faithful...

It is with deep sadness that I tell you this blog has lost one of its most faithful readers.   

And this world has lost one of its most treasured men.

I have lost my sweet Grandpa.

  

Though he lived so healthy, independent and strong for 94 years, 

I am left broken-hearted to think he's now gone.

Though we lived thousands of miles apart, Grandpa felt connected through this blog.

I knew he was reading.  

My eyes fill with tears knowing he's no longer on the other end of these words.

Grandpa was faithful.

Faithful to his wife of almost 50 years.

Faithful to his church for over 70 years.

And faithful to send birthday and Christmas cards, even for 24 years after Grandma went to be with Jesus.

So much of my life can be attributed to him.  

He chose to live with very little materially, and he gave so much of his resources away.

As I look at my children, tears come to my eyes

because with all of the costs of adoption, 

I don't know that we could've done it without him.

When we adopted a black son, I didn't know what he would think.

Transracial adoption can be harder to swallow for older generations.

But he cheered us on the entire way.  

He mailed many typed letters

saying how proud he was of me for adopting Jameson, 

and how he looked up to me for the way 

I want to incorporate Jameson's culture into our family.

I had a fan in Grandpa.  

His love and support, though long distance, 

has been an undercurrent throughout my life.

A kinder man you've never met.  

His mind could recall specific dates and specific amounts from decades past.

He cared about every little detail.

And now He is with Jesus.

I loved Grandpa.  

And I will miss him.

papa...

Today, Marc's father went to be with Jesus.

He was a faithful husband for 61 years.

But around my house, he was affectionately known as "Papa."

He was the grandparent that loved you to the moon and back.

first time meeting Caroline

first time meeting Jameson

From the first time meeting my babies, he was smitten.  Though they weren't through his bloodline, he loved them just the same.

When he was able to travel, he loved nothing more than to ride up the road to come and visit us.

He'd save up all his pennies and give them to Caroline for ice cream money.

Although he gradually lost his eyesight, he kept his humor as well as his title "King of the Twist."

Over the years, Papa's walking stick made for a great microphone.

And Papa's leg made for a great horse-y.

But it was Papa's love and Papa's humor that we'll remember forever.

As Papa's health declined in recent years, and the "long goodbye" of dementia set in, we watched Papa able to do less, but love more. 

We watched a faithful wife serve day after day.

Jameson loved to help Papa

And as Papa needed more and more care, God was so faithful to provide it to him.  

Our hearts are broken this day.

My children have lost their Papa.

A wife has lost her husband.

My husband has lost his father.

And our family has lost its patriarch.

But what a beautiful legacy he leaves behind.

We know death is not the end.

We know that one day He will swallow up death and wipe the tears from our faces.  (Isaiah 25:8)

Just as sure as the body of Jesus was raised from the dead, so will all of those who trust in Him be raised again.

Papa, we already miss you like crazy.   It just feels like you should still be sitting in your chair at home enjoying some candy.

But well done to a life well-lived.  

You will be remembered as a man that loved Jesus and his family above all else.

We will surely see you again.

dreams come true...

In some ways it feels like he can't be 3 years old already.  (Where's my baby boy??)

In other ways, my life is so vastly different now that it hardly seems possible Jameson's only been in the world three years!

But it's true.

My sweet guy turned 3 this weekend.

And all his dreams came true for his birthday:

1.  He wanted an "excavator cake."  (thank you, Nanny, for making that happen!)

2.  And he wanted an excavator.  (thank you, Mamie!)

It was a whirlwind of a trip down to South Carolina and back in 24 hours, but Jameson wouldn't have wanted to celebrate any other way than with his cousins at Nanny's house. 

make a wish!

And celebrate we DID.

Happy birthday to you,
happy birthday to you,
happy birthday, dear Jameson,
happy birthday to you!

When it came time for cake, cousin Elijah had a better way to eat it.

Ha ha ha ha!

 Caroline sewed this sweet tool belt for Jameson by herself.

(She's been taking sewing lessons with a dear older woman in our church each week.  Great job, CC!)

 And what three year old boy wouldn't love swords and more swords... diggers and more diggers...

