’ll never forget the year I got an Easy Bake Oven for Christmas. I was in seventh heaven! It came with little packets of ingredients for making everything from pretzels to candy. I have always loved being a homemaker and I feel so blessed to have been able to fulfill that deepest desire of my heart.
But that has not been my only desire. I also love to write. I’ve written poems through the years, but this column has been my first experience at sharing my thoughts on a regular basis. It’s been good for me as a writer. It’s helped me find my voice.

“Take care to find your own true strength.
Nurture it. Develop it. Share it with those around you….”

Simple Truths by Kent Nerburn

When Johnny Cash was a young boy, his mother Carrie took in laundry for $3.00 a week so she could get him some singing lessons. After the second lesson the teacher asked Johnny to sing whatever song he’d like. He sang Lovesick Blues by Hank Williams. After his teacher heard him, she pushed away from the piano and said, “End of voice lessons! Sing it the way you feel it!”

Recently I taped one of Dr. Phil’s shows where he dealt with this issue. I recorded the following conversation he had with one of his guests who also had a dream of being a writer.

DR. PHIL:

“I’m a strong believer that we have at the absolute core of who we are what I call an ‘authentic self.’ To me that involves all the gifts, skills, abilities – all the God-given talents, traits, characteristics that you’re given. Then we add to that our learning history; what we’ve picked up from society, what we’ve accomplished or had done to us or by us along the way and that’s our authentic self. And if we’re being consistent with that and we’re allowing those traits and characteristics to come out and achieve, then we’re going to be really, really happy.

“On the other hand, there’s the fictional self, where we start making choices out of fear. We start making choices because we’re afraid of what will happen if we don’t take the job and stick with it for 16 years. We’re afraid of what will happen if we don’t conform to what Mom or Dad or society or employers or husbands or wives think we should do. And so we say, ‘Okay, authentic self – I hear you crying; I hear you’ve got this talent, I hear you’ve got that skill, I hear you’ve got this ability, but she wants me to do this or he wants me to do that and I’m afraid not to.’

“Look, you’re burning daylight. This is no dress rehearsal. It’s time. If you’re gonna do it, it’s time to do it…..What you need to do is the best you can do. And if the world stands up and salutes that, then great – the world stands up and salutes it…..

“The difference between winners and losers is winners do things losers don’t want to do. That’s the difference between a winner and a loser. Nobody wants to get rejected. Our #1 fear is rejection; our #1 need is acceptance. But winners say, ‘I don’t care if you reject me. It’s gonna hurt me, but you know what? I would rather have the chance and reach for it then sit on the sidelines and watch the world pass me by.’

“What you do is … behave your way to success and what you’ll find out is – monsters live in the dark. So people don’t like something you do? Fine. Somebody else will.

“Writing is a solitary thing – I’ve done it. I’ve written book after book and I sit down and I’m there by myself and it’s late at night and I’m writing and I’m working. Then there comes a time when you put it out there and people are either gonna read it or they’re not – they’re either gonna buy it or they don’t.

“I’ll tell you the secret for me. I decided I’m gonna write this book and I’m gonna tell the truth as I see it…and I was proud of the book whether somebody bought a single copy or not – and then it didn’t matter.”

A friend of mine gave me a beautiful stone plaque that sits on a stand by my computer. It reads: “Words are the voice of the heart.”

I’d like to once again thank Joann Kahnt for giving me this opportunity to find my voice, and the readers of The Prairie Post for listening to it.

When Love Goes Wrong

"What therefore God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.”
~ Mark 10:9

Last week I wrote about the blessings of love and a long-lasting marriage. This week I’d like to talk about the opposite scenario – when love goes wrong.

I don’t think anyone would disagree that the disintegration of the family and the high rate of divorce is a sad commentary on the state of our country. Nobody likes to see a family torn apart by divorce. But I truly believe that sometimes it becomes necessary for the well being and survival of those involved.

In regards to the above Bible verse, my husband had an interesting thought: Maybe God didn’t join some people together in the first place. Isn’t it possible that sometimes we’ve made a terrible mistake and simply married the wrong person? As long as we’re human, we’re capable of making some really bad decisions in our lives. Or maybe the person we married changed after the wedding. I’ve seen that happen time and again – they act like Prince Charming before the wedding, and then they turn into a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. But thankfully, God is a God of second chances!

Some may say that’s a copout or an excuse to give up too quickly on marriage. But I’m not talking about the little disagreements that we all have from time to time (or the occasional BIG disagreements, for that matter) – I’m talking about being married to someone who is unfaithful or continually abuses you or your children verbally, emotionally or physically. As much as God hates divorce, I believe He hates seeing His children abused even more. In fact, the Bible tells us that God takes a dim view of men who mistreat their wives.

“And this you do with double guilt; you cover the altar of the Lord with tears [shed by your unoffending wives]…..”
~ Malachi 2:13 (Amp)

God doesn’t want us to live out our days suffering abuse at the hands of someone who has broken their vow to love, honor and cherish – till death do them part.

There are many reasons why women tolerate abuse at the hands of their spouse, but the main reason usually involves financial concerns. Additionally, abusive men are into power and control and they’re usually very good at manipulating their wives into believing that they are worthless and stupid and no one else would ever want them. After years of being criticized and belittled, the woman’s self-esteem is obliterated and she eventually starts to believe all the negative things he says about her. So she resigns herself to a life of misery and heartache, deciding that even a bad love is better than no love.

Another reason many women stay in a verbally or physically abusive relationship is because there are children involved. When they got married, it was for life – and they never wanted their children to come from a broken home. Sadly, in most cases, their home is already broken. Yet, no matter how bad it gets, they convince themselves that they should just hang in there “for the sake of the children.” But we need to ask ourselves, what is it doing to the children to be living in the middle of a war zone?

Besides that, what kind of an example of marriage is that setting for them? Do we want them to think that it’s normal for husbands and wives to scream at each other day in and day out? Do we want our daughters to think it’s acceptable for a man to cheat on them, belittle them or physically abuse them? Is that really the picture of love we want to paint for our children?

Amelia E. Barr once said, "What right do I have to make everyone in the house miserable because I am miserable? Troubles must come to all, but troubles need not be wicked, and it is wicked to be a destroyer of happiness."

In my sister’s case, she and her kids are happier and more peaceful since the divorce (which was finalized last summer). Recently, her 12-year-old daughter had to write an autobiography for school and she talked about how her dad didn’t treat her very well when he lived with them. Then she quoted the words to a country western song by Jimmy Wayne titled “Stay gone.”

Here’s a poem I wrote for my sister two years ago when she was just beginning to contemplate divorce.

For My Sister’s Sake

My sister’s in a marriage –
if you can call it that,
Her husband is so mean to her,
he tells her she’s ugly and fat.

He never shows her any signs
of kindness, love or affection,
Nothing she does ever meets
his standard of perfection.

He yells at my sister day and night
because the house isn’t clean,
Believe it or not, he even complains
about water spots on the washing machine!

When my sister makes an honest mistake
he mocks her and calls her stupid,
I don’t know where this guy came from
but it certainly wasn’t from Cupid!

