Such is Life: Traveling

“Do you see a man wise in his own eyes? There is more hope for a fool than for him.” ~Proverbs 26:12

I guess I’ll have to abandon my Dear Abby/Ask Eileen idea because I haven’t received any questions from anybody. This made me wonder if I unwittingly came across as someone who thinks she knows it all. I sincerely hope not, because that is definitely not the impression I meant to give. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. I know that I don’t have all of the answers, but I believe God gave us His Word as a road map to follow if we want to lead a happy life.

“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.”
~ Psalm 119:105 (KJV)

“[Christians] . . . do not have all the answers. They do not have God in their pocket. We cannot answer every question that any bright boy in the back row might ask. We have only light enough to walk by.”
~ Howard A. Johnson

I was simply hoping to use it as an opportunity to seek out answers from the Bible to see what it has to say on various subjects. But for now, that idea will have to be shelved. However, if you change your mind, just send your questions to: AskEileen@aol.com.

Until then, I would like to introduce a substitute segment for my column titled, “Such is Life.” This category will cover some experiences encountered along our journey of life that encompass a combination of joy and frustration. This week I will focus on the subject of traveling, because Keen and I just returned from spending the weekend with Jared, Erin, Asher, Gabe and Emma, in Ohio.

Our whirlwind weekend began when we arrived at the Kansas City airport in plenty of time to catch our 8:00 flight on Friday night. However, we were greeted by a “Delayed” message, with no explanation about why our flight had been delayed or for how long. So Keen and I decided to pass the time by logging onto www.youtube.com and watching funny videos on our computer. We were laughing hysterically at the various clips – and we didn’t care who heard us. It’s really true what the Bible says about laughter doing good like a medicine. We completely forgot about the inconvenience. Then a passenger on the same flight informed us that the airline was going to provide refreshments. So we packed up our belongings and made our way to the table for some cookies and water. The next thing we knew they were bringing blankets and pillows for everyone – something we didn’t interpret as a good sign. Before long, a voice came over the loudspeaker announcing that the flight had been canceled and they would be putting us all up in a hotel near the airport. So we got in line for our hotel voucher and learned that we would be flying out at 8:10 a.m. the following morning.

While waiting in line we struck up a conversation with two nice ladies named Twila and Pauline who had just returned from a two-week trip to Alaska. After we realized that there were more passengers than could fit in the hotel shuttle van, Keen decided to retrieve our Durango and drive to the hotel ourselves. We invited Twila and Pauline to ride with us, and they gladly accepted.

On our way to the hotel we got lost, but not for long. Then Twila received a phone call from someone wanting to know when she would be arriving home. After she hung up, I commented that they probably said, “You did what? You got in a car with two strangers?!” Then I said, “Just tell them, ‘yes, they were strange, but in a good kind of way!’” Oh, we laughed and laughed with our two new friends. They later said they felt God took care of them by sending us their way, and we told them they helped us, too, by easing the stress of the unexpected turn of events.

The next morning we enjoyed breakfast at the hotel and headed back to the KCI airport to catch our morning flight. After Keen left to park our car I realized that I left my cell phone plugged into the outlet in the hotel room. So I called the hotel and they said their shuttle van just happened to be approaching our terminal. So when Keen returned he caught the shuttle back to the hotel, retrieved my cell phone, and hopped right back on the shuttle back to the airport. Then when he reached security he realized that he forgot to pack his shaving kit with all those impermissible bottles of shaving cream, cologne and shampoo. The TSA agents gave him the option of going back to the terminal to purchase a Ziploc bag, (as if putting the items in a plastic bag would really make any difference). Thank God he declined and opted to allow them to confiscate the items because when I reached the gate I learned that they just made the last call for our flight. “Keen Umbehr, please report to gate number 30 immediately. Keen Umbehr.” We made it just under the wire! Later I contemplated how disastrous it would have been to have our evening flight canceled and then miss our next flight the following morning! But all is well that ends well, and we had a wonderful weekend, despite the hassles that go along with traveling!

Enjoying time in the pool

Gramma Eileen with Emma Eileen

In closing, I’d like to share a poem I wrote about a trip my sister Mary and I took several years ago.

There's No Place Like Home
By Eileen Umbehr

We got up at four,
We were right on time;
Then we caught our shuttle,
And everything was fine.

Mary hopped on her plane,
At seven fifteen,
And one hour later,
Came the plane for Eileen.

But lo and behold,
Be still my heart,
There was rain in Dallas,
So the plane could not depart.

This caused a chain of events,
From which I could not escape,
So I just read my magazine,
And accepted my fate.

I arrived late in Dallas,
With quite a jolt,
The stewardess said, "Run!"
So away I did bolt.

I ran like the wind,
Weaving my way through the crowd,
"Excuse me! Coming through!"
I hollered out loud.

Well, I made it to the gate,
I'm happy to report,
But I was all out of breath,
And all out of sorts.

So I relaxed in my seat,
And prepared for the ride,
I was just so relieved,
That I had survived.

When we landed in Kansas City,
I thought my troubles were behind me,
But oh, I was mistaken,
Soon some others would find me.

As I waited and waited,
For my luggage to appear,
My heart just sank,
As I realized my worst fear.

