Our Soldier

“It is right that I should feel as I do … for you have a very special place in my heart… God knows how much I love you….” ~ Philippians 1:7,8 (NLT)

And I will always do my duty,
no matter what the price,
I've counted up the cost,
I know the sacrifice.

Oh, and I don't want to die for you,
but if dyin’s asked of me,
I'll bear that cross with honor
‘cause freedom don't come free.

I'm an American soldier, an American
Beside my brothers and my sisters, I will proudly take a stand,
When liberty's in jeopardy, I will always do what's right,
I'm out here on the front lines, sleep in peace tonight.
I'm an American Soldier…an American.
“American Soldier” performed by Toby Keith

On May 10th, our firstborn son, Jared Joseph, will turn twenty-five years old. Jared has always been the light of our life, and now he is the light of his wife’s life (Erin) – and their two sons (Asher and Gabriel).

Jared graduated from Wabaunsee High School in 1997 and attended Kansas State University for about a year and a half. After concluding that he hated school, and school hated him, his Grandpa Van Kirk suggested that he might want to consider going into the military. Jared was adamantly opposed to the idea, as evidenced by his declaration that he would rather pull his fingernails out one by one than join the armed forces.

But then September 11th happened and everything changed. With Erin’s support, Jared decided to enlist in the United States Navy.

No one was more surprised than we were by Jared’s announcement. I asked him what when through his mind when he made the decision to enlist, and he replied, “When I saw those planes hit the towers and realized our country under attack, I just felt like every generation has their war to fight and this is our generation’s turn.” We were never prouder of our son than we were at that moment.

This is a poem I wrote after Jared had been in the Navy for about a year.

Where’s Daddy, Grandma?
By Eileen Umbehr

The other day I was talking
on the phone
with our three-year-old grandson,
who lives in Ohio

He was telling me about the snow,
and his little brother, Gabe
and about the paper airplane,
his other grandma made

When all of a sudden,
out of the blue
he asked me a question,
so innocent and true

“Where’s Daddy, Grandma?”
he asked me point blank
tears filled my eyes,
and my heart just sank

How do I explain,
that his daddy went away
to fight for our country –
that’s why he couldn’t stay

He’s too young to understand,
that when Daddy saw the towers burn
He said, “Every generation has their war to fight,
and this is our generation’s turn.”

So I just tried to keep it simple,
but his little voice sounded so sad
“He had to go back to the Navy?
I’m gonna miss my Dad.”

Yes, those who serve our country,
aren’t the only ones who sacrifice;
it’s their spouses and their children,
who also pay a heavy price

But we are proud of our son,
and his wife and children, too
Because the price they pay for freedom,
they pay for me and you.

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

Jared is an E-5 in Special Forces; specifically, he is a Special Warfare Combatant Craft Crewman (SWCCC). Their duties involve the insertion and extraction of Navy Seals. At his graduation ceremony in Coronado, California last June, Jared was selected as “honor man” and received special recognition for his academic and physical achievement, positive attitude and determination during the rigorous training.

Jared’s task unit is officially deployable now, having just completed the final phase of their training. For obvious reasons, we are hoping that he doesn’t see active combat; however, he is hoping that he does. He said it might be hard for us to understand, but after spending three years of his life training, he wants the opportunity to put what he learned to use. “I didn’t join the Navy to sit behind a desk,” he said. “I really didn’t.” So we have to put Jared in God’s hands and pray that he and all the other American soldiers will be protected from harm.

The journals I kept when Jared was a young boy repeatedly make reference to what a tenderhearted child he was. I remember when Josh came along everyone warned us that Jared might become jealous. But that was never the case. Even though Jared was only 2 years old, he was always very nurturing with Josh. He would hold him in the rocking chair and say, “Ahhhh, baby Josh.” One time I was carrying Josh while he was crying and Jared tried to cheer him up by dancing around and acting silly. “Is he happy now, Mom?” he asked.

One night when he was three years old Keen and I were sitting and talking and Jared just looked over at us and said, “I want to give you a kiss and a hug, kids.” When we told him he was special he said, “You’re special, too, mommy and daddy.” He used to love wrestling with his Dad. He’d say, “Hey Dad – you wanna razzle dazzle me?”

When Jared was about six years old he said, “It’ll be kind of sad when I grow up and become a father and you’ll have to let me go. But you’ll still have Josh cuz he has a ways to go yet before he grows up.”

Here’s an excerpt from when Jared was 8 years old. He had just spent his own money to buy me a “gold” quartz watch ring for my 29th birthday. I was so touched, I just cried and cried.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d like it or not, Mom. But you really like it a lot, I can see. I thought about getting this necklace with colored beads but then I didn’t think that would be too neat. Then I was gonna buy you this thing you put in your hair that looks like a knife is going through your head. I thought that would be kind of unusual. But then I decided you’d like the ring best. You know, it looked like something a woman would like to wear – so delicate – and when another woman saw it she’d wish she had one.”

August 11, 1989 (age 10)

Today Jared came up to me and said, “Wait. I want to see how tall I am up to you. Look, I’m up to your neck.” When I told him that he was going to pass me up pretty soon, he said, “Yeah. Then you’ll have to look up to me and see how I felt when I was a little kid.”

I’ve always looked up to you, Jared…
and I always will.

P.S. This is something I wrote for Jared & Josh in 1997

To Jared & Josh on their 18th & 16th Birthdays



In this picture, you were one and three
Two peas in a pod, so full of glee.

Now you're young men and fully grown
Where have the years gone? My, how they've flown.

Your father and I love you, more than words can say
And we wish you all life's best, on your special birthdays.

Love,

Mom & Dad

Jared Joseph Umbehr
Born May 10, 1979

Our Entrepreneur

“And whatsoever ye do, do [it] heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men; Knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward…..” ~ Colossians 3:23,24

“Doing your own thing is a generous act. Being gifted creates obligations, which means you owe the world your best effort at the work you love. You too are a natural resource.”

~ Barbara Sher (1795 - 1881) Scottish essayist, historian

Ever since our son Josh was a little boy, he’s been talking about what he wanted to be when he grew up – everything from jumping out of airplanes to being in the circus. “I’ll have a buddy who will tie me up and see if I can get out,” he’d say.

One day when he was about four or five years old, he decided he wanted to try to earn money as a bed maker. “If you want to, you have to sign up with me and pay me,” he explained. I guess he figured that would be a service everyone could use. He even knocked on a few doors around our neighborhood, but when he didn’t have any takers, he was so dejected he laid his head on his daddy’s chest for the longest time. When his older brother Jared walked in the room and proceeded to tell his dad what happened, Josh blurted out, “I know Jared! Don’t make me thadder!”

Another time he told me he was going to have a stand that sold things for Halloween. Then when Halloween was over, he would sell Christmas things, and in the summer he would change it into a fruit stand.

One day Josh asked whether you get paid money for being a dad. I said, “No, you become a dad when you have children and you work at a job to earn money.” Then I asked him if he was going to have kids when he grew up (despite the fact that he wouldn’t get paid for it).

“Yep,” he answered. “Two. Cindy and Lucy. Cindy will be the girl and Lucy will be a boy.”

Here are a few other examples from a journal I kept when Josh was growing up.

“I can’t wait until I’m in high school so I can take daddy’s place in the trash truck. But he’ll have to teach me how to drive it and tell me what all the parts are so when one breaks apart I’ll know which one to buy to fix it. He’ll have to teach me how to use everything in the shop, too. But I don’t have to go to college to learn how to be a trash man – Dad can just teach me how.”

*******

“Mom, you know what I’m gonna be when I grow up? A showfolk.”

*******

“I might go to the Air Force with Jared or whatever job he goes to I might go with him. I’d move into a huge house right next to him so we’d be neighbors. I’d move when he moves. I’ll know when he’s moving when I see a For Sale sign in the yard.”

*******

“I want to be an artist and be rich and I’ll give you guys some money. Maybe one or two bucks, if I make that much. I’ll ride around on my motorcycle selling my pictures. But I won’t just sell pictures; I’ll sell crayons, markers, paints, paint brushes and paper.”

*******

“There are so many jobs I just don’t know which one to choose.” I told him he just had to be a kid now and he won’t have to decide for a long time.