Even their kids have noticed the fact
that their dad’s not a very nice fella,
They don’t like how he bosses their mother around
as if she were Cinderella.

When times were tough, as they often were
and his insults pierced her heart,
She took a deep breath and told herself
that this was the “for worse” part.

She wanted to keep her family intact
so she fought with all that she had,
She tried to focus on the good
and overlook the bad.

But recently she discovered
that her suspicions about him were true,
It seems there were three people in the marriage
instead of the traditional two.

Now, whether her life as a single mom
will be an improvement, there’s no guarantee,
But for my sister’s sake, I hope she takes that chance
at least then she will finally be free.

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

Recently another dear friend of mine, Mae from Texas, sent me an interesting commentary on divorce from The Word Among Us magazine (www.wau.org)
Coincidentally, Mae and I became friends when she sent me a letter after reading one of the poems I’d written about my sister’s abusive marriage. I’d like to close with this excerpt:

“If you are divorced, know that Jesus loves you just as much as ever. He shares your pain and suffers with you. Think about His encounter with the woman at the well (John 4:1-42). He didn’t condemn this woman, even though she had been married five times and was currently living with a man who was not her husband. Instead, He brought her to repentance, healed her, and sent her back to her village to tell other people about Him.

Whether married, divorced, or single, all of us need to know God’s healing. Our Father wants to mend the wounds in every marriage as well as the wounds of those who have been affected by divorce….He wants to put his arms around us and give us His blessing (Mark 10:16).”

Ain't Love Grand?

“He who finds a wife finds a good thing, and obtains favor from the LORD.”
~ Proverbs 18:22 (RSV)

Through the wonder of computer technology, I’ve been privileged to get to know many people whom I’ve never had the opportunity to meet face to face.

In a recent email from two of those dear people, Jack and Evelyn from Florida, they wrote about the vows at their 50th wedding anniversary celebration. “Gee, that was 61 years ago. How time does get on in our lives. Are we ever blessed!” Later, Jack realized how that sounded and had this to say:

“Just reread the above....better make sure I get you straight! 61 years ago
was our wedding...not 61 years ago, our 50th anniversary. However, you would not have to retake Math 101 to figure that out! Please, Eileen, no mention in your Reflections that you know someone who was married 111 years ago...or are you also writing a Ripley column?”

Okay, Jack. I won’t write about the couple from Florida who has been married for 111 years. But I did write a little poem for you.

61 Years Ago
(for Jack & Evelyn)

How could we have known
how You would bless our life
When 61 years ago,
we became man and wife?

You blessed us with children
And grandchildren, too –
In every situation, Lord
You were there to see us through

Yes, we stand in awe and wonder,
of all the blessings You’ve bestowed
But the miracle we’re most grateful for
began 61 years ago.

Speaking of blessings, last Friday a group of “Almanites” met at Gambino’s Pizza to welcome two very special people to our town, Bob and Alma Walters. But first I should give you a little background information which Bob shared in a letter he wrote to the residents of Alma in a recent edition of The Wabaunsee County Signal-Enterprise.

In the letter, Bob described the profound effect a billboard on I-70 had on his life eight years ago when he was driving from Marion, Ohio to California to visit his stepdaughter, Tasha. During his stay, Bob met Alma, the grandmother of the one-year-old boy Tasha cared for as a live-in nanny. Alma had been widowed 6 months earlier after her husband of 33 years passed away unexpectedly of a heart attack.

Bob wrote about the instant attraction he felt for Alma. During his visit, they had several opportunities to spend time together and with each meeting, his fondness for her grew. But Bob didn’t know how he could express his feelings to someone who had so recently lost her beloved husband. So he left California as planned and headed home to Ohio.

On the drive back he couldn’t stop thinking about Alma. “She was such a warm, wonderful, funny, beautiful woman,” he wrote. In short, Alma was everything Bob could ever hope for in a mate.

The battle to get Alma off his mind continued through Nevada, Utah, Colorado and into Kansas. “Then it happened!” he wrote. “The billboard loomed ahead like an oasis in the desert, sending shockwaves of relief and confidence throughout my mind, body and soul!”

ALMA HAS IT ALL!

“Those four HUGE words on a billboard in Kansas on I-70 …. a sign from the heavens illuminating my soul! Those four words gave me the confidence to call Alma to ask if she would agree to see me if I came back to California. Those four words gave me the guts to express my feelings and to allow her to respond in a way that established such a wonderful connection that I don’t know how I ever lived without it!

“On September 1st, 1995, Alma and I went out on our first date, and we’ve been together ever since! And the romance, and the laughter, and the love continue to grow!”

Bob went on to explain that he and Alma would be driving through our town of Alma around the first of October and he asked people to contact them so they could make arrangements to meet some of the local residents. They wanted to talk to people who grew up in Alma and perhaps meet those responsible for the sign that changed the course of their life eight years ago.

We all enjoyed visiting and laughing with Bob and Alma. They are an interesting, fun-loving couple with a true zest for life. They are so grateful for the twist of fate that gave Bob the courage to express his feelings for a woman he had only just met.

I guess it goes to show that we should pay attention to the signs in our life – both literal and otherwise!

My Sister, Mary

But Ruth said: "Entreat me not to leave you, Or to turn back from following after you; For wherever you go, I will go; And wherever you lodge, I will lodge; Your people shall be my people, And your God, my God.” ~ Ruth 1:16

This past weekend I was talking on the phone to our daughter-in-law, Erin, and she had a few humorous stories about things the kids had said or done. The other day her one-year-old, Gabriel, got a hold of the cordless phone. After she took it away from him the phone rang. It was the sheriff’s department calling to make sure everyone was all right because they just received a 911 call. Of all the numbers he could have pushed!

Another time Asher said: “Mommy, our baby is growing up!” They’re going to a new babysitter now since Erin started nursing school so when she picked them up the other day Asher looked sad. He said, “My friend wasn’t there today, Mommy. Gabe had a friend, but I didn’t.” Then Erin was wondering how they liked their new sitter so she asked Asher if she was nice and he said yes. Then she asked him if she ever yells at him and once again he said yes. Feeling a bit concerned, Erin inquired about what she said when she yelled at him and Asher replied, “She said: Be careful!”

My sister Mary gave me a comic strip recently. She said it reminded her of me. It was The Family Circus by Bil Keane and it showed two little kids standing on the sidewalk watching a third boy walking towards them. The one kid says to the other one – “Oh, no! Here comes Billy with more cute things his grandmother said.”

Speaking of Mary – you guessed it – she has a birthday coming up! This Sunday, October 5, she will be celebrating her 47th birthday. Mary and I are just about two years apart in age, but we’re as different as night and day. How is it, then, that we have been the best of friends for nearly our entire life? (With the exception of that period of time when she hated my guts because I wore one of her new shirts before she even wore it and after she specifically told me not to! But we won’t talk about that.)

Mary and I shared a room up until the time that she started high school. By then, a few of our older siblings had moved out, so that freed up one of their rooms. Mary was the best big sister I could ever hope for. Whenever I had trouble falling asleep, she would sing hymns to me from church – like Ave Maria or the Our Father. It worked every time!