You guessed it! No luggage!
I had to file a claim,
And I returned home,
Losing more than I'd gained.

So for now, at least,
I have no intention to roam,
Because I'm more convinced than ever,
There's no place like home!

Country road in front of our home

Farewell, Friend

“Now also we would not have you ignorant, brethren, about those who fall asleep in death, that you may not grieve for them, as the rest do who have no hope beyond the grave. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will also bring with Him through Jesus those who have fallen asleep in death.”

~ I Thessalonians 4:13,14 (Amp)

I was saddened to receive word that my dear, sweet friend, Rebecca Miller had passed away on Friday, August 17th.

The last time I visited with Rebecca was on June 7, 2007. I remember the date because it was our granddaughter Katelyn’s first birthday. Keen and I stayed at the Cottage House to celebrate our anniversary before driving to Wichita for the party. I’m so thankful that I stopped by to see Rebecca before we left town.

Rebecca was her usual cheerful, positive self – ever an inspiration. I told her she was very special, and without hesitation she returned the compliment. I noticed the unique and beautiful quilt on her bed and asked if I could take a picture of it. I believe she said a good friend made it for her years ago. I commented on the fact that she didn’t have any pillows on her bed. Rebecca replied that she didn’t sleep with a pillow. Gesturing to my flat chest, I told her that ever since my mastectomy, I can also sleep on my stomach without a pillow. Rebecca immediately answered, “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that your body is free from active cancer!” Once again, my friend reminded me what was really important in life. Rebecca had a way of doing that.

Rebecca's quilt

I will miss my special friend. And yet, I know that she is in a better place, and that God’s heavenly band of angels has one more violin player. I also have the assurance that I will see Rebecca again one day, and she will walk tall and will greet me with a plate of fresh baked cookies. In the meantime, I will focus on the blessing of meeting Rebecca, and thank God for the gift of knowing her. I’m fairly certain that’s the way Rebecca would have wanted it.

And so, in honor of Rebecca’s life and unforgettable, generous spirit, I would like to share the column I wrote for her shortly after our first meeting in June, 2004.

Picture of Contentment

“Now godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. And having food and clothing, with these we shall be content.”
~ I Timothy 6:6-8 (NKJV)

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

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

Rebecca Miller was born on November 23, 1919, at her grandparents’ home southwest of White City, Kansas. She spent the first 50 years of her life on farms around Wilsey, raising cattle, hogs and chickens and tending her garden. The next 30 years she lived in the town of Wilsey. After her house burned down several years ago, Rebecca moved to an apartment in Council Grove. She never complained about the fire. Instead, she chose to maintain a positive outlook. “Maybe it turned out for the best for me to move into Council Grove,” she stated. Rebecca loves her apartment and all her neighbors. “Nobody goes by Mr. or Mrs. here – we all just go by our first names.” I’m sure her neighbors love her, too. She’s known as “The Cookie Lady” because of the cookies and treats she bakes for the other residents and mail carriers. She gave me some of her delicious applesauce cookies when I visited.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ An Irish friendship wish

God’s blessings to you, my friend ~

Eileen

Rebecca Miller, June 7, 2007

Guest Poet: Gloria Gaither

“Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children; and walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us . . .”
~ Ephesians 5:1,2a (NASB)

WHEN DID I START TO LOVE YOU?
By Gloria Gaither
Copyright © 1977 Gloria Gaither.
All rights reserved. Used by permission.

Does love have a beginning that a meeting’s measured by?
Does it happen in a moment like white lightening from the sky?
Can you tell me its dimensions – just this wide and just this high?
When did I start to love you?

Tell me just how many dates it takes for love to really start?
And just how many kisses will turn “love” into an art?
When does the magic moment come to give away your heart?
When did I start to love you?

Was the day we talked of Browning the beginning of it all?
Or the time we walked the meadow and fields of corn so tall
That we felt like naughty children hiding from their mother’s call?
When did I start to love you?

I remember just how timidly your first new song you shared –
And by the way you grinned I knew you were glad you dared
Although my evaluation wasn’t worth much, still you cared.
When did I start to love you?

Was it when I went to meet you in a gown of snowy white?
Was it when we signed the license and drove off into the night?
Was it when I gave myself to you and felt that it was right?
When did I start to love you?

When I feared you wouldn’t love me if you knew how I’d been wrong,
And I spent a week in mis’ry, but you’d known it all along –
And you loved me ‘cause you love me, and not because I’m strong?
Was it then I came to love you?

Was it when we knew for certain ‘bout the baby on the way?
Did it start the day you told me I looked pretty – shaped that way?
Or did something special happen as we waited that last day…
When did I start to love you?

Did it happen when we held her in our arms for the first time?
Was it later when I nursed her, this creation – yours and mine?
And I knew compared to what we held the world’s not worth a dime!
When did I start to love you?

There were nights we stayed and prayed by babies, fevers burning hot
When we really didn’t know if they would make it through or not –
Then we’d face the dawn’s beginning, thanking God for what we’ve got –
When did I start to love you?

Was it rushing to the clinic with a bone in Amy’s throat?
Was it nights you saw me shivering and wrapped me in your coat?
Was it when I cleaned your bureau drawer, and found you’d saved my note?
When did I start to love you?