Well, a long time has passed and Josh isn’t a kid any more – on April 15, he’ll celebrate his 23rd birthday. After weighing all the possibilities, Josh finally settled on becoming a doctor. Here’s an excerpt from a letter he wrote describing his first few weeks at medical school:

In the morning, a faculty person and an M2 (second year medical student) both talked about the reason why we are here. Not the grades or the glory, but for the patients – the patients at the KU hospital now and the patients we will see ourselves in the future. They said that although the grades are important, the real reason we are here is to know, understand, and be able to remember and use the information we learn to provide the best treatment that we can— and that the patients are the greatest teachers that we have. Our professors can teach us about the science of medicine, but only the patients can really teach us the ‘art’ of medicine.
They really seem to have a lot of respect for the patients and the whole healthcare team. They talked a lot about being respectful of the entire healthcare staff like nurses and physical therapists, and pharmacists and CNA's. One student said: “Respect those nurses because they WILL know stuff that you won’t because they have different training than you do, and rely on them because they are well-trained professionals.” I was really glad to hear that they focus so much on respecting nurses, especially since Lisa will be a nurse soon. I know she was happy to hear this when I told her about my day.

It was great having you, dad, and Kirk over the other night – Lisa and I loved it. Maybe we can do it again and take you guys out around KC.

Love,

Josh

Before I conclude this birthday tribute to Josh, I have to write about what a loving son he has always been. One night when he was almost five years old, I attended a Christmas Cantata at a church in Alma. When I came home, all the boys were asleep with the exception of Josh. He said, “Me and Jared missed you, Mom.” Then he started whispering, “Jared, Jared.” When I asked him what he was doing he said, “I want to tell Jared you’re home.” Keen said I had only been gone a few minutes when they were both asking, “Where’s Mommy? When will Mommy be home?”

Some of his other memorable remarks were:
“Mom, you know how much I love you? One hundred per cent!”
“Mom, you’re the best mom I ever had”
“I love you with all my love.”

One day he was heading off to kindergarten and as he walked out the door he turned around to blow me a kiss. So I kissed him and said, “Josh, you are the sweetest, kindest, most loveable boy in the whole world.” He replied, “I’m just filled with love!”

I’d like to close with a poem Josh wrote for Keen and me when he was a 17-year-old high school senior, living on his own in Manhattan.

I can't pay you for the things you do
All the milk and cleaning too

When I'm at my worst
You're always there to hug me tight
Then share with me your wisdom
And lead me back to your light

I know it wasn't easy for you to let me go
My how God blessed us so
He's given us the courage to try something new
And through it all, HIS strength has shown through

To be loved by you is such a wonderful thing
You'll never know, how much joy, to me, it brings
I wish DAD the best of luck in Law School
And pray MOM'S book will be a best seller

But no matter what you'll always be the best parents in the whole wide world.

The end

LOVE,

JOSH

On your birthday, Josh, we thank God for blessing us with the wonder of you. It’s been our privilege to watch you grow from a young boy into such a fine man and loving husband. We know that those whose lives you touch will be equally blessed by your special gifts.

“Therefore we also pray always for you that our God would count you worthy of this calling …that the name of our Lord Jesus Christ may be glorified in you, and you in Him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.”

~ II Thessalonians 1:11, 12 (NKJV)

With all our love,

Mom & Dad

P.S. This is something I wrote last year for Josh’s 22nd birthday

Just Yesterday

Our second-born son just turned twenty-two
Could that be possible? Could that be true?

Didn’t he just learn how to walk?
Didn’t he just learn how to talk?
Wasn’t he just in his pre-school play?

Wasn’t that just yesterday?

Didn’t he just lose his front tooth?
Didn’t he just make friends with Travis Guth?
Didn’t he just celebrate his 8th birthday?

Wasn’t that just yesterday?

Didn’t he just learn how to ride a bike?
Didn’t his dad and brothers just build their own kite?
Didn’t he just get his license last May?

Wasn’t that just yesterday?

Now he’s graduating from college and off to med school
And in July he’ll marry his precious jewel

Didn’t we just bring him home from the hospital that day?

Wasn’t that just yesterday?

Joshua Jim Umbehr
Born April 15, 1981

Miraculous Provision

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?"

~ Matthew 6:25-27

The other night I was watching “It’s a Miracle” on PAX TV – a half hour program hosted by Roma Downey – and they shared the story about a woman who had been recently divorced and was struggling to make ends meet. One Thanksgiving morning she awoke feeling desperate and afraid because she only had two hot dogs left to feed herself and her two little boys. But she wanted to try to make the day as special as possible, so they all went to the park and had a cookout. On their way home, the boys were complaining that they were still hungry. Then, just as they were climbing the stairs to their apartment, a kind little old lady emerged from the apartment below. “Sweetie,” the woman said, “I’ve prepared a Thanksgiving meal and I’d like to invite you and your boys to join me.” The young family was overjoyed by the invitation. Once they entered the apartment, they couldn’t believe their eyes. The table was beautifully set with a complete Thanksgiving feast. They enjoyed the turkey with all the trimmings, and the woman even sent them home with enough leftovers to last for a week.

The true magnitude of the miracle wasn’t realized until a few days later when the young mother went to the woman’s apartment to return her leftover dishes. When nobody answered the door, she peeked in the window and was astonished to see that the apartment was completely empty. She went straight to the landlord’s apartment to inquire about the woman in the downstairs apartment. The landlord seemed bewildered as he explained that the apartment had been vacant for over two months.

“In all my 57 years,” the woman explained, “that hour and a half of unconditional love changed my life more than any other single event.”

As a result of her experience, the woman decided to devote her life to working with the homeless and went on to win a presidential award for her work.

**********

There is a similar story of miraculous provision in one of my favorite books, Where Angels Walk by Joan Wester Anderson. In September of 1944, Kenneth Ware and his wife Suzie were living in Switzerland with their son when they found themselves penniless. So Suzie decided to pray very specifically. She told God that she needed “…five pounds of potatoes, two pounds of pastry flour, apples, pears, a cauliflower, carrots, veal cutlets for Saturday, and beef for Sunday.”

Just a few hours later Suzie heard a knock on their door. When she answered it, she saw a man standing in the doorway carrying a basket of groceries. He was between thirty and forty years old, “…over six feet tall and strong looking, with blue eyes, white-blond hair, and a long blue apron over his work clothes.” He seemed radiant and glowing.

“Mrs. Ware,” the gentleman announced, “I’m bringing you what you asked for.”

“There must be some mistake,” Suzie replied. “I have not ordered anything.” She thought perhaps he had come to the wrong apartment.

The man ignored her question and repeated his former statement. “I am bringing what you asked for.” Then he walked back to the kitchen and emptied the basket. There on the table were the exact items Suzie had requested from God that very morning. She was in utter shock.

“I turned to apologize, to explain that I hadn’t a coin to give him, but his look of reproach sealed my lips.”

**********

Throughout our lifetime, Keen and I have seen God miraculously provide for our needs time and time again. Back in 1979, when Keen was working for the Wabaunsee County Weed Department and his take home pay was only $688.00/month, it wasn’t easy to make the money stretch. Just a few days before I was due to deliver our firstborn child, I was crying at the kitchen table, wondering how we were going to make it. It was only the 7th day of the month and after paying all of our bills, we were already out of money. So Keen told me to repeat this one Bible verse over and over. “My God shall supply all my needs according to His riches in glory.” (Philippians 4:19) It wasn’t easy, but I did it.

This time God chose my mother to be His angel on earth. When Mom arrived to help care for Jared, she noticed the bare cupboards and graciously filled them.
Here’s a poem I wrote to thank Mom for everything she did for us that week.

The day you left, Keen and I prayed,
and asked the Lord to show us a way
That we could show you how we appreciate
All you did for us during your stay.

You gave me security in my newfound role,
You built my confidence day by day.
Just knowing you were in the next room, Mom
Made all my fears go away.

You cooked all our meals and washed all our clothes,
You did dishes from morning till night;
You showed me how to give Jared a bath,
So now I’m doing it right.

You bought us many groceries, which we surely did need,
And with them you kept us well fed;
And on those mornings when I needed my rest,
You even brought me breakfast in bed!

You helped me burp Jared, when my arms grew so weary,
And you cleaned him up when he messed;
You stayed up with me for those late night feedings,
Mom, you were just the best!

You bought us all those things at K-Mart that day,
And you even cleaned our house.
I couldn’t have done it without you, Mom
For I was as weak as a mouse.

We can’t fail to mention all the joy that you brought us,
Just by your company;
One night we watched a Snoopy special,
And the next night we played Monopoly.

You “oohed and ahhed” over Jared all day,
Just like a grandma should do;
You made us so proud of our little son,
That we even chimed in, too.

You took us to dinner for chicken that night,
What a treat for both Keen and me;
It was just such fun having you, Mom,
You were a part of our family.

Although you did many other things,
I think we will close it here,
By saying we love you and thank you, Mom,
To our hearts you will always be dear.

In the Old Testament there is a story about a widow woman who was down to her last little bit of oil and flour. She entreated the prophet Elisha to help her, lest her sons be sold into slavery to satisfy her debts. Elisha instructed the woman to borrow as many vessels as she could from all her neighbors and start filling them with oil. Miraculously, the oil multiplied until all the vases were full.