The thing I remember most about our childhood is the laughter. Like most sisters, we laughed and giggled about the silliest things. In fact, whenever one of us was feeling blue, we had these imaginary giggle pills that we’d take – and they really worked! But then there were those times when the giggle pills got us into trouble. Like when our dad would come into our room at night to tell us to quiet down and go to sleep. After ignoring repeated warnings, we would suffer the consequences on our backsides.

Mary knew how to play the guitar and she also wrote songs, so she and I would often sing together. In fact, when our parents had dinner parties, several of us girls would entertain the guests by performing for them. We sang songs like Michael Row Your Boat Ashore, 500 Miles, Lemon Tree, Where Have All the Flowers Gone and White Coral Bells (which we sang as a round). I still love those old songs.

Mary’s been with me through thick and thin. When we moved to Singapore and had trouble adjusting to a new high school in a foreign country, we were each other’s only friend. She was there when I came home from my first date with Keen. She was in my wedding and I was in hers. One time she came for a visit and noticed that our oldest son, Jared, was riding a bike with a banana seat that was too small for him. Well, Aunt Mary was absolutely appalled and promptly made her way to the nearest Wal-Mart to buy him a brand new bicycle. When her twins were born, I had the privilege of being there before, during and after their birth. And when she told me that Chloe’s middle name would be Eileen, I was overwhelmed with joy. More recently, I supported her during a painful divorce.

Mary is good for me. She makes me feel special. She calls me “Bean.” I remember how we laughed until we cried when I was at her house and she asked me if I wanted a cup of coffee. “Coffee, Bean?” she asked. We still laugh about that. Everything is funny when I’m with Mary. But she’s got it all wrong. She’s the truly special one.

I found the perfect poem for Mary that I’d like to share with you. Ironically, it comes from a book of poems about sisters that Mary gave me for Mother’s Day last year. This is my birthday wish for you, Mary….. sent with all my love.

You Are a Very Special Sister
By Sydney Nealson.

I want you to know how amazing you are.
I want you to know how much you’re treasured
and celebrated and quietly thanked.

I want you to feel really good about who you are.
About all the great things you do!
I want you to appreciate your uniqueness.
Acknowledge your talents and abilities.
Realize what a beautiful soul you have.
Understand the wonder within.

You make so much sun shine through, and
you inspire so much joy in the lives of
everyone who is lucky enough to know you.

You are a very special person, giving so many people a reason to smile. You deserve to receive the best in return, and one of my heart’s favorite hopes is that the happiness you give away will come back to warm you each and every day of your life.

Thank You, Mom

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights….” ~ James 1:17 (NKJV)

A few weeks ago I wrote about the Women of Faith conference I attended in Iowa and you might recall that I shared that poem titled “Dust if you Must” along with one of my own poems entitled Kids. It was about how my life with kids is not clean or quiet. Well, today I received a nice surprise in the mail from a small magazine called Happiness. They publish all the weekly television listings along with pictures and poems from their readers. I had submitted my Kids poem for publication and they decided to publish it on Page 7 of the October 4-10 edition. They sent me two copies along with $25.00. That’s a first for me!

This Saturday, September 27th, my stepmother, Barbara Brady, will be celebrating her birthday. I’ve never really liked the term “stepmother.” But then I was thinking about how Barbara helped us carry on after our mother’s death, and that gave new meaning to the word “step.”

Barbara came into our life after we lost our mother to cancer over fourteen years ago. From day one she has filled our lives with love and laughter and she continues to be one of God’s greatest gifts to our family. I was reading one of my journals from about ten years ago and our son Josh summed up our feelings like this: “Grandma gave Grandma to us. Your mom gave Grandma Barb to us, to watch over us."

About ten years ago I was at a loss for words as to how to adequately express my gratitude to Barbara. I thought I would explode if I didn’t get my feelings on paper. Finally one night as I was getting ready for bed, a phrase popped into my head, so I wrote it down. "How do you thank someone? Please tell me how ….."

Please Tell Me How

How do you thank someone for caring and sharing, for
loving and giving from their heart and soul?
Please tell me how.

How do you thank someone for filling your life with fun
and surprises, love and laughter?
Please tell me how.

How do you thank someone for taking you into their heart
and their home, just when you needed them most?
Please tell me how.

How do you thank someone for a mother's love, a mother's
warmth, a mother's hug?

Please tell me how, and I'll do it.

**********

But alas, the dilemma continues. This is my latest attempt to convey my love and appreciation to my stepmother, Barbara.

September, 2003

Thank you, Mom

Mom, thank you for having such a big heart. When you married our dad you treated all nine of us as if you’d given birth to each and everyone of us. We all felt blessed – overwhelmed, really – by all the love you showed us right from the start. God broke the mold when He made you, Mom.

They say no one can ever replace a loved one lost – and that’s true I suppose, because no two people are alike. But I believe that God handpicked you for all of us, because He didn’t want us to be left without the love of a mother. He knew that you had enough love in your heart (even though it had been wounded many times in the past) for our very large family. We felt a void when our mother died, but you came along and you filled it. You’re so good at everything a mother does – loving without condition or question, giving advice when asked but letting us make our own decisions, supporting us no matter what direction our life may take and encouraging us every step along the way.

You’ll never know – you couldn’t possibly know – how much all your love has meant to me over the years. So this is my feeble attempt to help you understand how much I appreciate your love for me and how much love I have in my heart for you.

Thank you, Mom. You are such a gift from God.

Ahhhhh…....Grandchildren!

“Children's children are the crown of old men….”
~ Proverbs 17:6 (NKJV)

Keen and I have two grandsons who are both celebrating their birthdays this week. Our youngest grandson, Gabriel Michael, had his first birthday on September 17th and his big brother, Asher William, will celebrate his 4th birthday on September 21st. They already had their joint birthday party last Sunday. When my daughter-in-law Erin asked Asher what his favorite gift was, he thought for a minute and said, “The birthday hats!” We should all be so easy to please!

I’d like to share this poem that I wrote when Asher was about six months old.

A New Kind of Wonder
By Eileen Umbehr

When Asher was born on September 21st,
I was so excited, I thought I would burst.

My daughter-in-law invited me to be in the room,
when their bundle of love decided to bloom.

Then I watched my firstborn son cut the cord asunder,
while I peered into the face of this New Kind of Wonder.

I saw his cute dimples; I heard his first cry.
Yes, I witnessed a miracle, right before my eyes.

He’s not mine, but then he is, because he’s a part of me –
this newest little branch on our family tree.

You just cannot imagine, the joy that he brings –
that is, unless you have your own grand-offspring!

Whenever I haven’t seen him in a while,
he puts his little hands on my cheeks and gives me a big smile.

Asher’s name means blessed, lucky and happy,
And that’s just what he’s made his grandma and grandpappy.

So whenever I’m feeling a little bit under,
I just look into the face of this New Kind of Wonder.

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

Jared, Erin and Asher lived in Manhattan until Asher was two years old, so we really enjoyed having them so close by. Then, after September 11th, Jared decided to join the Navy, and they moved to Ohio so Erin could live with her parents and enroll in nursing school. We sure do miss them.