Was it when I saw you showing Benji how to be a man?
How to sheath his strength in meekness, how to gently take a stand –
How that only strength of character can salvage this old land?
When did I start to love you?

When you held me close in silence, when there were no words for grief–
When the line of empty caskets gaped at all I called belief –
When the “amen” was so final, I had you, and dared to leave –
Was it then I came to love you?

What is this stuff love’s made of that can cause the world to glow?
Is it that you made the segments that I brought you, well and whole?
Was it when I came to recognize the poet in your soul?
That I began to love you?

It’s not of lace and chocolate that valentines are made –
All such things are lovely but disintegrate and fade –
But love – when once it grows to be – is richer far than jade –
I only know – I love you!

“For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
~ II Peter 1:5-8

Back in the Saddle Again (Sort of)

“You don’t choose your family. They are God’s gift to you, as you are to them.”

~Desmond Tutu, South African teacher, cleric, activist, Nobel Peace Prize, 1984

We had another successful Van Kirk family reunion in Colorado with great weather, wonderful food, and lots of rafting and hiking. I’ve included a group picture taken at Mt. Princeton Hot Springs Resort.


As the title of this column suggests, I am only “sort of” ready to resume writing my column. Therefore, I will be relying on my friend Larry Welch to provide a guest column this week from his collection of stories titled, “On the Run in Singapore.” It is a tribute to his late friend, Rosemary Williams.

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

Rosemary Williams, 60, of Silver Spring, Maryland died June 4 in her home after a year-long fight with cancer. She was Director of Howard University's Cancer Center Tumor Registry.

Rosemary was a long distance friend and former colleague in the struggle to overcome breast cancer. I never met a more kind or thoughtful woman. For 10 years we worked together in Washington to raise dollars for breast cancer research and treatment; and create awareness for the importance of early detection of breast cancer. Well respected in her community, Rosemary was a powerful influence on others to do better in their lives.

Several months before she died, Rosemary sent me the following story she had written about her brother Conrad. I am reprinting it as a tribute to Rosemary and her brother, and to help us all think about doing better in our lives.

The Greatest Danger of All

"You know the things we fear most are not the things that happen. Often times the dangers come from the things that we do not fear, because those are the ones that we are not keeping alert to prevent from happening.

"My handsome brother, Conrad, was the first born of my parents’ three children. He was born May 6, 1942, in Homestead, Pennsylvania and except for one year in the Washington, DC area while he was on WOL Radio (as music director and newscaster from 1969-1970), he spent his life in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He also spent three years in the Army from 1960 to 1963.

"At about age 11 or 12, Conrad decided he wanted to box in the Golden Gloves. My parents were terrified. They knew one young man personally who had a permanent brain injury from boxing. My brother had a mind of his own and boxed for a number of years as an amateur and had a few professional fights in his early 20’s. He lost only one fight which was a decision. My father believed he would have done well as a welterweight boxer, but lost 3 years from the sport when he joined the military at age 18.

"Another danger came as one ended! My brother joined the US Army's 82nd Airborne. Of all things, he was jumping out of airplanes! My mother and I prayed daily for this paratrooper. Years later, my brother shared with me that he could not believe he was jumping out of planes. He had to be young to have done that. He went through a number of years when he would not fly in a commercial jet, because he was afraid of planes after an incident over the Gulf of Mexico. He and other soldiers were returning to Fort Bragg from Panama when one of the plane’s engines went out. My brother was at the door to parachute out, but the other guys stopped him and they all made it back to Fort Bragg on one engine.

"He married and had a family after military service. My family and I were breathing fine when he decided to become a disc jockey, later newscaster and talk show host on the radio. He was so admired by former teachers and classmates that he became something of a Pittsburgh celebrity. Then at age 33 he decided to fulfill his lifelong dream of becoming a law enforcement officer. He was a uniformed Pennsylvania State Police Officer for a number of years and then became an undercover officer. Much to the horror of my family, he spent about 25 years in this job. He was to retire in 2002 due to the required age 60 retirement for the Pennsylvania State Police. Then…

"He said to me one day that he felt something in his chest near his sternum. I told him to immediately see his doctor. He did not at that point, but did see the doctor several months later. A CT Scan of the chest was done. It showed a right lung mass. Being in the cancer field, I was horrified. He had been a cigarette smoker for 44 years. He had escaped so many dangers in life, I just kept believing that he would come out of this also.

"Conrad was admitted to a hospital for biopsy. He had his surgeon phone me to tell me the news since my field was cancer and he wanted me to make any decisions about his care. He had “squamous cell carcinoma” of the lung. There was no doubt that this type of cancer is cigarette related.

"Someone who had survived boxing, parachuting, and bullets as a state trooper now couldn't escape lung cancer. The greatest danger of all was his cigarettes. I had tried to tell him for years to stop smoking, but he just laughed off my fears.

"The American Cancer Society estimated that in 2005 there were more than 175,000 cancer deaths caused by tobacco use. When Conrad began smoking at age 16, death at age 59 ½ was hard for him to imagine.

"I want all the beautiful young people who smoke to know that life is very short, so please do not rush it away. Quit now while you have a chance to change the course of your life. Look for smoking cessation programs or just realize you need to quit for your loved ones who would be devastated by an untimely loss caused by what may also be your greatest danger of all."