“Then she came and told the man of God. And he said, Go, sell the oil, and pay your debt, and you and your sons live on the rest.” ~ II Kings 4:1-7

That reminds me of the New Testament story about Jesus multiplying the loaves and the fishes to feed the multitudes. Sometime later, the disciples once again became worried about how they were going to feed the crowds. Jesus said:

“Do you not remember the five loaves of the five thousand, and how many small hand baskets you gathered? Nor the seven loaves for the four thousand, and how many large provision baskets you took up?”

~ Matthew 16:8-10

In closing, I’d like to share a story which talks about the way God supernaturally provided for Moses and the Israelites in the desert.

"I have led you forty years in the wilderness; your clothes have not worn out upon you, and your sandals have not worn off your feet.... that you might recognize and know [your dependence on Him who is saying], I am the Lord your God."

~ Deuteronomy 29:5, 6b

After escaping from slavery in Egypt, Moses and the Israelites journeyed in the desert for forty years. According to the Quartermaster General in the Army, Moses would have needed 1500 tons of food and 11,000,000 gallons of water each day to provide for the needs of 2 -3 million people. God alone provided their needs by sending manna from Heaven and water from the flinty rock. Then they had to cross the Red Sea, which required a pretty major miracle right there. Moses couldn’t possibly have thought all this out before he left Egypt. He simply obeyed God’s command and told Pharaoh to let his people go; then he trusted God with all the details.

If God provided for all their needs forty years in the wilderness, then He is more than able to take care of all of our needs, too.

“…He Himself has said, I will not in any way fail you nor give you up nor leave you without support. I will not, I will not, I will not in any degree leave you helpless, nor forsake you nor let you down, relax My hold on you. Assuredly not!”

~ Hebrews 13:5 (Amplified)

Kirk Van, Our Little Man

“For I was my father’s son, tender and beloved in the sight of my mother.”

~ Proverbs 4:3

We shared the same last name and the same color eyes
But we fought like tigers over that old red bike
I’m battin' first and you can't use my glove
It wouldn't take long 'til push came to shove
But, we looked out for each other with Brotherly Love

“Brotherly Love” ~ Duet performed by Keith Whitley and Earl Thomas Conley

On April 2nd, our fourth and youngest son, Kirk Van, will turn 15 years old. By the time Kirk arrived, we had already honored nearly every male member of the family, so Kirk’s name was derived from my maiden name – Van Kirk. (Since we knew we were going to call him Kirk, we just reversed the order.) When Kirk was born people commented that we almost had enough boys to form a basketball team and Keen said, “We already do, if I play.”

Kirk was an adorable and sweet baby, even though he didn’t sleep through the night until he was 8 months old. We finally learned that he was allergic to milk. After switching him to soy milk, he slept like a baby and so did I.

Kirk has always been a great communicator. When he was little, he could talk your ear off. One day when Kirk was playing with toys in the living room he asked me a question as I was passing through to the kitchen. I was having a bad day and had reached the end of my rope so I just didn’t respond. Then I heard his puzzled little voice say, “Hmmmm….she just yooked at me.”

Another time we were shopping and he asked me where we were going next. Rather than go into a long explanation about all the errands we had to run that day, I tried to take a short cut by simply replying, “We’re going out to the van.” But no such luck –he wasn’t fooled. “No! I mean, where are we going after we go to the van?”

Another one of Kirk’s attributes is that he has always loved to organize things and be in charge. We used to say he would’ve run the whole household if we let him. One day Keen decided to let Kirk ride along in the trash truck while he picked up a small commercial route in Alma. After he asked his dad how many customers he had to pick up, Kirk got a little notebook and numbered the page from 1 to 20. Then every time Keen would empty a dumpster, Kirk would say, “check” and make a big checkmark by that number.

One time he went with his dad to deliver a dumpster to the home of a man who was doing some remodeling. Kirk overheard Keen tell the man that he would keep an eye on the dumpster and empty it whenever it was full. A couple weeks later, Keen received an “urgent call” from Kirk on his cell phone. He was calling to tell his dad that the dumpster was full and needed to be emptied. When Keen asked Kirk if the man had called, Kirk replied, “No. I was just driving by on my bike and noticed it was full.”

When Kirk was about 4 or 5 years old, Keen took him down to his shop while he did some work on the trash truck. Bad idea. Kirk walked in some mud and got stuck and then he knocked over a coffee can full of oil. In exasperation, Keen said, “That’s it, Kirk – you’re fired!” Well, Kirk didn’t know what that meant, but he knew he didn’t like the sounds of it one little bit! The poor little guy was utterly devastated. When he came home later, he cried, “Mommy, Mommy! Daddy tell me I’m fired and I don’t wanna be fired!”

Kirk loved playing with his three older brothers and vice-versa. They have always been each other’s best friends. One day, after his oldest brother Jared had moved out of the house, Kirk said, “I’m a Jared-holic. Whenever Jared comes over to the house and stays for a while to play with me, then I don’t want him to leave.”
This is a poem I wrote five years ago for Keener and Kirk.

15 & 10
By Eileen Umbehr

My two precious boys,
ages fifteen and ten,
a five year difference
yet still the best of friends.

Last night they decided
to take a camping trip,
so they got right to work
and came up with a list.

Hot dogs, marshmallows,
graham crackers, too;
fishing poles, worms,
and Dad’s box of tools.

A tent and some sleeping bags,
pillows and matches;
flashlights and bug spray,
and first aid patches.

At last they were ready,
the preparations were done;
it was time to embark
on their evening of fun.

The night air was cool,
but they made a fire,
then talked and ate smores,
until they grew tired.

They slept under the stars
then woke up with the birds,
and the cowboys in the pasture,
calling their herds.
It was a night to remember;
a special memory,
of when they were young;
footloose and fancy-free.

One day they’ll be thirty and twenty-five,
but they’ll always remember when,
they laughed and shared good times, so long ago,
back when they were fifteen and ten.

When Josh and Lisa got married last summer, they each wrote a little paragraph about all the members of the wedding party. Josh wrote about his groomsmen and Lisa wrote about her bridesmaids. Here’s what Josh had to say about Kirk:

“As the youngest of four boys, Kirk has survived purely out of sheer determination. He has had to survive the years of three older brothers taunting, teasing, and rough-housing with him. Through it all he has earned the nickname, “Little Man.” And what a great young man he is becoming, albeit not so little anymore. There is a little bit of each of us in Kirk; Jared’s sense of humor, Keen’s style and charisma, and my work ethic. I can’t wait to see what the Lord has in store for him in the coming years.”

The picture of me with Kirk below was taken when he was 10 months old. My mom always told me to get a picture of myself with each of the kids when they were babies, and I did. But this picture is special. You see, my mother passed away when Kirk was just five weeks old. The dress I’m wearing in the picture was one of my Mom’s and the outfit Kirk is wearing was the one she bought for him before she died.

Build Me a Son
By General Douglas A. MacArthur

Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid; one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory.

Build me a son whose wishbone will not be where his backbone should be; a son who will know Thee – and that to know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge.

Lead him, I pray, not in the path of ease and comfort, but under the stress and spur of difficulties and challenge. Here, let him learn to stand up in the storm; here, let him learn compassion for those who fall.

Build me a son whose heart will be clear, whose goals will be high; a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men; one who will learn to laugh, yet never forget how to weep; one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past.

And after all these things are his, add, I pray, enough of a sense of humor, so that he may always be serious, yet never take himself too seriously. Give him humility, so that he may always remember the simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, the meekness of true strength. Then I, his father, will dare to whisper, “I have not lived in vain.”

“For you are our glory and joy.”
~ I Thessalonians 2:20 (RSV)

Happy 15th birthday, Kirk Van. We love you!

P.S. This is a poem I wrote when Kirk was six months old

For Kirk
You are the youngest of our four sons
Our pride and joy, our precious one

You were sent to us from God above
To fill our hearts and home with love

Although having a girl
Would be a dream come true
That doesn’t mean
We regret having you



Just one look
at your smiling face
And we forget all about
those ruffles and lace

Loving you, holding you
Makes our heart sing
Kirk, we wouldn’t trade you
For anything!

Kirk Van Umbehr
Born April 2, 1989

Letting Go

“God [is] our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea…" ~ Psalms 46:1,2

She's had 18 years, to get ready for this day
She should be past the tears, she cries some anyway.
Oh, oh letting go
There's nothing in the way now,
Oh, letting go
There's room enough to fly
And even though, she's spent her whole life waiting,
It's never easy… letting go.