Here’s another poem I wrote shortly after they moved to Ohio two years ago.

Most of all
By Eileen Umbehr

I miss seeing your smile
and hearing your laugh
I miss singing you to sleep
and holding you on my lap.

The high chair sits empty,
the toy box is untouched;
And I guess we won’t be needing,
these little forks, spoons and cups.

Here are a few extra diapers,
And a can of Pediasure,
Some tiny little mittens
that won’t fit anyone ‘round here.

Now there’s no one to sing,
the “Asher cheer” to,
Because there’s nobody else
half as special as you.

Everywhere I look
I’m reminded of you,
the legos in the closet
and seeing Blue’s Clues.

I miss your mommy
And your daddy, too
But most of all, Asher,
I miss you.

About that nursing degree…..well, life has a funny way of throwing you curve balls and this little curve ball weighed 6 lbs. 4 oz. and is named Gabriel Michael. But we wouldn’t trade him for anything (although his Daddy says he’s not quite as “adorable” at 2:00 in the morning). So Erin took a year off to nurse and nurture their new little son and now, a year later, she is ready to start back to nursing school. Erin is strong and determined, so I have no doubt that she will achieve all of her goals. (She’s also very intelligent – that always helps!)

I remember the night Gabriel was born. I was on the phone with Jared and he was explaining that there were some complications and the doctors were considering doing a C-section. All of a sudden Jared said, “Mom, I’ve gotta go! Erin’s having the baby!” He called about an hour later to let us know that Erin had another healthy baby boy and she was able to deliver him naturally. Then Jared said, “Do you want to hear him, Mom?” So he put the phone by his newborn son and I heard one of Gabe’s very first cries. Needless to say, that started a chain reaction and soon Grandma was crying, too. But it was the next best thing to being there.

Asher and Gabe have turned out to be the best of buddies. Gabe’s a tough little guy who already likes to romp on the floor with his brother. When Erin moved Gabe into Asher’s room recently Asher was just thrilled. I’m so glad they have each other for a built in playmate.

Before I close, I’d like to share one more poem that a woman named Deb Miller wrote for her grandchildren.

Loving a Grandchild!
By Deb Miller

Loving a grandchild is
like none other.
It's not quite the same as
being a mother.

You love your children,
each one is unique,
But the love of a grandchild,
will sweep you off your feet.

They look up at you,
with their cute little grins,
touching your heart deep within.

They're sweet little angels
sent from up above,
and they warm your heart
with unconditional love.

ASHER & GABE

Asher William Umbehr
Born September 21, 1999

Gabriel Michael Umbehr
Born September 17, 2002

Gone, But Not Forgotten

“My eye wastes away because of grief; It grows old because of all my enemies. Depart from me, all you workers of iniquity; For the Lord has heard the voice of my weeping. The Lord has heard my supplication; The Lord will receive my prayer.”
~ Psalms 6:7-9 (NKJV)

This edition of The Prairie Post will come out on the anniversary of one of the most tragic days in American history.

In honor of those who lost their lives on September 11th and in tribute to the families who lost their loved ones, I’d like to share the following poem which I received in an email.

A Dad's Poem
Author unknown

Her hair was up in a pony tail,
her favorite dress tied with a bow.
Today was “Daddy's Day” at school,
and she couldn't wait to go.

But her mommy tried to tell her,
that she should just stay home.
Why the kids might not understand,
if she went to school alone.

But she was not afraid;
she knew just what to say.
What to tell her classmates
of why he wasn't there today.

But still her mother worried,
for her to face this day alone.
And that was why once again,
she tried to keep her daughter home.

But the little girl went to school,
eager to tell them all.
About a dad she never sees
a dad who never calls.

There were daddies along the wall in back,
for everyone to meet.
Children squirming impatiently,
anxious in their seats.

One by one the teacher called,
a student from the class.
To introduce their daddy,
as seconds slowly passed.

At last the teacher called her name,
every child turned to stare.
Each of them was searching,
for a man who wasn't there.

Where's her daddy at?"
she heard a boy call out.
She probably doesn't have one,"
another student dared to shout.

And from somewhere near the back,
she heard a daddy say,
Looks like another deadbeat dad,
too busy to waste his day."

The words did not offend her,
as she smiled up at her Mom.
And looked back at her teacher,
while she stood there all alone.

With hands behind her back,
slowly she began to speak.
And out of the mouth of a child,
came words incredibly unique.

My Daddy couldn't be here,
because he lives so far away.
But I know he wishes he could be,
since this is such a special day.

And though you cannot meet him,
I wanted you to know.
All about my daddy,
and how much he loves me so.

He loved to tell me stories
he taught me to ride my bike.
He surprised me with pink roses,
and taught me to fly a kite.

We used to share fudge sundaes,
and ice cream in a cone.
And though you cannot see him,
I’m not standing here alone.

Because my daddy's always with me,
even though we are apart
I know because he told me,
he'll forever be in my heart.”

With that, her little hand reached up,
and lay across her chest.
Feeling her own heartbeat,
beneath her favorite dress.

And from somewhere in the crowd of dads,
her mother stood in tears.
Proudly watching her daughter,
who was wise beyond her years.

For she stood up for the love
of a man not in her life.
Doing what was best for her,
doing what was right.

And when she dropped her hand back down,
staring straight into the crowd.
She finished with a voice so soft,
but its message clear and loud.

I love my daddy very much,
he's my shining star.
And if he could, he'd be here,
but Heaven's just too far

You see he was a fireman
who died just this past year
When airplanes hit the towers
and taught Americans to fear.

But sometimes when I close my eyes,
it's like he never went away.”
And then she closed her eyes,
and saw him standing there that day.

And to her mother's amazement,
she witnessed with surprise.
A room full of daddies and children,
all starting to close their eyes.

Who knows what they saw before them,
who knows what they felt inside.
Perhaps for merely a second,
they saw him at her side.

I know you're with me, Daddy,"
to the silence she called out.
And what happened next made believers,
of those once filled with doubt.

No one in that room could explain it,
for each of their eyes had been closed.
But there on the desk beside her,
was one long-stemmed pink rose.

And a child was blessed, if only for a moment,
by the love of her shining bright star.
She was given the gift of believing,
that Heaven is never too far.

God Bless our FireFighters

Father to Son

“….a wise son makes a father glad.”
~ Proverbs 10:1

(The following is a letter my husband recently wrote to our 19-year-old son, Keen II)

July 23, 2003

Dear Keen,

Lately, there have been several things on my heart that I wanted to share with you. The first is that I am so proud of you. Many times parents don’t tell their kids that often enough. I see the man you have become and I truly marvel. During the reception dance at Josh’s wedding I was struck by how you acted, interacted and reacted to the many different situations you encountered. For example, the speech you gave while toasting the bride and groom was so moving and sincere. Your words flowed with such ease and elegance that I was amazed. Where, I wondered, did you learn to speak with such passion and professionalism? Your words were so polished and precise. As a father, it made me extremely proud that my son could stand up in front of all those people and speak from the heart about his love for his brother. It was as though you had given wedding party toasts all your life. It was my most rewarding moment. I am so proud of you.