IN CLOSING, cancer deaths related to tobacco usage is the second major cause of death in the world with about 5 million people a year meeting their maker. Of the 1.1 billion people who smoke, about half will die prematurely. And there's not much hope for the future: 100,000 young people a day start smoking. By any measure, tobacco-related premature death is at an epidemic proportion. If you are a smoker, quit today! If you don't smoke, help someone who does by encouraging them to quit. We owe it to each other to preserve life where we can.

Note: See www.smokefree.gov for resources to help to quit smoking.

Changes on the Horizon

“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven.” ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1 (NKJV)


This week I’m writing to inform you about some changes on the horizon for me and my column. First of all, I’ll be taking the next six weeks off from writing Reflections, so my next column won’t be until the second week in August. Hopefully I’ll have some news to report by then about when my book will be available for purchase.

My main reason for taking this time off is to concentrate on working through the details of the publishing process with Xulon Press. In addition, Keen and I are in charge of planning this year’s Van Kirk Family Reunion which will be held in Colorado next month. So I’ll have my hands full.

“They say the two hardest things about doing something is getting started and getting finished.” ~ Anonymous

When I start writing again in August, I plan to implement a few new ideas for creating some diversity with my column. These various ideas will not appear in any specific order. I will simply alternate them to provide more variety to my writing.

The first idea involves interviewing senior citizens (primarily those over 80) and writing about their life stories. I’ve always believed that every life is a story in itself – complete with joys, sorrows and lessons learned – which consequently makes for some fascinating reading. The title of this segment will be: “Every Life a Story.”

The second idea involves periodically publishing a “Dear Abby” type of format titled, “Ask Eileen.” In order to pull that off, however, I will need your help. The basic premise of this feature would be to offer Bible-based answers to everyday problems. So if you have a question you’ve always wondered about, please email it to me at: AskEileen@aol.com, and I'll do my best to research the answer/ solution from the Bible. If I can’t provide an answer, I’ll try to find someone who can. Keep in mind that your questions, along with my response, may be used in a future column. However, you don’t need to include your name. In fact, even if you do include your name, I won’t use it in the column. All in all, I think it sounds kind of fun and I’d like to give it a try. Once again, it will only work if people choose to participate.

My third idea is to have a “Guest Poet” week where I will simply publish a poem by one of my friends such as Patricia Barrett or Connie Hinnen Cook. That will provide me with a built-in break or additional time to work on a future column.

Lastly, I currently have hundreds of topics on a variety of issues for use in future columns. These topic ideas are listed on my computer under the heading, “Reflections in Progress.” Occasionally, I will choose one of the topics to write about. The title I’ve chosen for this segment will be: “Living and Learning.”

My primary goal in all of this is to get away from sharing a weekly play-by-play account of every detail of our life. Even though our life seems to provide a never-ending supply of material to write about and I could most likely continue my current pattern ad nauseam, I just think it’s time for me to branch out into other areas. I mean – enough about us already!

I guess that about wraps it up for this, my shortest column on record. And in the words of the famous Nat King Cole song, I hope you all enjoy these “lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer.”

I’ll catch you on the flip side. In the meantime, keep looking up!

"I lift up my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip—He who watches over you will not slumber. . . "

~ Psalm 121:1-3

One in a Million Dream

"I have learned, that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours."

~ Henry David Thoreau

This past weekend Keen and I attended the Symphony in the Flint Hills near Eskridge. It was an incredible experience to be seated in the open prairie with 6,000 people listening to beautiful music while enjoying a breathtaking view of the Flint Hills and a sunset painted by the Creator’s own hand.



On a different subject; recently I was talking with an author who said that he spent five years and tens of thousands of dollars on agents who assured him that he would get his fees back when they located a publisher for his book. The publisher never came, and he ended up self-publishing. He stated that he doesn’t anticipate recouping the money spent; however, the book has opened doors for him with his consulting business. He also gave me the statistics on how difficult it is for new authors to be picked up by one of the big publishing companies, and it is literally one in a million. That’s why he advises other first-time authors to have a primary source of income and not to plan on using their book as a revenue stream. While his advice was discouraging, it was true and helped confirm that I was making the right decision by self-publishing.

Lately my manuscript editor and I have been fine-tuning some of the details of the book before I turn it over to Xulon Press. This week she will be proof-reading it one more time in hopes of catching any grammatical or spelling errors before it goes to press. By next week, I should be ready to send it off to Xulon, and after that we’re looking at 45-60 days before it will be available to the public. At that time, anyone who wants to buy a copy will be able to go to several different web sites to purchase the book – and that will be that.

Although I would have liked to strike a deal with the New York Literary Agency which expressed interest in my book early on, I am satisfied with knowing that I accomplished what I set out to do – even though it took me much longer than I originally anticipated. This version of the book is well documented and tells both sides of the story. It contains letters from lawyers, newspaper articles, minutes of commission meetings, judges'rulings, court transcripts and personal experiences we had along the way which arose from Keen’s decision to express his personal opinions about the actions of the Wabaunsee County Commissioners. As I have shared with you before, the sequel to this book will be the version I am most anxious to share. It will contain word for word excerpts from my personal journals, portraying the behind-the-scenes realities of what it was like for our family to withstand years of conflict culminating in a five-year legal battle.