“Letting Go” ~ recorded by Suzy Bogguss

Letting go of our children is probably one of the most challenging aspects of parenthood. When my husband was in the first grade he announced to his mother that he was running away. Much to his surprise, his mom didn't waste any time packing him a lunch. She even made a little knapsack and tied it to the end of a stick for him. Then she kissed him good bye, wished him Godspeed and closed the sliding doors behind him. After giving it a little more thought, the young rebel decided he would just stay on the porch steps and eat his lunch.

Letting go.

There's a great analogy in that story. Sometimes we have to let go of our children before they see where they've gone wrong and decide to turn around and come back. If we hang on or try to be their friends out of fear and desperation, then we won't be the parents God intended us to be. We'll be so worried about losing them that we'll compromise our own principles just to get them to stay.

I heard Dr. Phil say that we're not raising children; we're raising adults - and we have a responsibility to prepare them for real world situations. We're not doing our children any favors to spare them from the harsh realities of life that they will one day be forced to face.

Recently, one of my nieces informed her mother that she plans to move out of the house as soon as she turns 18, which will be in the fall of her senior year. Initially, this upset my sister greatly, and she pleaded with her daughter to stop saying that. Then my niece replied, "Well, Mom, if you would quit being so controlling and lighten up on some of your rules, maybe I wouldn't have to move out."

Mission accomplished. What can I say? The girl is good.

But after pondering the situation a little longer, my sister viewed things in a totally different light and she went back to her daughter and said, "You know, I've established these rules for our home because I feel they're important and that's my responsibility as a parent. So if you decide that my rules are too restrictive, then maybe you should move out."

Amazingly, her daughter suddenly had a dramatic change of heart. "Well, I haven't made any definite decisions yet, Mom."

Letting go.

When my kids were little I would mother-hen them to death. Keen used to say, "Let them go outside without a hat; they'll learn to wear a hat when their ears get cold." I finally came to the realization that there are some lessons only life can teach them.

On the first day of school last fall, (which also happened to be one of the hottest days of the year), our 14-year-old son, Kirk, decided to wear a sweatshirt. I was tempted to say something, but I bit my tongue. When he came home from school that afternoon the first thing he did was tear that sweatshirt off. "Man, was this shirt hot!" he said. "It was like wearing a blanket!"

Letting go.

The next day I was working in the yard and I noticed that it was almost 8:00 and Kirk hadn't left for school yet. I was concerned that he would be late, but once again, I zipped my mouth. How will he learn to budget his time if I don't let him fail? When he finally came outside to get in his car, I gave him a hug and told him to have a good day. Sure enough, he ended up having a hard time finding a parking spot and he was almost late for assembly. But he learned a lesson - not because I said or did anything - but because I didn't say or do anything. He learned because he experienced firsthand the stressful consequences of cutting his time too short.

Letting go. It's not easy - but it's necessary.

LETTING GO
Author Unknown

TO let go doesn't mean to stop caring, it means I can't do it for someone else.

TO let go is not to cut myself off, it's the realization that I can't control another.

TO let go is not to enable, but to allow learning from natural consequences.

TO let go is to admit powerlessness, which means the outcome is not in my hands.

TO let go is not to try to change or blame another; I can only change myself.

TO let go is not to care for, but to care about.

TO let go is not to fix, but to be supportive.

TO let go is not to judge, but to allow another to be a human being.

TO let go is not to be in the middle arranging the entire outcome, but to allow others to effect their own outcomes.

TO let go is not to be protective; it is to permit another to face reality.

TO let go is not to deny, but to accept.

TO let go is not to nag, scold, or argue, but to search out my own shortcomings and to correct them.

TO let go is not to adjust everything to my desires, but to take each day as it comes, and to cherish the moment.

TO let go is not to criticize or regulate anyone, but to try to become whatever I dream I can be.

TO let go is not to regret the past, but to grow and live for the future.

TO let go is to fear less and to love more.

Rumors, Rumors

“He who answers a matter before he hears the facts, it is folly and shame to him.”

~Proverbs 18:13 (NKJV)

Phones were ringing, tongues were wagging
Hot gossip was flying all around town
She heard the talk, the lowdown was
The shameless color of her wedding gown
It’s white

I mean, really, who’s she trying to kid
Everybody knows the things she did
It just isn’t right, won’t that be a sight?
To see her wearing white

It's nobody's business what she wears
Anyway the truth is she don't care
Baby it's her life, she'll do what she likes
And she likes wearing white

“Wearing White” ~ recorded by Martina McBride

Living in a small town has its advantages and disadvantages. One of the advantages is that you don’t have to live amongst the hustle and bustle of a big city, yet you’re close enough to drive there when you need to. The down side is that everybody makes it their business to know your business. Maybe that wouldn’t be all bad if they got the story straight. But that’s not normally the case.

Every rumor seems to have a thread of truth running through it somewhere, but it’s usually buried so deep that it barely resembles the original version. It’s like that game of operator we used to play as kids when one person would whisper a sentence into the ear of the next person and so on and so forth until it reached the last person in line. Who could forget how ridiculous the end result turned out to be!

Keen and I have several stories about our life in a small town. I remember when we first moved to Alma back in 1979 and I took my first trip to the local grocery store. After writing out my check, I asked the clerk if she needed to see my driver’s license. “Oh no,” she replied with a smile. “I know who you are.”

Another time, after we’d lived in Alma for several years, Keen was watching the kids for me while I drove to Minnesota to visit one of my sisters. When I was getting out of the car upon my return, my next door neighbor hollered, “So, did you decide you liked Alma after all?” I guess he thought I’d “flown the coop” before I came to my senses and returned to my family.

Back in 1998, Keen was invited to speak to a group of high school students in
Connecticut. During his speech, Keen talked about his dream of one day selling the trash business and earning a law degree. Well, he never imagined that it would get back to anyone in Alma, but just a few days after he returned he walked in the door and announced, “Guess who has a sister in Hartford, Connecticut?” Sure enough, an Alma resident had a sister who read about Keen’s speech in The Hartford Courant. (“Lessons Learned in a Fight for Rights”, October 3, 1998.) It’s a small, small world.

When we sold our business in 1999 so Keen could return to college and pursue his dream, we set up an office for him in the basement of the house we owned near the Kansas State campus in Manhattan. (Our son Josh, who was also attending K-State at the time, lived upstairs.)

When Gene Smith from The Topeka Capital-Journal interviewed him about the new journey he was embarking on, Keen made the mistake of mentioning our house in Manhattan. He was quoted as saying: "We've bought a house five blocks from the Student Union, so we can walk to school each day. We won't even need a car!"

Boy, did that statement ever come back to haunt us! Everywhere we went, people were asking us when we were moving to Manhattan. One time a lady at the post office asked me about it and I explained the whole situation. Later in the day, I ran into her again at the grocery store where she overheard the clerk ask me the exact same question. “If you had a nickel for every time someone asked you that, you’d be rich,” she commented. Then the clerk replied, “Well, you need to put it in the paper so we’ll know!” I had to laugh because we did put an ad in the paper! We thanked all our customers for their past business and explained our future plans. “Although we own a house in Manhattan where Keen will have an office,” we wrote, “we will continue to make our home in Alma.” We thought that was pretty clear. But it was too late – the rumor mill had been set in motion and there was no turning back.

During that same time, Josh was working for a construction company in the summer. One day during his lunch break he was talking to one of his co-workers and telling him about how his dad likes to debate his professors at K-State. “Well,” the co-worker replied somberly, “maybe that’s why your parents got divorced.” “Divorced?!” Josh replied in utter shock. “Are you kidding? They’re just like newlyweds!”

I can only imagine the rumors that are flying around town since I left for Nevada to write my book. When I was home for Christmas, Keen and I were attending Kirk’s Christmas concert and I noticed a couple sitting together who had been separated for quite some time. I’ll call them Glenn and Gloria. “Look, Glenn and Gloria are sitting together,” I whispered to Keen. “Maybe they’ve patched things up.” After a short pause, Keen leaned over and said, “That’s probably what they’re saying about us.”

One person came right out and asked me if Keen and I were still married. This person had received my Christmas newsletter where I went to great lengths to explain what I was doing and why, but she still didn’t seem to understand that I went to Nevada with the full support of my husband and family. She went on to say, “Well, your sister got a divorce so I thought maybe you did, too.” The last time I checked, divorce wasn’t contagious!

An elderly woman from Alma (who also received my newsletter), called Keen on the phone recently. After making small talk, she came right out and asked, “Keen. Did Eileen leave you? Because I would just be sick if she did.” Keen did his best to calm her fears and assure her that was not the case. Whether he succeeded is anybody’s guess.