 But here was the only thing he wanted in the world:

an excavator he could actually work.

So Mamie got him a remote-controlled excavator, and all his dreams came true.  

I had the idea to dump some dry rice in a tupperware container so he could actually do some scooping.

HEAVEN. ON. EARTH. for Jameson.


(I'll pat myself on the back for that fleeting moment of motherhood brillance...ha!)

 Marc's father, "Papa," is sadly suffering with blindness and dementia.  Mr. Randy has blessed our family with his faithful and tender care of Papa now for a few years.  

Each time we visit, Jameson wants to jump in to help Papa in different ways.  My sweet boy.

Jameson, little did we know you'd be a part of our family.

But now we can't even fathom it without you.

We loved watching your birthday dreams come true this weekend.

But YOU, my son, are surely the dream come true.

weary...

Marc meeting with student small-group leaders

The semester continues.

We're only two weeks in, and so far it's going really well!  Our student ministry team is catching the vision and taking ownership of this group more than we've seen in previous groups.  As we're pouring into them, they're pouring into others, and it's exciting to see the relationships being formed, even among students who would have never been friends ordinarily.

As I'm caring for my children, leading our church worship team, and hosting college students here in Virginia, I suppose things are going pretty well!  But right now, my heart is most definitely in Texas.

After the scare in the ICU, my dad was continuing to recover at a rehab hospital when just a few days ago, his oxygen suddenly dropped dangerously low AGAIN.  He was rushed BACK to the ER, where it appears he's now experiencing rejection issues with his transplanted lung.  At this point, the doctors are treating the rejection with heavy-duty antibiotics and steroids, and hopefully all will respond and he'll be on his way again towards recovery.  But all this throws yet another obstacle in the way of recovering from his knee replacement surgery.

My dad's been in the hospital going on a month now.  At one point, we didn't know if he was going to live.  And then things begin to improve, and we're back to square one again.

I know Dad is physically and emotionally weary.  So is my Mom.  (So am I.)  This keeps going on and on.  Here's a man with numerous post-graduate degrees, and his biggest accomplishment today would be to sit at the edge of his bed for 20 minutes.  It's heartbreaking to hear your usually strong father breaking down crying to you over the phone.  (I know the heavy steroids are contributing to his very real feelings.)   You can pray for his mental and emotional state right now as he just wants to go HOME and all this to go away.

One of my dearest old friends in Texas, Ellen, who herself has experienced a parent with severe medical issues in recent years, blessed our family when she called in and treated us to a FEAST of our favorite indian food last night.  Yummmm! Such a thoughtful and delicious treat.  Thank you for caring for us, my sweet friend!

Thank you to so many of you who have prayed for my family during this past crazy month.

burned out...

If ever there were a metaphor for what life feels like right now, this burnt, ashy tub of Easy Mac in my microwave might just be it!...


It was minutes before the "welcome back" party for our college students last night.  The house was unusually clean.  We were heating up a few leftovers for a quick dinner, and for an easy, crowd-pleasing supplement to the kids' meals, I pulled out a tub of mac n cheese.

"Caroline, I need you to make this while I run upstairs for a few minutes," I said, not thinking twice about my request.  She'd made it at school a million times before.  I heard the microwave begin, and soonafter I heard the front door slam as she and Jameson rushed outside to greet our neighbors, leaving the microwave unattended.

A few minutes later, as Marc and I started downstairs, we immediately smelled smoke.  Suprisingly, no alarms had been triggered. (we'll be fixing that...) "Something's on fire!" I yelled, as we both ran through the billows of smoke throughout our downstairs trying to find the source.  It wasn't until we opened up the microwave to see that pile of clumped-together, charred Easy Mac noodles that everything made sense.  Caroline had forgot to put water in the container before she nuked it for three minutes.

Thankfully, our house didn't go up in flames.

But, nevertheless, what would this mean for our party (a cereal mixer, we were calling it) for all of the college students IN JUST A FEW MINUTES?!?!!!

We threw open all the doors and windows to let the smoke out.  (Ooooh, my type A personality was anything but calm in the moment if you can imagine.)  The smoke began getting to us, though, and it was obvious we couldn't stay inside any longer.  What were we going to do?...