I’ve always had a dream that there would be a book and a movie about our story, and with the publication of this book, part of that dream will become a reality. I have personally been inspired by so many movies based on real life stories about people who overcame difficult circumstances. Our story conveys such a tale, but only because God’s grace was with us every step of the way. We claim no personal credit for the unexpected events that have arisen from such an unlikely tool as a trashman and his wife. How could we? The only explanation for why or how we survived fifteen years of on-again, off-again conflict with the commissioners is by the grace and goodness and faithfulness of God.

The Bible says that as the Heavens are higher than the earth, so are His ways higher than our ways, and His thoughts, than our thoughts. It also says that we should not despise the days of small beginnings. So if God can use a trashman to change the law of the land for private contractors across the nation, then who knows what He can or will do with my simple, self-published book. All I know is that I believe God is still in the miracle-working business and that all things are possible for him who believes.

“. . . [A]s the Scripture says, What eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and has not entered into the heart of man, all that, God has prepared – made and keeps ready – for those who love Him, that is, for those who hold Him in affectionate reverence, promptly obeying Him and gratefully recognizing the benefits He has bestowed.”

~ I Corinthians 1:9 (Amp)

In closing, I would like to share something that my stepmother emailed me recently. I think it ties in perfectly with the message I am trying to convey.

“When you see God’s hand in everything, it is easy to leave everything in God’s hands.” ~ Anonymous

Hands

A basketball in my hands is worth about $19.00.
A basketball in Michael Jordan's hands is worth about $33 million.
It depends whose hands it's in.

A baseball in my hands is worth about $6.00.
A baseball in Roger Clemens' hands is worth $4.75 million.
It depends on whose hands it's in.

A tennis racket is useless in my hands.
A tennis racket in Andre Agassi's hands is worth millions.
It depends whose hands it's in.

A rod in my hands will keep away an angry dog.
A rod in Moses' hands will part the mighty sea.
It depends whose hands it's in.

A slingshot in my hands is a kid's toy.
A slingshot in David's hand is a mighty weapon.
It depends whose hands it's in.

Two fish and 5 loaves of bread in my hands is a couple of fish sandwiches.
Two fish and 5 loaves of bread in Jesus' hands will feed thousands.
It depends whose hands it's in.

Nails in my hands might produce a birdhouse.
Nails in Jesus Christ's hands will produce salvation for the entire world.
It depends whose hands it's in.

So put your concerns, your worries, your fears, your hopes, your dreams, your families, and your relationships in God's hands...
Because it depends whose hands it's in.

"Now unto Him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us."

~ Ephesians 3:20

More Scenes from The Symphony in The Flint Hills

Cause for Celebration

“A day merely survived is no cause for celebration. You are not here to fritter away your precious hours when you have the ability to accomplish so much by making a slight change in your routine. No more busy work. No more hiding from success. Leave time, leave space, to grow. Now. Now! Not tomorrow!”

~ Og Mandino, American Essayist and Psychologist (1923-1996)

My first “cause for celebration” involves a long-awaited progress report on my book. On May 31st, I made the decision to have my book published by a company called Xulon Press. Although I had to pay them, instead of them paying me, at least it will be published and available online for anyone who wants to purchase it. (I will receive a small royalty fee for every book sold.) But the important thing for me is that I accomplished my goal and completed the task I’ve been working on for so many years.

This past weekend, Keen and I had two more reasons to celebrate: our granddaughter Katelyn’s 1st birthday and our 29th anniversary.

The celebration got off to an early start on Friday morning when I received a surprise delivery from Rags to Riches Flowers and Gifts in Alma. The gorgeous bouquet of flowers came with a note from Keen which read: “You are the love of my life.”

“A wedding anniversary is the celebration of love, trust, partnership, tolerance and tenacity. The order varies for any given year.”

~ Paul Sweeney

The note and flowers brought tears to my eyes. You see, Keen has never been one to send flowers for special occasions – at least not on a consistent basis. And there was a time when this caused me a great deal of (needless) frustration. I recall one rather heated argument when I expressed my dismay over this fact by angrily telling Keen: “There are THREE dates you need to remember! I was born on July 3rd; we were married on June 10th, and I’M A MOTHER!!!!!”

One Valentine’s Day while Keen was in law school he stopped by the flower shop on his way home, only to learn (to his horror) that they were completely sold out of flowers. Not wishing to incur my spousal wrath, Keen asked the clerk if she would sign a note stating that he had attempted to buy flowers. But I am happy to report that I’ve matured since then, and have come to realize that it is so much more important to have a husband who treats me well 365 days a year, than to have one who sends me flowers a couple times a year – and then treats me poorly the rest of the time. (For those of you who have both – count your blessings!)

"But love . . . is more than three words mumbled before bedtime. Love is sustained by action, a pattern of devotion in the things we do for each other every day."

~ Nicholas Sparks

I’d like to share the following email my sister Mary sent me after I forwarded a picture of the bouquet and note I received from Keen:

“You are so blessed to be reaffirmed every day! Doesn't it make you feel brave? And now you get to enjoy those beautiful flowers as a reminder of the time, effort and emotion that he put into that gesture. He is a great guy! You both deserve each other. Could you have ever imagined all of this on a warm night in Singapore? I am so happy for you!”