Another older woman had this bold reaction: “Why, if I were married to a good looking guy like you, I wouldn’t leave you alone for five minutes!”
Several years ago Keen was waiting in line at the local parts store when he struck up a conversation with the “stranger” standing in front of him. Sure enough, the woman and her husband had just moved to town, so Keen asked her where they lived. When she rattled off their address, Keen replied, “No, not your street address – nobody pays any attention to those around here.” After she described the physical location of their new home, Keen replied, “Ohhhhh, you bought the Nedrow place.” By now, the new Alma resident was becoming quite exasperated. “Why does everyone keep calling it the Nedrow house?” Keen explained, “Oh, it will always be the Nedrow house. Until you move. Then we’ll call it the Smith house.”

But my all-time favorite small town story involves the time we were looking for a larger house to accommodate our growing family. We heard about a lovely, five-bedroom home for sale out in the country (which was what we’d always wanted), so I called the realtor to inquire about the selling price. After he told me, I politely explained that it was out of our price range and thanked him for his time. But before I could hang up, the realtor asked if I would mind leaving my name. I told him that I’d really rather remain anonymous since we weren’t serious buyers. He stated that he just wanted to be able to show the sellers that he had fielded some calls. After reiterating the fact that I was simply curious about the price, I reluctantly gave my name.

I kid you not – within a week people started telling us how they’d heard we bought the Taylor house. I could not believe my ears. One woman at the doctor’s office said she’d heard we signed the papers on Friday and were moving in the following weekend. We even received a phone call inquiring about whether our current house would be coming up for rent.

"A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a
chance to get its pants on."

~ Sir Winston Churchill (1874-1965)

I guess those humorous sayings about life in a small town are true: What we don’t know, we make up and we never let the truth stand in the way of a good story.

(Note: Just for the record: I really did come to Nevada to write a book. Now I’m busy packing to return home. Next week Keen is flying out to spend a few days with me during his spring break. I can’t wait to show him where I’ve been living, the people I’ve met and the mountains I’ve enjoyed walking on. We’re also going to see Stew Stewart while he’s here. So spread the word – but please….. get it straight!)

Wishing you always—
Walls for the wind, and a roof for the rain,
and tea beside the fire—
Laughter to cheer you, and those you love near you—
And all that your heart might desire!
~ Irish blessing

Still, Small Voice

"I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd gives His life for the sheep….and the sheep follow Him, for they know His voice.” ~ John 10:11,4 (NKJV)

We had a close call at our house last week. My son, Kirk called me in Nevada one morning before school to tell me that the carbon monoxide detector downstairs was beeping like crazy. The message on the alarm read, “Move to fresh air.” Well, Keen had already left for law school and Kirk didn’t know what to do. Thank God he called, because if he hadn’t, our house would have been filled with carbon monoxide by the time they returned home that evening and I don’t even want to think about what could have happened next.

So I called Lane’s Plumbing and Heating and Danny Lane was able to check on the problem right away. He quickly discovered that our heating ducts were completely clogged because they hadn’t been cleaned out in several years. Yikes!

Needless to say, we are thankful for the loud beep of our carbon monoxide detector. But sometimes life’s warnings aren’t quite that easy to hear. Sometimes we have to tune in and really listen to that still, small voice inside of us that some people call a sixth sense, gut instinct, or mother’s intuition. Whatever you call it, I believe it is God’s way of giving us some much needed direction in the affairs of our every day life.

There have been so many times in our life when Keen and I have learned the importance of heeding that still, small voice. For example, when Keen was writing his weekly column called My Perspective, many people were angered by his criticism of the county commissioners. He was verbally harassed and physically threatened on more than one occasion. One night around 12:30 a.m., Keen woke up suddenly with the strangest feeling that someone had done some damage to his trash truck. So he got dressed and walked to our shop which was just 2 blocks from our home. He first walked all the way around the truck and kicked the tires, thinking that maybe someone had slashed them. Since they were all fine, he climbed into the cab of his truck to start the engine. Due to the ominous feeling he had inside, he was especially cautious as he turned the key in the ignition. Right away he noticed that the oil gauge wasn’t moving and he quickly turned the truck off, thereby saving the $10,000 engine. As it turned out, someone had removed the oil plugs in both of our trucks and drained the oil completely out of them.

If Keen hadn’t been pre-warned by God, he never would have been watching the gauges that closely when he turned the truck on the next morning, and the engine would surely have been destroyed.

Another example concerns a trip I took to Washington D.C. several years ago with my son, Josh. We flew out to attend a hearing at the United States Supreme Court involving a case about a tow truck operator from Northlake, Illinois who was removed from the rotation list after he made a political contribution to the sitting mayor’s opponent.

The case came before the court about four months after ours and was decided on the same day – June 28, 1996 – by the same 7-2 margin. At any rate, my brother Bob had invited us to stay at their house, but when I was making our travel arrangements I had a strong feeling that I should get a hotel room. When the first two hotels I called were completely full, I began to second-guess my decision. “What difference does it make whether we stay in a hotel or stay at Bob and Christine’s?” I asked myself. “Besides, we can save a little money if we stay with them.”

So rather than listen to my gut and call other hotels, I just gave up and decided to stay with my brother. To make a long story short, our trip would have been perfect – if we had only stayed our own hotel room. It was a major hassle for Bob to give us directions to the subway and explain how to use it before he rushed off to work. Then it rained the whole day and Josh and I were left to wander the streets of D.C. aimlessly (with inadequate outerwear) all day long – slipping into one museum after another just to escape the cold, damp weather. Oh, how I wished I’d listened to that ever-so-subtle feeling that I should get a hotel room! Josh and I could have been nestled into the warmth of our room, enjoying pizza and a good movie. Then, when Bob got off from work, he could have picked us up in the hotel lobby to meet for dinner. Instead, we stood on a dark street corner (in the cold and rain again), waiting for him to pick us up and drive us back to his house. Now that may not seem like a big deal to you, but I really believe that God cares about every detail of our lives, and, if we are willing to listen, we can save ourselves a whole lot of inconvenience and discomfort.

In other cases, it could be more than just a matter of convenience – it could be a matter of life and death. Like the time our son, Josh, decided to go driving around with some friends before the Friday night football game at Wabaunsee High. The driver of the car insisted that everyone fasten their seatbelts, and thank God he did because he tried to pass on a curve and met an oncoming car. The vehicle rolled several times and landed on its hood - leaving all four passengers hanging from their seatbelts. Miraculously, everyone escaped with only minor injuries, as did the driver of the other car.

I have always tried to teach my children the importance of “listening to their heart.” So just out of curiosity, I asked Josh if he had any sort of red flag or bad feeling before he got in the car that day. He admitted that he did, but that he had ignored it. Who knows? Perhaps it was a “still small voice” that made the driver of the car insist that everyone wear their seatbelts, too.

There are times when the voice may not be “still and small”, but rather “loud and large.” Greg Hawley, one of the owner’s of The Steamboat Arabia in Kansas City, shares an amazing story about the time they finally discovered the sunken ship they had spent so many years (and $750,000) searching for. He said two of the members of their team were in a deep, deep hole in the middle of a field when they suddenly realized they had located the ship. Loud cheers of jubilation rang out as they joyously celebrated the long awaited discovery. Then, all of a sudden, at exactly the same moment in time, both men heard an audible voice telling them to “Get out! Get out, now!” Without a moment’s hesitation, they scurried as fast as they could to the top of the deep canyon. Greg said that they had no sooner pulled the second man out when the entire hole caved in. So we just never know how important it might be to heed the warnings God gives us.

Dorothy Masters from Harveyville tells a similar story in the first chapter of her book titled, Life is a Choice. Dorothy had been going “full-tilt” in the nursing profession for nearly 40 years and the stress had begun to take a toll on her mind and body. She not only suffered from severe joint pain in her hip and but she’d lost her sense of humor in the process.

Dorothy was also feeling increasingly frustrated by the changes she had seen in the medical field, particularly the way doctors and nurses prolonged a patient’s life when there was no hope for recovery. Dorothy said her whole body seemed to be screaming, “I can not take this dead run approach of hospital nursing until the calendar says that my retirement is in the mail.”

Well, one night she was walking down the hospital corridor during her night shift when she heard a voice say, “Get the hell out of here!” She walked a little further and heard the same voice say, “We have worked too hard….,” and then it trailed off. After tending to her patient, Dorothy took a deep breath and reflected on the voice she had heard in the hall. Suddenly she realized the voice was that of her late husband of twenty-two years, Loren B. Masters, who had died in a car-tractor accident eleven years earlier. Dorothy said that whenever Loren used that tone of voice when he was alive, someone was in great danger! Realizing that Loren, as her Guardian Angel, was telling her to quit work and enjoy life while she still could, Dorothy penned out her resignation and gave two weeks notice that very night. She’s never regretted her decision, and has now gone on to write two more books – Fun on the Run and Keep on the Sunny Side of Life. What an inspiration!