Next, from the very first dance, I observed you living your life in the comfort of your element. It was easy to see that you are a leader of men. You are not constrained by what others think or burdened by another’s code or convictions. I witnessed the person you have become; an honorable, self-assured and principled individual. You have truly become your own man. Your mannerisms and ability to relate to the very young as well as the very old is evidence that you possess the wisdom that “people matter.” During and after the reception, I was complimented numerous times on what a great person you are. I am so proud of you.

Finally, I want to share something else that has been on my heart for the last few days. It seems that parents never tell their kids the exact point in time when they officially become the captains of their own ship; architects of their own destiny. For the most part, it’s probably because parents don’t relish the thought of relinquishing control of their children’s life or the right to meddle in their decisions. But after observing you at the wedding and reception, I see that your mother and I have nothing to worry about. We have raised you with the wisdom to seek the guidance of God and to follow your heart even when, to the world, it makes no practical sense. In Micah 6:8 God makes it crystal clear how we are to live our lives: “He has shown you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God.” I can see in you, Keen, that this is how you live your life. I am so proud of you.

I want to mark this day as the day that your mother and I no longer regard you as a child but as a man; independent and autonomous in all respects. We have confidence that you are being led and protected by the grace of God and believe that you will go into the world and fulfill God’s perfect plan for your life. When we think of you, the words, “splendidly fearless” come to our hearts. We know that you will do extremely well in whatever you put your hand to. We are so proud of you.

In Dale Carnegie’s book, “How to Stop Worrying and Start Living”, he challenges the readers to figure out the worst possible thing that could happen in any new pursuit. Once you identify the “worst case scenario” and realize that it’s survivable, then you can forge ahead with confidence. I have a plaque that reads: “You can’t steal second base with your foot on first.” Life is about taking risks. Sometimes you win, and sometimes you don’t. Ahhh, but to have the courage to try is to be “splendidly fearless.” Remember the feeling of stealing second base or the thrill of the fast break in basketball? For those few seconds, life is so real, so captivating, so on the edge of great success or failure. My hope is for you to be able to live your life with this kind of tantalizing enthusiasm.

No matter what decisions you make in your life and how things ultimately turn out, please know that your mother and I will always be ready and willing to rally the troops, circle the wagons and send in the choppers for evacuation if you just give us the word. Over the years, our parents have always been there to support us in good times and bad, through our successes and failures. It’s what families do.

Theodore Roosevelt once said, “The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, who strives valiantly; who know the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best, knows the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

In closing, please know that your mother and I will always be here for you. We are just moving to the back seat because God is your co-pilot now. Go forth and conquer the world. We are so proud of you.

Love,

Dad

Keen II giving the toast at Josh & Lisa's wedding

Dust if You Must

“And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.” ~ Luke 10:41, 42

Two weekends ago, my daughter-in-law, Lisa and I drove to Ames, Iowa to attend a Women of Faith conference with my sister Connie from Minnesota and sister Peggy from Des Moines.

I don’t know if any of you have heard of the Women of Faith conferences, but if you ever get a chance to attend one I would highly recommend it. I had never been to one before, but a friend of mine gave me some free tickets so we decided to give it a try.

The five women who make up the Women of Faith team are: Luci Swindoll, author of I Married Adventure and Celebrating Life; Marilyn Meberg (they call her “The Professor” because she holds master’s degrees in English and Psychology), author of The Zippered Heart and I’d Rather Be Laughing; Sheila Walsh, author of All That Really Matters and Life is Tough But God is Faithful; Patsy Clairmont, author of The Hat Box, The Shoe Box and Mending Your Heart in a Broken World; and last but not least, Thelma Wells (author of Girl, Have I Got Good News for You! and Bumblebees Fly Anyway). You can learn more about the Women of Faith team and their conference schedule on their web site at womenoffaith.com.

All of the women were dynamic speakers with a great sense of humor, but Patsy Clairmont was my personal favorite. She was so full of spunk. Patsy told about the time she was reading to one of her grandsons when suddenly she just couldn’t contain the love she felt for him. So she gave him a big hug and said, “I could just eat you up!” Well, his little eyes became as big as saucers. Then he pointed his “instructional finger” at her and said, “Grandma! You….be….nice!”

Patsy also recited one of my favorite poems called Dust if you Must – a popular poem that has made the rounds on the email circuit. My sister Peggy had never heard it before, however. She said she learned a lot because he had just been thinking about how she couldn’t wait to retire so she could dust! We all had a big laugh about that.

Dust if You Must
Author unknown

Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better
to paint a picture, or write a letter?
Bake a cake, or plant a seed,
ponder the difference between want and need?
Dust if you must, but there’s not much time,
with rivers to swim and mountains to climb!
Music to hear, and books to read,
friends to cherish and life to lead.
Dust if you must, but the world's out there
with the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain,
this day will not come ‘round again.
Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
Old age will come and it's not kind.
And when you go, and go you must,
You, yourself, will make more dust!

With four boys in the house (five, including Keen), I had several plaques that reminded me of how futile it was for me to try to keep my house perfectly clean. Here are my favorites: Cleanliness is next to impossible; Cleaning the house while children are growing, is like shoveling the walk while it is still snowing (Phyllis Diller); I cleaned my house yesterday; I wish you could have seen it.”

When I was growing up, I recall a plaque my mother hung in our home which read: Come in, sit down, relax converse; our house doesn’t always look like this, sometimes it’s even worse!

Here’s a poem I wrote about this subject back in 1996.

KIDS

My life with kids is not as clean
as it would probably be
Nothing I clean is clean for long
as you can plainly see.

There are fingerprints on the windows
games and toys strewn down the hall
Sometimes I wonder why I bother
to clean the house at all!

For kids leave a trail of crumbs and dirt
wherever they may roam
So daily I remind myself,
this isn't a house, it's a home.

My life with kids is much noisier
than it would probably be
With constant questions like, "Mom can I?"
and "When are we going to eat?"

There's rarely a moment of peace or quiet,
when they all talk, it sounds like a roar.
If someone eavesdropped at supper time,
they'd think we had nine kids, not four!

The brothers, they love to wrestle
they laugh, and scream and run
And though I want to tell them to go outside
I just hate to spoil their fun!

So my life with kids is not clean or quiet
but none of that really matters
I'd give up those things any day,
for the love, the joy and the laughter.

In closing, I’d like to leave you with a few excerpts from a piece written by the late Erma Bombeck.

If I had my life to live over again
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the
carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room
and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted
to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose
before it melted in storage.

I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried
about grass stains.

There would have been more "I love you's"… more "I'm sorry's" ... but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it ... live it...and never give it back.

Keen, Kirk, Jared, & Josh

Marne & Mildred

“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under Heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die….” ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1,2

This week I would like to share a tribute I wrote for a friend of mine named Marne who lost the woman he loved for nearly fifty years, Mildred. It was compiled from comments Marne made to me expressing the deep affection he felt for Mildred.