Here is my reply:

“You are such a poet and a gifted writer. Yes, it does make me feel brave, although I’ve never put it in so many words. But I have often said that when Keen and I are in perfect harmony, I can move mountains; but when we’re not, I’m completely stymied and can't accomplish anything. Maybe that's a good thing, huh? And no, I never imagined this on that warm Singapore night in March of '74. But I guess you did, because your first question to me when I returned from our first date was: ‘Do you think he’s someone you could marry?’”

And Mary’s response:

“It makes me happy to know that you feel brave, because it means that you truly feel and appreciate the strength you get from being completely loved, supported and celebrated.”

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

Since Keen arrived home early on Friday, we decided to drive to Council Grove and take our chances that the Cottage House would have an opening. Sure enough, they had two rooms available, one of which was the Bridal Suite. We were so pleased! As always, we enjoyed our stay, along with a wonderful meal at the Hays House and a peaceful stroll around the historic town. Before we left on Saturday, I also enjoyed a brief visit with my dear friend, Rebecca Miller.

Along the way to Wichita we stopped at several small towns such as Peabody, Marion, Pilsen, and Burdick (population 60).

When we arrived at Josh and Lisa’s lovely new home, we were greeted by the birthday girl, her parents, and maternal grandparents, Gary and Linda Kaus.


It was such a treat to watch Katelyn open her presents and demolish her lady bug birthday cake (homemade by Mommy).


Not surprisingly, Katelyn seemed to enjoy the wrapping paper, ribbons and boxes more than the actual gifts!



Katelyn with Grandma and Grandpa Kaus and....

...Grandma and Grandpa Umbehr

After the party, we all went for a leisurely walk and enjoyed seeing the beautiful homes in the nearby College Hill neighborhood.


That evening, Keen and I took our chances once again, and were blessed to find another beautiful suite open at the famous hotel in the Old Town district of Wichita. The 100-year-old landmark was originally the home of the Morton-Simmons Warehouse, distributor of Keen Kutter tools, whose company slogan was, “The Recollection of Quality Remains Long after the Price is Forgotten.” The historic building was given new life in 1998 when entrepreneur Jack DeBoer began what would become an 11-million-dollar renovation project. The result is a luxurious 115-room hotel simply named: The Hotel at Old Town. I highly recommend it for anyone wishing to commemorate a special event. (www.hotelatoldtown.com)

During our drive home, my husband of 29 years topped off our weekend by taking my hand, and with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye, saying: “I love you so much. I’m just crazy about you.”

I ask: What more could a white-haired, breast-less, soon-to-be 49-year old woman possibly want?

“Love is like a mustard seed; planted by God and watered by men.”

~ Muda Saint Michael

Catching Up

“A family is a unit composed not only of children but of men, women, an occasional animal, and the common cold.” ~ Ogden Nash

So much has happened lately that I should have titled this column: “Catching my breath!” At any rate, it would probably take me a month’s worth of columns to go into detail on the “current events” of our lives, but in the interest of brevity, I’ve decided to come up with a condensed version.

The excitement started off with a welcome visit from Jared, Erin, Asher, Gabe and little Emma. We had a wonderful reunion with everyone in one place for the first time in almost two years.

Proud Daddy and Uncle Jared holding Emma & Katelyn after the girl cousins meet for the first time.

Josh’s good friend Travis, and Kirk’s girlfriend, Claudia,took turns with the camera in an attempt to capture one photograph of our entire family for this year’s Christmas card.

Kirk & Claudia

In spite of taking dozens of pictures, there was something amiss with almost every single one. For example, Jared lifted Asher and Gabe up on his shoulders, and in several shots, you couldn’t even see Jared; it was like the boys were just suspended in mid-air.


Then Keener’s dog Art and Travis’ dog Ollie added some excitement as well as they attempted to wiggle free.

Of course we had the proverbial crying baby shots.

"I'm tired of family pictures, Grandpa!"

And no family picture-taking session would be complete without somebody giving somebody else bunny ears!

Two weekends ago we enjoyed the double celebration of Kirk’s graduation from Manhattan High School and Josh’s graduation from the University of Kansas Medical School. Keen’s entire family (including our 3-month-old great niece, Melanie Jean) all came up from Texas to help us celebrate both events. It was our first gathering since Keen’s father passed away, and we really felt his absence.

On Friday, we hosted a barbecue with friends and family to celebrate Kirk’s graduation. We had a nice crowd, including Kirk’s former babysitter, Janie Barnes, and several of his Alma friends, making the evening extra special (and nostalgic).


The next day Josh and Lisa treated the entire family to a wonderful meal down on the Plaza. Afterwards we went to their apartment for cookies and iced tea before leaving for the graduation and hooding ceremony. When they announced, “Dr. Joshua Jim Umbehr”, Keener expressed his pride and enthusiasm by shouting: “That’s my brother!” At which time Josh turned to the audience and said, “And that’s my brother.” It was an amazing day commemorating an amazing accomplishment, and no one cried more than Grandma Umbehr.

“I just wish Jim could have been here,” she said.