In his latest book titled, Waking the Dead: The Glory of a Heart Fully Alive, author John Eldredge tells a story about the time he and his family vacationed at a ranch in Colorado where they enjoyed horseback riding, porch swings and campfires. The decision to return the following year seemed like a “no-brainer.” They had even considered making it an annual family tradition. However, when they prayed about it, they sensed God telling them, “Not this year.” It was hard to accept because everyone in the family wanted to go back, but they chose to cancel their plans..

“When the Hayman Fire burned 137,000 acres of Colorado in June,” he writes, “we looked at each other and realized that was the week we would have been at the ranch. It was almost totally engulfed in flames.”

Looking back, most of us can probably recall times in our lives when we, too, have felt that twinge of uneasiness tugging at our hearts. I truly believe that if we’ll heed that still, small voice in our hearts, we’ll be very glad we did.

“And let the peace....from the Christ rule (act as umpire continually) in your hearts – deciding and settling with finality all questions that arise in your minds..."
~ Colossians 3:15 (Amplified)

Almost Home

“For I long to see you…that is, that I may be comforted together with you by the mutual faith both of you and me.” ~ Romans 1:11,12 (KJV)

I'm not runnin’
I'm not hidin’
I'm not reachin’
I'm just resting in the arms of the great wide open
Gonna pull my soul in
And I'm almost home

“Almost Home” ~ recorded by Mary Chapin Carpenter

By now some of you may be wondering how my book project is coming along and when I might be returning to Kansas. So I’ve decided to devote this article to filling you in on what’s been happening in my life since I embarked on my journey.

I landed in Nevada on October 31st, just in time to drive to the Governor’s Mansion to watch my niece, Chloe Eileen perform an Irish dance for the Nevada Day celebration. Governor Kenny Guinn was on the grounds handing out candy to the trick or treaters and I was lucky enough to get my picture taken with him. The snow was falling and the governor’s mansion was beautifully decorated for the occasion – like something out of a movie. It was a very exciting way to start off my time in Nevada.

Another memorable event happened one night when my sister, Mary and several of her friends and I went out to dinner at a local casino. Afterwards, we listened to a singer by the name of Stew Stewart who has performed with many famous artists like Johnny Cash, Tammy Wynette and Garth Brooks. Mary heard him sing before when he came to one of the nursing homes where she works.

Stew Stewart is quite a character. He likes to pull people out of the crowd and have them sing into the microphone. When he came around to me, I gladly chimed in because I love to sing. During one of the breaks, I decided to ask him if I could sing my favorite song – “She’s in love with the boy,” by Trisha Yearwood. I told him that I sang it at my son’s wedding, so he decided to take a chance on me. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven when he called me up on stage and let me sing with the band. But the real highlight came after I sat down and Stew called my name again from the stage.

“I’ve never done this before in nearly thirty years of performing, but Eileen, can you come back again tomorrow night?” Are you kidding? Of course I can come back!

After arriving in Nevada, I found a comfortable apartment nestled into the picturesque Sierra-Nevada Mountains. I’ve enjoyed many long walks on the mountain trails behind my place. My neighbors are all friendly, working adults, so it’s been very peaceful and quiet, too.

My sister, Mary has been my right arm since I’ve been here. She helped me find the apartment, furnish it and get the utilities set up. She’s been my personal chauffer, taking me to the grocery store and Wal Mart and anywhere else I needed to go. She’s been my nurse and my number one cheerleader. Most of all, she’s been my friend. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without her. Whenever I tell her that it seems like she’s doing too much for me, she always says, “I have to take care of you. It’s my job.” I guess some things never change.

As for the book, it’s almost finished – which is why I’m “almost home.” I didn’t plan to return until May 1st, but I’m too homesick to wait that long. So I’ll be flying home during spring break – just one week after the 30th anniversary of our first date (March 15, 1974).

Several years ago I sent a letter of inquiry to a literary agent in New York and she wrote back and said that she definitely thought there was a book in our story. However, I’ve always wanted to write the “behind-the-scenes” version of our story based on my personal journals, and she didn’t think that was where the “larger drama” was. She wrote in part: “I feel the book you should be writing is a narrative non-fiction account by you and your husband (largely from his point of view) of the entire struggle up through the Supreme Court. The book should detail the local corruption that your husband fought as a journalist himself and in his daily business, include the columns he wrote, as well as your navigation of the justice system” She concluded her letter with these words, “The story is an inspiration. Your faith in your fundamental rights reinforces confidence in the human spirit and in a country where every voice has a right to be heard.”

You would think that I would have been pretty encouraged by that letter – and I was. But not encouraged enough to change the way I envisioned writing our story. In my letter of response I said: “This is not just a story about our Supreme Court case; it is a story about our faith in God, our love for each other, and how both saw us through our darkest hour.”

So when I arrived in Nevada with my journals in hand (all 800 pages of them), I was fully prepared to write my own version of our story. But much to my surprise, the book seemed to take on a life of its own and headed in a completely different direction. I soon discovered that there was far too much information for me to write the basic story and include the personal side at the same time. So I essentially abandoned my journals (temporarily, at least), and focused primarily on “the corruption he faced, the columns he wrote and our navigation of the justice system.”

If I were to compare my book to a movie, I would have to say that it’s turned out to be more of a documentary. It’s a historical account based on court transcripts, legal filings, letters from lawyers, newspaper articles and personal recollections detailing exactly what conflicts arose from the time Keen was awarded the trash collection contract back in 1981 up through the U.S. Supreme Court decision in 1996.

After I get settled in back at home, there are a few people I’ll need to interview. Then I’ll start in on the task of verifying my facts and editing the rough draft.

Someone once said that there is no good writing – only good rewriting. The following quote seems to sum it up quite well.

“Writing is not like painting where you add. It is not what you put on the canvas that the reader sees. Writing is more like a sculpture where you remove, you eliminate in order to make the work visible.”
~ Elie Wiesel, 1986 Nobel Peace Prize laureate, 1988

My next step will be trying to find a publisher. I plan to contact the agent in New York to see if she still has any interest in our story. If not, I’ll have to pursue other avenues, including self-publishing. But whether 10 people read it or 10,000 – this was something I had to do. We spent fifteen years of our lives (off and on) engaged in some sort of battle with the county commissioners. This is the history of our life and, with the help of God, I will see it in print one day.

As for my family, they have survived pretty well in my absence. I so appreciate all the sacrifices they made to help me make this dream a reality. Keen has been the “go-to-guy” while I’ve been away. He’s such a great dad, I’m grateful that the boys have someone they can turn to whenever a problem arises. This has been a real time of bonding for them, too, which has been an added bonus.

Someone asked Keen if he was keeping the house clean and his response was: “Clean enough.” He does all the grocery shopping and bill paying, and he and Kirk have become experts at laundry and ironing. Keen said that Kirk jumps up when he hears the dryer stop because he wants to get his clothes out before they get all wrinkled. And Kirk told me that he’s actually enjoyed the feeling of independence. He said, “If I need something for school, I throw in a load of laundry; if I have homework, I do it; and when I’m hungry, I eat. It’s helped get me ready for…you know…when I’m grown up.” Kirk has kept busy with basketball season and has continued to get A’s and B’s in school. I’m really proud him.

Of course, the hardest part has been being away from those I love. I’ve missed everyone terribly and they’ve missed me. I guess absence really does make the heart grow fonder. Keen’s love letters have helped a lot, but its still been very difficult to be apart. Needless to say, we’re all looking forward to being reunited in a few short weeks.

You are my best friend
And you are where my heart is
And I know at the day's end
I get to come home to you
Yes I get to come home to you
Oh I love coming home to you

“Home to You” ~ recorded by John Michael Montgomery

I’d like to close by sharing a few more excerpts from some of Keen’s love letters.


Dear Eileen,
It’s 10:30 p.m. Friday night – I can’t read any more. I must write you – express my love for you. Just thinking of you makes me happy. Being apart makes me focus on the many ways I love you. I’ll never take for granted the opportunity to be with you – stand next to you – to make your happiness my only pursuit. It is so cool to be married to you!

You are on a path that seems imprudent to some, foolish to others; but to me – you are heroic, courageous and full of life’s passion. I know at times, it must be hard, but push on – as I will also – and we’ll meet at the finish line. Honey, we are on the eve of the rest of our life. It is so exciting! We are embarking on a journey – the destination – God only knows.

Eileen, you are the strength in my muscles – the spark in my life. You are the music that plays in the soul of my being from sunrise to sunset.