Here is an excerpt from an email I received from Marne just a few days before the funeral:

“Tuesday will be a sad day for me. My tear reservoir has run dry for now. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.... I have no idea how long I will be at the cemetery. I will hate to leave there and leave Mildred behind. Tears are starting to flow now, so this is all.”

The following piece is something I wrote in an attempt to describe the special relationship that Marne and Mildred shared.

Marne & Mildred

(A love story)

Marne and Mildred never married, but their love endured longer than most marriages –nearly fifty years. There was never anyone else for either one of them. He was the love of her life and she was the love of his.

Marne took care of his mother until she died and Mildred did the same for her mother. Marne would visit Mildred’s home almost daily where they enjoyed spending time together, sharing meals or just watching TV.

When Mildred’s health failed and she had to go into a nursing home, Marne continued to visit her on a regular basis.

Mildred’s face always lit up when Marne walked in the room. She couldn’t communicate very well – only a few words here and there, but he could tell by the look in her eyes that she was glad he came.

“If she’s good, then I’m good,” he’d say. “And if she’s unhappy, then I’m unhappy.”

As time went on and Mildred’s health continued to decline, Marne said, “I have more or less lost the best gift the good Lord has given me.” He tried to be thankful for all the good years he had with her, but just the thought of Mildred preceding him in death made him sad. Some nights he would shed a bucket of tears before finally falling asleep.

Eventually Marne hated to answer the phone for fear that it would be the nursing home calling to tell him that something had happened to Mildred.

Then one day that dreaded call came. Marne rushed to the hospital and stayed by Mildred’s bedside around the clock, holding her hand and telling her he loved her. “It was sad watching her gasping for air and wearing an oxygen mask,” he said. “I shed tears until there were no more tears to shed.”

Two nights later, Marne thought Mildred was improving so he went home to get some much needed sleep. He’d only been asleep for four hours when the telephone rang again. “Come quickly,” the voice on the other end of the line said. “She’s slipping away.”

When Marne walked in the room Mildred opened her eyes and smiled weakly. He told her he loved her and that they’d meet again in Heaven one day.

He held her hand for two more hours whispering the words, “I love you, Mildred.” Even though she couldn’t speak, he knew that she loved him, too.

Then he watched her take her last breath and told her goodbye.

Mildred

Family Reunions

And that these days should be remembered and kept throughout every generation, every family, every province, and every city…” ~ Esther 9:28

To say that my dad, Joe Van Kirk, is a big believer in family reunions is a major under- statement. Even though there were nine kids in my family, Dad really wants us to get together each and every year. And he puts his money where his mouth is, too. Dad pays for the lodging; we just have to cover our transportation and food.

While I was preparing this week’s article, I came across this poem my niece Peggy wrote for my dad about three years ago.

Ode to Our Grandpa

It happened once upon a time
In a land so far away,
There lived a handsome man named Joe,
A “bat” kept women at bay.

Finally he settled down,
Not an easy thing to do,
He managed to support nine kids
But something grew up, too.

Phone bills racked up way too high,
Something must be done!
Annual reunions sound real good,
With lots of family fun.

And so began a great tradition,
From Wisconsin to Chelan,
A birthday, a fire, a jet ski ride
A play and a real nice tan.

Uncle Jim stealing water tubes
And Nikki “clowning around,”
The trademark “sisters’ laugh”
And Ishkabibbles- what a sound!

Looking from the outside in,
It may not seem so great
But we all know it’s obvious,
The Van Kirks are first rate!

Now, I’ll have to explain the line about “ishkabibbles.” When we were growing up, we had a family cheer that we would shout out whenever our dad came home from a business trip (or any other time of celebration). It went, “Ish-ka-bibble, ish-ka-bah – Daddy Van Kirk, rah, rah, rah!” (The tradition continues at our home now, too). My mom’s only sister’s family had a cheer, too. Their last name is Lynch so their cheer was, “Inchy winch, inchy winch – Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah for Daddy Lynch!” Every Easter we would visit them at their home in Decatur, Illinois and I can still remember the battle of the cheers that took place on their front lawn before we all loaded into the station wagon to head back to Wisconsin. There were nine of us and only five of them, so the Van Kirk kids had an advantage over the Lynch clan in the shouting contest.

Each year one of us takes our turn planning the family reunion, and generally it’s held in the vicinity of that family’s home. Since we’re scattered all over the United States, it makes for some pretty interesting vacations. This year the reunion took place in Virginia Beach, Virginia and was hosted by my youngest brother Bob and his wife Christine. We rented three large homes right on the beach and had a really great time. The waves were a little too rough for me, so I only went surfing with a boogie board one day.

Keen and several other brave family members rented a deep sea fishing charter boat and caught a 71 lb. tuna! They had it professionally cleaned and it was enough to feed all 40 of us. My brother-in-law, Jim Reese from Des Moines, broke a record with a 29 lb. Mahi-Mahi he caught. They’re going to send him a plaque and everything.

We usually celebrate several birthdays at the reunions – especially when someone reaches a milestone. But since my dad’s birthday is August 24th (he is 79 this year) we celebrate his birthday every year. Another birthday we usually end up celebrating is our sister-in-law Cindy’s, because it always falls during the week of the reunion. This year I wrote a poem that pretty much describes the kind of person Cindy is.

Cindy

Her name is Cindy, she’s our sister-in-law
And boy am I ever glad
She’s just such a gem and on top of that -
She gave us two nieces and one lad!

Cindy came from a small family
Just her parents and one lone brother
But the man that she married had eight siblings
Now that’s a horse of a different color!

As you can imagine, it was quite an adjustment
for this quiet lady to make
But in no time at all she was one of the gang
A risk she was willing to take!

She’s the cream of the crop and we all adore her
perhaps because she loves our brother, Joe
Or maybe we just appreciate the fact
That she’s willing to let us steal the show!
But to tell you the truth, she’s adjusted quite well
to the fact that we’re a family of hams
In fact, another reason we all love her so much
Is cuz she’s one of our biggest fans!

It’s hard to do her justice in this one little poem
There’s so much that makes her stand out
She’s a wonderful sister, mother and wife
She’s one in a million - without a doubt!

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

All in all we had a wonderful time, sharing old memories and making new ones. And even though Keen and I don’t make it to the reunion every year, we definitely recognize and value the bonding that takes place with those we love so much.

I’d like to close with a poem written by Diantha Zschoche from Vista, California.

Family Gatherings

The high pitched chatter of toddlers
The noisy silence of adolescents
Masks of boredom hiding twitching ears
The occasional red faced pleas of “Oh, Moms….” And “I did nots…”
The low rumblings and cackled laughter of varied generations
as recollections of years gone by compete, then harmonize
with choruses of “Yes, I remember when…”
and “You should see….” Abounding
Laughs and frowns and smiles and grimaces grace the faces
blurring together in flip book fashion,
as people mill about playing musical chairs and rooms
linked by blood and history.