The weather was exceptionally beautiful all weekend, which was a real blessing. On Sunday, we all headed to Bramlage Coliseum for Kirk’s graduation.



Watching our “baby” graduate somehow made me feel like I was graduating, too. Oh, I know we never really “graduate” from being mothers. But there is a definite change in our role after our children turn eighteen and graduate from high school. It just felt like a very significant day for me, too, considering the fact that I’ve spent the majority of my life being a stay-at-home mom.

On May 22nd, Emma Eileen celebrated her own little milestone when she turned the "Big 01!" She is growing up so fast. From the pictures they sent of her birthday party, it looks like she’s gotten bigger just since we saw her.



On May 24th, our son Keen II underwent surgery at Mercy Health Center to remove his enlarged tonsils. Typically, tonsils are removed in childhood, but Keener never really had any problems with chronic sore throats when he was young. Then in his late teens and early 20’s, he had several episodes of strep throat, which caused the doctors to advise him to have the tonsils removed. Dr. Barlow in Manhattan confirmed the diagnosis, so surgery was scheduled between the end of Keen’s regular classes at K-State and the beginning of his summer classes. (By the end of this summer, he will have taken 53 credit hours in one year.) When the nurse was escorting me back to Keener’s room after his surgery, she said, “I had my tonsils removed two years ago, and I would never do it again!” That gave me an idea of the amount and severity of pain Keen would be in for, and sure enough, she was right. After the 10th day Keen said he was just “sick of being sick.” But thank God, he came through it pretty well, with only a slight complication when the doctor had to go back and cauterize the wound to prevent bleeding. (The definition of cauterize is to burn tissue to stop bleeding: to seal a wound, or destroy abnormal or infected tissue, with a heated instrument, a laser, an electric current, or a caustic substance. In Keen’s case, they used a caustic substance. Ouch!)

Keener before and after surgery



On a lighter note, this Thursday, June 7th, Katelyn Seraphina will be celebrating her 1st birthday. It’s so hard to believe.

We’ll be traveling to Wichita this weekend for her birthday party which will be held in their new house. (Josh will be doing his three-year residency at Wesley Medical Center.)

So I think that brings us all up to date. The next big event in our lives will be the celebration of our 29th wedding anniversary on June 10th. Since we’ll already be in Wichita for Katelyn’s birthday, we’ll probably break tradition and stay in a hotel down there. (We almost always go to the Cottage House in Council Grove.) I’ll fill you in on most of the details next week! :)

“When you look at your life, the greatest happinesses are family happinesses.” ~Joyce Brothers

Setting Sail

“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

This weekend two of our four sons will be celebrating major milestones and setting sail on two adventurous life journeys. Our second son, Joshua Jim, will be graduating from medical school, and our youngest son, Kirk Van, will be graduating from high school. We are so proud of their accomplishments, as any parents would be, and our hearts overflow with hopes and prayers for their continued success.

Several years ago, Michael Ryan from the Topeka Capital-Journal editorial board wrote an inspiring message for graduates which he permitted me to share. He wrote in part about the pursuit of happiness:

“The late Dr. Viktor Frankl, a concentration camp survivor and world-renowned psychiatrist, suggested that . . . you [should] pursue the types of things that bring lasting happiness, and then just let it ensue.

What are those things? Well, one is simply to give yourself over to a cause that transcends yourself. It is one of life's most intriguing ironies that the happiest people in the world seem to be those who think about themselves the least.

Another route to happiness is simply doing the right thing. They may not have made this point as clear as you'd like in school, either: Doing the right thing will be the most difficult thing you ever do.

It sounds bizarre, doesn't it? You would think that doing the right thing would come easily. But it's the hardest thing of all. It means self-sacrifice -- perhaps even giving up your life for someone else. It means eschewing self-gratification -- and that never feels good.
Perhaps more surprisingly, doing the right thing means standing up to an occasional storm of criticism. Oddly enough, often it follows that doing the right thing will make you controversial, even hated. Standing up for the right thing often puts you in the way of what others want. And they will do whatever it takes to move you aside.

How do you know what is right? We most often do, although we like to fool ourselves into thinking we don't. And at those times you really don't know, you take your best shot based upon what you believe. And you hope for the best.

Hope for the best. Now, isn't that what graduation is all about?”

******************
In his book titled Simple Truths, author Kent 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 in the world. He suggests 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. . . .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.”

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

When I contacted the author of this next poem about permission to republish, she wrote: “How very sweet of you to honor my work in this way. Yes, of course you may print it, and I hope it is a source of comfort to those whom it will reach.”

Sandra Sturtz Hauss wrote this poem in 1982 for her son, but I believe every parent will relate to the sentiments she shares. I know it definitely captured the essence of my heart’s desire for my children.

My Wishes For You
By Sandra Sturtz Hauss

May you find serenity and tranquility
in a world you may not always understand.

May the pain you have known
and the conflict you have experienced
give you the strength to walk through life
facing each new situation with courage and optimism.

Always know that there are those
whose love and understanding will always be there,
even when you feel most alone.

May a kind word, a reassuring touch, and a warm smile
be yours every day of your life,
and may you give these gifts
as well as receive them.

May the teachings of those you admire
become part of you,
so that you may call upon them.