I miss you.

Love,

Keen

Unexpected Miracles

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born I sanctified you…"
~ Jeremiah 1:5 (NKJV)

When a woman is pregnant, she is said to be “expecting.” But sometimes babies are “unexpected.” Someone once said that the definition of “planned parenthood” is that you find out you’re pregnant and start planning for it.

That’s what happened with Keen and me. When we got married, we decided we wanted to wait a couple of years before we had kids. But God had other plans. Our firstborn son, Jared Joseph, arrived right on his due date – May 10, 1979 – exactly 11 months to the day after our wedding day. Keen always says, “Yes, the math works out.” But even when the math doesn’t work out, it’s still a miracle. In fact, some of God’s greatest blessings are unexpected miracles.

Kenny Chesney recently came out with a beautiful song titled, There goes my Life. The video version depicts a high school football player who just learned that his girlfriend is pregnant.

All he could see were his dreams
goin’ up in smoke
So much for ditching this town
and hangin’ out on the Coast
oh well...those plans are long gone

And he said -
There goes my life
There goes my future,
my everything
Might as well kiss it all goodbye
There goes my life

Couple years of up all night
and a few thousand diapers later
That mistake he thought he made
covers up the refrigerator
Oh yeah, he loves that little girl…

Momma’s waiting to tuck her in
as she fumbles up those stairs
She smiles back at him
dragging that teddy bear
Sleep tight

Blue eyes and bouncing curls

He smiles
There goes my life
There goes my future
my everything
I love you, Daddy, goodnight
There goes my life

The next scene shows the little girl all grown up and going off to college. “And he said - there goes my life… my future… my everything.” What a touching example of how life’s detours can lead us on a most wonderful journey.

Far too many women take what they see as the “easy way out.” But there’s nothing easy about living with the guilt of ending an innocent life. There’s nothing easy about the heartache of going through life thinking about the child you never had and wondering what they might be doing right now.

I recently purchased a book by Kimberlee Stone titled, I’ve Got a Secret: A Mother’s True Story of Healing and Forgiveness. The author candidly shares the personal story of her past abortion in hopes of helping other women overcome their shame and guilt and find healing through God’s total forgiveness.

So much growth and beauty could be achieved if we would only accept responsibilities and face difficult situations head on, no matter how difficult or embarrassing they might be. A woman who is dealing with an unexpected pregnancy could choose to keep the baby or give it up for adoption. Either way, she would be giving her precious baby a chance at life.

There are no easy answers to the abortion question in our country. Anti-abortion activists like Eric Rudolph and Paul Hill seem to think the solution is to murder abortion doctors or bomb abortion clinics. That’s obviously not the answer!

I am personally opposed to all abortions – but especially late term abortions. To perform that horrendous “procedure” on a full term baby is nothing short of murder in my view.

But whether you agree with a woman’s right to choose or not, the fact of the matter is, abortion is legal in our country. As much as I hate to admit it, even if we succeeded in overturning the law, I’m afraid it wouldn’t stop women from having abortions any more than the prohibition movement stopped people from drinking alcohol.

So what is the answer? I think the answer lies in changing people’s hearts and trying to help them see a better way. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could match up couples longing to have a baby with the women who weren’t ready or able to care for their babies at this time in their lives? So many couples have empty arms just yearning to be filled, but their only choice is to remain on long waiting lists or travel overseas to adopt a baby. What an incredible gift that woman would be giving to an infertile couple – not to mention the gift of life she would be giving her own unborn child.

This is a poem I wrote based on an actual conversation I had with our youngest son, Kirk several years ago.

We mourn

One day my young son,
asked me to explain
A word he’d heard before
but didn’t understand
“Sure, honey,” I said,
without giving it a thought
“What word is that?”
Then my jaw just dropped

“Abortion,” he said
in all his innocence
I cringed when he said it
And then I felt quite tense

But I had to tell him how
A little life is destroyed,
Because it’s a sad fact,
That we cannot avoid

My son just winced
When he heard the explanation
Then I began to wonder
If it was beyond his comprehension

But the words that he spoke next
And the look upon his face
Let me know without a doubt
That this was not the case

With wisdom beyond his years
He turned and said to me
“Mom, I feel so sorry,
For that little baby.

“Because we only get,
One chance to be born.”
Yes, that’s sad, but true, my son
And after that, we mourn.

We had an unexpected miracle in our family four years ago…he calls me Grandma.

Change

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”
~ II Timothy 1:7 (KJV)

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
~ The Serenity Prayer

When we moved to Singapore back in 1973, one of the biggest adjustments was the weather. Due to Singapore’s close proximity to the Equator, the climate is always hot and the humidity is very high – about 75% (on the average). As a result, there are only two seasons – sunny or rainy.

As much as I enjoyed the experience of living in Singapore (not to mention meeting Keen), I really missed the changing of the seasons. Everything was so predictable – not like Kansas where we are blessed to be able to enjoy all four seasons. I love the way a new season comes along just about the time I’ve grown weary of the last one.

Change is good. It keeps life interesting and fresh. But sometimes change is painful. Sometimes it barges into our lives rudely, like an uninvited visitor who arrives at a bad time. But we don’t have any say about the events in our lives that occur unexpectedly – like a death in the family or the loss of a job.

Other times change is something we choose for ourselves. When my sister Mary made the agonizing decision to end her abusive marriage after 25 years, she knew it was what she had to do for her own survival – but that didn’t make it any easier.

This is a something I wrote for Mary during that difficult time.

A Sister’s Sorrow
By Eileen Umbehr

She never wanted it to be this way
This wasn’t the dream she had so long ago,
when she walked down the isle with the man
she wanted to grow old with

No, this doesn’t even come close.

The dream is shattered by reality
Hope has vanished -
Her heart is broken

With every painful step toward the end, she cries.
Grieving for what might have been
Realizing she’s been holding on to what she wanted -
not what she had.

A fantasy.

Even still, this is the hardest thing she’s ever had to do.
The death of a family.
The death of a dream.

She fights on. She struggles in her mind.
Is there anything worth saving here?

Then…. she remembers….

Mary, Mimi, Jess, Chloe & Gus

**********

Yet, no matter how painful the process, change is a necessary and natural part of life - like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. Mary and her children have never regretted their decision to strive for a better life – a life of freedom, joy and serenity.

A friend of mine sent me this interesting piece titled Changes Come.

Changes Come
By Ralph Marston

To be alive is to change, from moment to moment, from day to day. You take what comes to you and you make of it what you will, changing all the while. Some people see themselves as cursed by those changes that come their way. Others see themselves as blessed by the opportunities that those same changes present. And the fact is, how you see change, how you live it, how you choose to deal with life as it changes, makes all the difference. For change is an engine that can take you as high as you dare to dream.

Changes come continuously and relentlessly. Indeed, they are what keep you alive and what keeps life interesting. So grab those changes and make them your friends. For it is through change that you arrive at precisely where you desire to go.

In closing, I’d like to share a poem I wrote recently.

Change
By Eileen Umbehr

Have you ever felt like you’re growing
(not upward or outward, thank the Lord)
But in a new direction
That you’ve never gone before?

Well, that’s how I feel right now
A change is coming over me
I’m beginning to find the courage
To make my dreams a reality

Now you’re probably wondering -
What dreams, you might ask
I guess you could say that I’m learning
To be real and remove my mask.

I don’t want to live my life
Trying to please everyone else
Because they all have a different opinion
And I have to be true to myself

Change isn’t always easy
You have to leave your comfort zone
But you’ll never regret your decision,
Once you see how much you’ve grown

And if anybody doesn’t like
The changes they see in you
Don’t let them get you down,
Just invite them to try changing, too

Because life is just too short
To let it pass you by
So look in your heart - discover yourself
Then spread your wings and fly!

If you always do
What you’ve always done
You’ll always be
What you’ve always been
~ Josh McDowell

The Best for Last

"Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For every one who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.” ~ Matthew 7: 7,8 (RSV)

My brother said that I was rotten to the core
I was the youngest child so I got by with more
I guess she was tired by the time I came along
She'd laugh until she cried, I could do no wrong

She would always save me…because I was her baby
“The Baby” ~ recorded by Blake Shelton

This week I’d like to write about my brother, Bob, who will be celebrating his 39th birthday on February 13th.

Bob was “the baby” in our family – the youngest of nine. While the rest of us seemed to arrive in two year intervals, Bob came along a full five years after child number eight.

God must have saved the best for last because Bob has been an answer to prayer from the day he was born. Our sister Connie tells the story about how she prayed fervently for another brother or sister. Then one day Mom gave Connie a note to give to her teacher explaining that she would not be able to attend a parent-teacher conference because she was “infanticipating.” I guess Mom was trying to disguise the news, but Connie figured it out. “Infant + anticipating…..Hmmmm. I’ve got it! Mom’s having another baby!”