The Van Kirk family – Virginia Beach, 2003

The Wedding

“…and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you.”
~ Isaiah 62:5

This has been a whirlwind couple of weeks for our family. As you know, our son Josh married the love of his life, Lisa Marie Kaus, on Saturday, July 19th. The wedding was simply wonderful from beginning to end. We are still savoring the priceless memories from that very special day. Lisa was a beautiful, elegant bride and Josh looked so handsome in his tuxedo. His eyes welled up with tears when he saw Lisa – a vision in white walking down the isle towards him.

Fr. Keith from St. Isadore’s gave a very touching sermon that was very personal to Josh & Lisa. They both just adore him, and he is also very fond of them, so their mutual admiration came across throughout the ceremony. When Fr. Keith talked about the “miracle of Lisa” and “the miracle of Josh” and how their meeting and marriage was another miracle, Keen and I both had tears in our eyes, and I’m sure Lisa’s parents, Gary & Linda did, too. But the time I cried the most was when Josh and Lisa gave their grandparents and parents a hug during the sign of peace portion of the Mass. Lisa has always called me Eileen, but when she gave me a hug she said, “Peace be with you….Mom.”

The reception was held at the Houston Street Ballroom. Complete Music did an excellent job leading the crowd in song and dance. The big surprise of the evening came when Josh and three of his groomsmen donned costumes and performed the YMCA song. One of the most touching moments was when Lisa danced with her dad and Josh danced with me to Trace Adkin’s new song, “Then they do.” It’s a song about how when our children are small we don’t think they’ll ever grow up….and then they do.

I tried to find a copy of this other song by Gary Allan, but it’s so new it’s not available in stores yet. It’s called “Tough Little Boys.”

Well I know one day, I’ll give you away
And I’m gonna stand there and smile
But when I get home and I’m all alone
I’ll sit in your room for a while…

When tough little boys grow up to be dads
They turn into big babies again

I thought that would’ve been the perfect song for Lisa’s dad since he had a pretty hard time with the idea of his little girl getting married. But when someone asked him how he was feeling at the rehearsal dinner he said, “The way I see it, I’m not losing a daughter, I’m gaining a son.” Josh is very blessed to be marrying into such a loving and supportive family.

One of the highlights of the reception came when Josh and Lisa surprised both of their parents with a separate cake (a smaller version of their cake that Lisa’s aunt made) to commemorate our 25th wedding anniversaries. Gary & Linda celebrated their 25th on April 15 (coincidentally, that’s Josh’s birthday), and Keen and I celebrated ours on June 10th. Then they had a 5x7 framed picture of each of us on our wedding day. We cut the cake and fed it to each other and crossed arms while we drank from our wine glasses. I was so overwhelmed by their thoughtfulness. I turned to Linda and said, “Can you believe these two? This is their special day and they’re sharing it with us. They’re just too good to be true.”

But the most touching moment of the entire day came during one of the final dances of the evening. Josh and Lisa started out dancing together, but someone came up to talk to Josh so Lisa joined her Mom and Dad and the three of them danced together. I could hardly contain myself from crying at the tender scene of Gary with one arm around his wife and the other arm around his daughter. Both of them were leaning on his chest and they all had their eyes closed as they swayed slowly to the music. The song playing in the background was:

We've got tonight
Who needs tomorrow?
Let's make it last
Let’s find a way
Come take my hand now
We've got tonight
Why don't you stay?

It seemed as though they were just clinging to one another as they cherished one last precious moment together before they had to say goodbye. It was a beautiful sight that I will never forget as long as I live.

I’d like to close this week’s article with a prayer that was published in the Topeka Capital-Journal on June 15, 2002. It was written by Alma Weber of Topeka. This is not only my prayer for Josh and Lisa, but for each of you as well.

“May your path be bright and full of light everywhere you go. May God tell darkness that it must flee at your command. And may your feet never stumble out of God’s plan. May the desires of your heart come true, and may you, this day, experience peace in everything you do. May goodness, kindness and mercy come your way, and may you gain wisdom and grow in the Lord this day. May God bless you with unspeakable joy, not only in the world to come, but also on this very day. May God touch my life this day to care and bless all those who come my way and may I touch all with a gentle heart and healing hand. Lord, may this day be a blessed one. Amen.”

The Wedding

The Littlest Fireman

“Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.” ~ Mark 10:14

Recently I received an email story about a six year old boy named Billy who was dying of leukemia. One day the boy’s young mother asked her son a question.

“Billy, did you ever think about what you wanted to be once you grew up? Did you ever dream about what you would do with your life?"

“Mommy,” he replied, “I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up."

Billy’s mom smiled and set out to see if she could make her son’s wish come true. Later that day she went to the local fire department where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big as Phoenix. She explained her son's final wish and asked if it might be possible to give her six-year-old a ride around the block on a fire engine.

The fire chief replied, “We can do one better than that.” And they did. Billy was made an honorary fireman for a day and was allowed to go on all the fire calls with the crew. He was in seventh heaven riding in the fire engines that day. It meant so much to Billy to have his dream come true. The local news even covered the special event.

Billy lived three months longer than anyone expected, but one night his vital signs started dropping dramatically. The head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept that no one should die alone, began to call the family members to the hospital. Then she remembered the day Billy spent as a fireman, so she called the fire chief and asked if it would be possible to send a uniformed fireman to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition. The chief replied, "We can do one better than that.” And they did.

A short while later, the Phoenix fire department arrived at the hospital to visit “one of their finest” one last time. A hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital and extended its ladder up to Billy's third floor window. Sixteen firefighters climbed into Billy's room and each one lined up to give Billy a hug. With his dying breath, Billy looked up at the fire chief and said, "Chief, am I really a fireman now?" "Yes Billy, you are. And the Head Chief is holding your hand." Billy smiled and said, "I know, He's been holding my hand all day, and the angels have been singing." Then he closed his eyes one last time.

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

After I forwarded a copy of this story to a friend of mine in Phoenix, he sent it on to a friend of his in Alabama named Cindy. Her response to the article included another touching story about a little girl from her church. With Cindy’s permission, I’d like to share that story with you.


Reading the story of Billy brought tears to my eyes and made me think of the miracle child I know in my life.

We have a little girl in my church who is the world's oldest and might be the only survivor of a rare brain cancer. When she was four, her parents noticed their daughter was limping. She was suddenly diagnosed with a brain tumor and was rushed to St. Jude’s Hospital. Her tumor turned out to be a rare form of cancer, and her prognosis was not good at all. She had surgery, and endured several rounds of chemo that took about nine months to complete.

The side effects of the chemo were devastating, yet she went through it with a strength and endurance most adults would have folded under. She came back, with no hair, stunted growth, pale complexion, and a smile that would light up the entire church. At that time, there were three survivors of this cancer in the world. She seemed to have beaten the cancer until last summer, when her limp came back. She had two more deadly tumors, and was sent back to St. Jude’s for almost another year of surgery and chemo.

As of now, she is cancer free. She walks with a limp and needs a leg brace because one of the newer tumors ate into the motor area of her brain. She is still the size of a four year old, even though she is now eight years old. She wears a hat because all the chemo has pretty much permanently made her lose her hair. She limps up the aisle on her own each Sunday to get Communion, and comes back with that famous smile that lights up the entire church. She has taught us all to embrace life, be joyful for what we have, and to thank God each day for our health, our families, our friends, and all the other blessings we have that we take for granted.