Remember, those whose lives you have touched
and who have touched yours
are always a part of you,
even if the encounters were less than you would have wished.
It is the content of the encounter
that is more important than its form.

May you not become too concerned with material matters,
but instead place immeasurable value
on the goodness in your heart.
Find time in each day to see beauty and love
in the world around you.

Realize that what you feel you lack in one regard
you may be more than compensated for in another.
What you feel you lack in the present
may become one of your strengths in the future.
May you see your future as one filled with promise and possibility.
Learn to view everything as a worthwhile experience.

May you find enough inner strength
to determine your own worth by yourself,
and not be dependent on
another's judgment of your accomplishments.

May you always feel loved.

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

Finally, this is a poem I wrote four years ago when Josh was getting ready to graduate from Kansas State University in May, get married to Lisa Marie Kaus in July, and enter medical school at the University of Kansas in August.

Just Yesterday
By Eileen Umbehr

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?


Congratulations and God’s blessings to Josh, Kirk, and all the area graduates and their parents!

Eileen with Josh (age 6 months)

Eileen with Kirk (age 10 months)

On Motherhood

“A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. The tongue of the wise commends knowledge, but the mouth of the fool gushes folly.” ~ Proverbs 15:1-2

When I told Keen that I wrote about my problem with anger last week, you might have expected him to say something like: “Well it’s about time you got honest about that!” Or, “Good – I’ve been trying to tell you to get help for years!” But nope. My one-in-a-million, God-broke-the-mold-after-He-made-him husband simply replied: “Bigger diamonds take more polishing.”

“Now no chastening seems to be joyful for the present, but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.” ~ Hebrews 12:11

Last week I also shared about how I once aspired to become a witch. But I distinctly remember dreaming about becoming a wife and mother, too. One would imagine that those goals were utterly incompatible; but I submit that my “witchy” side served me quite well as the outnumbered mother of four sons (and one big kid)! In fact, I seriously doubt whether I would have survived the experience without it! (It was them or me!)

On a serious note, May 7th marked the 18th anniversary of my own mother’s death from breast cancer. My mom raised nine children and suffered two miscarriages. She was a registered nurse. She was a loving mother, wife, sister, daughter and friend. If ever there was a saint, it was my mom. But even saints aren’t perfect, and my mom was no exception. She lost her temper, too – and understandably so. (I don’t know many mothers who haven’t. Calgon, take me away.)

The Van Kirk Family on Easter morning (before child #9 - Bob - was born).

Many years ago, when my brother Joe called to tell us that Mom may not live to see another Christmas, I faced my biggest fear. What would happen if Mom passed away without ever knowing how much I loved her? I sobbed and sobbed at the thought, yet for some reason, saying the words, “I love you,” didn’t come easily for me. Keen encouraged me to find a way to tell her how I felt, lest I be forced to live with unbearable regret.

So one day I got up the courage to call my mom on the telephone. Her voice was weak; mine was shaking. “Mom?” “Yes, honey?” “Mom, I’m not saying you’re going to die, but if you ever did die and I never told you how much I love you, I just couldn’t live with myself.” “Oh, thank you dear,” Mom replied. “I love you, too.” “And Mom? I just want you to know that I only have good feelings and memories of my childhood. Being a mother myself now, I understand how difficult parenting can be and how easy it is to lose patience. But I only have the highest feelings of respect and admiration in my heart for you, Mom.” In a choked up voice, she softly replied: “That means more to me than you’ll ever know, Eileen.”

The peace that came over me after that conversation is indescribable. My mom – the one who carried me in her womb, took care of me when I was sick, and loved me in spite of my “icky” disposition – knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I loved and appreciated her more than words could say. She did not go to her grave without knowing that.

She Loved Us Well
By Eileen Umbehr

Before my mother passed away
Eighteen years ago, on the 7th of May
I told her that I understood
She loved us well, did the best she could

I did not want her, to feel upset
In her last days, have one regret
She was the best mom, without a doubt
She knew what motherhood, was all about

Our holidays were always special
Easter baskets and Christmas stockings always full
And on our birthdays, we were kings and queens
With ice cream and cake, and our favorite cuisine

We were all taught, right from wrong
And faith in God, made our family strong
Kisses and hugs, were freely given
Tears were dried, offenses forgiven

I remember a time, when she assigned me a chore
I did not want to do; thought it was a bore
My mother sat beside me, on the stairs
And talked with me quietly, about life’s cares

“Along life’s way, oh daughter of mine,
There will be difficulties, you will find
I wish I could tell you, that all will be merry
But the truth is that life, is not a bowl full of cherries.”

The softness of her speech, and her gentle way
Made such an impression, on me that day
That’s why I should remember, speak in softer tones
For nothing is accomplished, when we throw stones

Later on in my life, as a struggling mother
Problems seemed to follow, one after another
Mom said don’t be afraid, to ask for help
It’s so much better, than trying to do it by yourself.”

I guess I could go on, about the lessons I have learned
From a mother who always gave, seeking nothing in return
I only hope my kids will say, when my life on earth is through:
“She loved us well and did the very best that she could do.”

Mom Eileen with four sons - from left to right, Kirk Van, Keen Alfred II, Jared Joseph, and Joshua Jim