We all adored Bob – and still do. I can honestly say that none of us ever thought he was “rotten to the core” – although I do recall thinking he got away with more. When Bob was just a teenager, he used to engage in heated debates with our dad and it sounded an awful lot like “backtalk” to the rest of us! We were pretty convinced that we would have been escorted to our rooms if we had used that tone of voice with our dad!

When Bob was just a baby, he came down with pneumonia and almost died. I still remember seeing his little body lying in that big old hospital bed underneath an oxygen tent. But thank God, our prayers were answered when Bob pulled through. Bob would survive several other close calls throughout his lifetime, including a ruptured appendix and a fall from a high dive.

We all thought Bob was the most adorable baby that ever lived (until we grew up and had children of our own, of course!) – and we enjoyed the cute and funny things he would say and do.

When he was about three years old, our oldest sister Peggy went off to college and Bob went with my parents to help her move into the dorm. A short time later, Mom took Bob to visit a pre-school. After they returned home, Mom asked him how he liked it and Bob’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. “I don't want to go to collitch! I want to stay right here with you, Mom!"

Another time, our dad came home from work and asked, “What’s new?” and Bob answered, “Just gwocewies.”

I remember how Bob used to call our brother Bill, “Bully.” One day when Mom was vacuuming, Bob came running down the hall, crying hysterically. “Mom! Bully threw a block at me!” “Ahhhhh…..Where did he hit you?” Mom asked as comforted him. “He missed me!”

Bob was such a good kid growing up – and a hard worker, too. When he was only eleven years old he had a paper route and he used to get up at five o’clock in the morning to brave the snow and cold of a Minnesota winter.

After high school, Bob attended Notre Dame University and graduated summa cum laude. Three years later, he graduated number two in his class from Duke University School of Law. While attending Duke, Bob was an editor of the Duke Law Journal and won the law school’s moot court competition. He also delivered the graduation address, which contained a touching tribute to our mother who had passed away exactly one year earlier.

Bob married his college sweetheart, Christine and together they have three adorable children of their own; Caitlyn, Connor & Ryan.

Bob & Christine



Caitlyn, Connor & Ryan

About four years after Bob graduated from law school, Keen and I were embroiled in a legal battle with the Wabaunsee County Commissioners. Bob was once again an answer to prayer when he offered to assist in our free speech case. However, when I told our attorney about Bob’s offer, his response was rather cynical. “Everyone has a lawyer in the family who thinks he’s an expert,” he said. But in this case, it happened to be true.

When our lawsuit reached the 10th Circuit Court of Appeals in Denver, Bob successfully argued the merits of our case before the three-judge panel. He wouldn’t even let us pay for his hotel or airfare. “Just consider it my contribution to the cause of freedom,” he said. “Honest to God, Eileen, I believe in this case.”

After the Wabaunsee County Commissioners appealed that ruling to the U.S. Supreme Court, no one was more surprised than us to learn that they decided to accept our case. Out of 8,000 requests that year, only about 80 cases were granted a hearing. I still remember the day Bob called to tell us, “We’re goin’ to the show!”

Sometime later we received a tempting proposal from one of the largest law firms in the world, Jones and Day. They offered to represent us free of charge at the U.S. Supreme Court. When we asked Bob what we should do, he replied, “You should give it some serious consideration, because they’re a very reputable firm and they’ll probably assign about ten lawyers to the case. The offer itself represents about $100,000 in legal fees,” he explained. “But make no mistake about it – I would dearly love to be the one to represent you at the Supreme Court.”

After much prayerful consideration, Keen and I decided to “dance with the one that brought us.” And were we ever glad we did! On November 28, 1995, several members of our extended family witnessed Bob skillfully respond to the questions the justices asked him in rapid fire succession.

Seven months later to the day, on June 28, 1996, Bob called to deliver the news we’d waited so long to hear. “We won!” Keen and I were screaming and jumping up and down and thanking God. It was such a great victory, not only for Bob and for us, but also for “the cause of freedom.”

I can’t close this column about my brother Bob without mentioning his incredible sense of humor. For example, when I emailed him to ask about his various brushes with death, he provided the info and then added:

“That’s about it for near-death experiences except that I once had a very nasty hangnail and another time stubbed my toe real bad. Blew up the size of a balloon. Speaking of which, don't forget my crash in shorts on Keen's dirt bike and the attractive welts that accompanied that fall. I still have the shape of a muffler imprinted on my inner thigh.”

After Bob provided the specific details on his educational achievements, he wrote: “I also won the 6th grade spelling bee and played King George in the 5th grade class play. I think my first grade teacher gave me a double smiley face as well for sandbox etiquette, in case anyone is interested.”

Bob has always given us so much to be proud of ….and so much to be thankful for.

Happy Birthday, baby brother. We love you.

My One and Only

“I am my beloved's…and my beloved is mine! His voice and speech are exceedingly sweet; yes, he is altogether lovely – the whole of him…is precious. This is my beloved, and this is my friend…” ~ Song of Solomon 6:3, 16 (Amplified)

I have been blessed
And I feel like I've found my way
I thank God for all I've been given
At the end of every day
I have been blessed
With so much more than I deserve
To be here with the ones that love me
To love them so much it hurts…
I have been blessed.
“Blessed” ~ recorded by Martina McBride

Last week, I wrote about the power of words – both negative and positive – and I used the following verse from Proverbs 16:24 to illustrate my point:

“Pleasant words are as honey, sweet to the soul and health to the bones.”

With Valentine’s Day just around the corner (and with my husband’s permission), I’d like to share some “pleasant words” from two love letters he sent me since I’ve been in Nevada. I’ll take love letters over flowers and candy any day. There is no greater gift.

January 16, 2004

Dear Eileen,

It is Friday night and it occurred to me that you haven’t received a love letter from me since we were dating in high school. This is a love letter, long past due.

By tomorrow, it has been only 14 days since you left. I miss you! As busy as I am with school and all, I must admit my heart aches. To be honest, it kind of surprised me that I began to miss you so much and so soon. I love you so much. I am so thrilled that you have the courage to follow your heart – to do what seems crazy or antithetical to the “norms.” I am so proud of you! I think about you more now than I did when you were here.

Last night as I was looking at your pictures, I took stock of how beautiful you are; how encouraging your smile is; how “deep of spirit” you are. After talking with you today – I’m lovesick! I want to wrap my arms around you, and hold you tight.

Well, it’s 12:15 a.m. – I must get to bed – I have a Saturday class at 9:30 a.m.. I want you to know that I love you and miss you every day that you’re gone.

Walk every day in faith. I love you!

January 22, 2004 – 10:15 p.m.

Dear Eileen,

It’s Thursday night and I miss you. Tonight I had planned to begin research on a brief due next week, but I just had to stop and write you….to tell you just how much I love you, how much less of a man I am without you near me!

Lately, I find myself daydreaming about you. How beautiful you are; what great joy you bring me! Someone asked me, “Isn’t it hard to be away from your wife – and for so long?” I said, “Yes, it is; more than I ever expected.” I even admitted that I’m lovesick. But I never doubt that we are on the right path – God’s plan. I marvel at our path. I look at your picture. I remember your voice, your touch, the sight of you sleeping, the expression on your face when I walk into the house.

In a strange way, this experience has brought me closer to you; it has made my heart yearn – ache, really – for you. There is, and can be, no one other than you. When I close my eyes, I see your smile and it brings comfort to my soul. The sight of you is so pleasant in my eyes; like water to parched soil. You being away has made me love you more than if you were here. How can that be?

You are so precious to me; the most important thing in my life – air to my lungs, blood to my heart, life to my soul. I feel so grateful, that out of all the men in the world, you chose – and continue to choose me as the recipient of your affections. I am the most blessed man in the world.

Truly, I must be lovesick for you. It is such great pleasure to be in love with you, sweet as honey to my heart. I just love you and miss you so much! What I wouldn’t give for a talk on the couch with you right now. I know that you are working so hard out there. What a privilege it is to be a part of God’s plan.

There was a time that I struggled with keeping the balance between my love for you and my love for the study of law. But please know that if I was ever forced to choose, I would choose you without a scintilla of regret. You bring such a relief to my heart and soul, Eileen. You are the custodian of all that I hold dear.

One day – the world will stop for us. On that day, we’ll have all the time, money and opportunity to just be together. Until then, please know that it is such a thrill to stand next to you – and be loved by you.

I am out of words to express how much I love you!

Love,

Keen

“…a word spoken in due season, how good is it!”
~ Proverbs 15:23

Keen & Eileen
Married June 10, 1978