She is a walking miracle that will always touch people's hearts when they meet her. No one knows her future, how long she has to live, if the cancer will return or remain in remission. But, she is content with her life, and never gives up or shows she is down at any time.

Josh & Lisa

“Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.”
Genesis 2:24

This coming Saturday, July 19th, will be a very special day for our family. It is the day that our second oldest son, Joshua Jim, will marry his high school sweetheart, Lisa Marie Kaus.

In my first column I mentioned that I have kept journals most of my life. After our children came along, I started recording the funny things they said (or did) in a separate journal. Lately I’ve been reading through Josh’s journal and found a few quotes that I’d like to share from when he was about 6 years old.

“When I get married I’m gonna ask the girl, ‘Do you hate potatoes? Do you hate peas?” When I asked him why, he answered, “Cuz I hate peas and potatoes and I don’t want her to make them for me. They’re sorta like my enemies!”

“I don’t want to be a doctor when I grow up because it looks like a lot of hard work and it seems like a difficult job.” (Josh will be starting med school at KU this fall.)

At lunch one day he said, “I’m not sure if I’m going to get married. It depends….. if a girl likes me. It will be so embarrassing to get married and have all those people staring at me!”

One time at breakfast he said, “I can’t wait until I’m 18.” His older brother Jared asked him why and he replied, “So I can have a girlfriend, silly!”

Nearly everyone within a 30 mile radius of our home has heard this story, but I’ll go ahead and share it anyway. Josh and Lisa started dating during their senior year at Manhattan High (Josh had transferred there when he was a junior), and my husband had the opportunity to meet Lisa before I did. When I asked him what he thought of Josh’s new girlfriend he replied, “What did I think of her? She’s got daughter-in-law written all over her.” I have to admit that I had the same feeling after I met Lisa, too. I guess you could say it was love at first sight for the entire family!

Lisa Marie Kaus is one in a million. She’s sweet, pretty, hard working, God-fearing and intelligent (she graduated cum laude from Kansas State and is going to become an RN). But most importantly, she loves our son with all of her heart and soul. Lisa is everything anyone could ever ask for in a daughter-in-law and we thank God for blessing Josh with such a wonderful woman. Needless to say, we are elated about their upcoming marriage.

Last Saturday I spent the day assembling the wedding programs with Lisa and her mom, Linda. In addition to the standard information contained in a traditional wedding program, Josh and Lisa wrote about how they met as well as a short paragraph about each person in their wedding party. Lisa wrote about her maid of honor and bridesmaids (three cousins and a friend), and Josh wrote about his best man (Keener) and three groomsmen (Kirk, best friend, Travis Guth and Lisa’s brother, Aaron). Tears came to my eyes as I read the loving tributes Josh and Lisa paid to the members of their wedding party.

When I turned to the back page of the program, I was also touched to see that they had included a poem I had written several years ago titled, Roots and Wings.

Roots and Wings

Some people say,
there are only two things,
that you can give your children,
one is roots; the other, wings.

They'll have their share of ups and downs,
at times the skies will be bleak,
but we must allow them to spread their wings,
even if they bump their beaks!

It's hard to know when to let them go,
some are ready sooner than others,
but no matter when that time comes,
it's always hard on their mothers!

But deep down in our heart of hearts,
we have always known,
we can't keep them with us forever,
one day they will be on their own.

And we really wouldn't want it,
any other way,
we have to allow them to fly and be free,
even though we wish they could stay.

So we'll raise our children
with faith, hope and love,
and a prayer that God will watch over them
From Heaven up above.

Then when the time arrives,
for them to leave the nest,
we'll wave good-bye with a tear in our eye,
knowing that we've been blessed.

Josh & Lisa

Keener's Birthday

“Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord, and the fruit of the womb is His reward.”

~ Psalms 127:3

This past Tuesday, July 8th, our third son turned 19 years old. He was my special gift that year, born just five days after my birthday. I wanted to name him Jacob Keen and call him Jake, just to avoid the confusion that goes along with having a junior. But when we looked at him it was if the name “Keen” was tattooed on his forehead. Then my husband told me he would be bursting with pride to have a son named after him (for some reason we had never even considered it with our first two boys). I continued to lobby for Jake, but it just seemed like our new little son was looking up at us saying, “My name is Keen; you can try to name me something else, but my name is Keen.” So Keen it was. Officially, his name is Keen Alfred Umbehr II, which is not only derived from his father, but also from his paternal great-grandfather Keen and his paternal great-great grandfather Alfred.

Eventually we came up with a nickname for him: Keener. When he was little he would correct us if we called him Keen. He’d say, “I’m not Keen - I’m Keener!” Or, “I’m not son, I’m Keener!” Then when we got it right he’d say, “That’s more like it!”

One time when he was about nine years old he told me that when he grew up he was going to get married and have two kids – a boy and a girl. The girl was going to be named Christine and the boy was going to be named Keen. “So I can keep up the tradition.” I remember thinking, “What in the world does a nine year old know about tradition?”

The following poem was written by Keen’s best friend in high school, Rachel Ann Yancey. With her permission, I’d like to share it with you.

He is quiet in his own way,
Afraid to maybe go too far away.
He wears what is clean.
Worries he is overweight or too lean.
There is no joke he does not know,
So don’t even try or give it a go.
He gets nervous when he drives.
And he hopes to live a million lives.
Things he does not understand amaze him,
And things he knows too much about confuse him.
He cannot tell a lie,
And when conversing, you best look him in the eye.
Freckles cover his face and arms,
He is full of laughter and charm.
Try if you might to break his will,
But he will hold still and still.
He is out to please everyone,
But will take advice from only One.
There is something magical in his eye.
Something you don’t see on every guy.
That is what draws me to his side.
His intense and powerful pride,
Will forever keep him in memories to pass,
Till the only one left is his very last.

Keener's Birthday

Do it Afraid

Dear Prairie Post Readers,

My name is Eileen Umbehr and I would like to introduce you to my new column, "Reflections." Joann Kahnt has graciously agreed to allow me to express myself on the pages of her paper.

Most of you have read my poems about my kids, my husband or my sister's difficult marriage. Don't ask me why, but I really enjoy sharing my thoughts and feelings with others. It's kind of a paradox, really, because I'm actually a very private person in one sense. Keen and I love living in the country where the only thing we see when we look out our window is the beauty of nature. We do have one neighbor, but they have the most beautiful yard you've ever seen (it puts ours to shame!), so we enjoy that view as well.

All my life I have enjoyed writing. I’ve kept journals (off and on) since I was 15 years old. I wrote letters to our grandmother in Pennsylvania and compiled poems for members of my family on their birthdays. Poetry and writing has always been a great form of self expression for me.

But after I hit the "send" button on the email I sent to Joann asking her what she thought about my idea for a column, my stomach starting doing flip flops. "What was I thinking?" I asked myself. But there was no turning back. Then when I saw Joann's response in my "new mail," I had butterflies once again as I anticipated her response.

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" (which I've heard appears 365 times in the Bible), 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.


Eileen Umbehr