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

Meet Taylor.  He's from Memphis, and he'll be our new RUF intern for the next two years!  Over the summer, he's worked hard to raise the financial support needed to move here and begin ministering to our college students.  Two weeks ago, he pulled into to Lynchburg and it was a great joy to help him move in and get the new school year started off RIGHT.

 The next morning at church, I started getting texts from my mom during church.

My dad had been recovering from a knee replacement surgery all week, and suddenly, things were taking a drastic turn for the worse.

They're taking Dad to the ER.  He's having trouble breathing.

It looks like Dad's [transplanted] lung has pneumonia, and it's serious.  He's going to ICU.

They're going to have to sedate him and put him on the ventilator (aka life support) because it's getting worse and he's unable to breathe on his own.

My mom was scared.  I was, too.

I hopped on the first plane I could.  

My sister flew out the next day from Chicago.

There's no way to describe seeing your father on life support with a hundred different tubes and lines running to and fro.  

I saw him this way in ICU once before, after his lung transplant two years ago.  That recovery was NO fun, but this time was worse.  And scarier.  He was so lifeless.  And though his body was right before me, he seemed so far away.

(I'll be honest, y'all.  This is very painful to type right now.  I don't want to relive the terrible days I've just experienced.)  

Making our beds in the ICU waiting room

My mom and I camped out in the waiting room of the ICU along with several other families my first night there.  I'll just say it was anything but restful.  

The days slowly passed.  We waited for any piece of new news or information the doctors could give us.  Would he make it?  Would he be okay? 

X-rays were looking worse each day.  Now they were finding blood in the lung.  The doctors weren't reassuring us in the least.  

Though it was a struggle, I decided I wasn't going to put my hope in the "numbers" or even in the doctors.  I knew who ultimately holds my Dad's life in His hands, no matter how things may appear to seem.

And to think, all this started with a routine KNEE surgery, and here we were on life support in the ICU.   Just like the burnt mac'n'cheese in my microwave, this plan was taking a drastic turn from what it was supposed to be.   

Pastor J from our former home church in Dallas 

Can I just say, though, that in the midst of our great sorrow, God provided so much comfort.  

In the midst of what appeared to be endless WAITING, God gave us evidence that He was, indeed, hard at WORK.

Our former church in Dallas sent pastors and elders to visit and pray with us.

We were given opportunity after opportunity to discuss God's faithfulness with several other families in the ICU, and some of them boldly spoke Christ's love and goodness to ME when I needed to hear it.

Hundreds of friends and loved ones across the country were praying for my dad, and for us, and I cannot tell them all "thank you" enough.

A dear, old friend came and brought me some of my favorites.

And you know, there was even something wildly comforting about the Elvis impersonator in the hospital's lobby, too.

Even as he slept on life support, my sister and I read scripture to my dad.  

We held his hand and told him Jesus was holding him.

I'd break down in tears every time I left his side. 

Day after day we waited and watched.

And then one day, the doctor told us, "He's out of the woods."

And we oh-so-cautiously rejoiced.

Bringing my dad out of sedation was quite the challenge.

We all watched and prayed as the doctors made several attempts.

Finally.  FINALLY he was breathing steadily on his own and the tube came OUT.

We were by his side as he literally came to life again.

He was confused and anxious, and obviously had no idea he'd been sleeping for 5 days.

(even a week later, he is still trying to piece together what happened)

It felt like as soon as he was awake enough to say hello, I had to say goodbye.

He had JUST made it into a chair for the first time.  (with lots of help, of course)

It was one of the hardest goodbyes of my entire life.  

It wasn't time to go.  

He still had (and has) a long, long road ahead of him.  (Please continue to pray with me for his ongoing recovery as he's now been transferred to a rehabilitation hospital.)

But I had a hubby who was making grand attempts to keep the homefront alive and functioning.  (And I'll add that our new intern, Taylor, was a HUGE help to our family that week- I am so grateful!)  It was terribly hard for this mommy to miss Caroline's Meet-the-Teacher and her first two days of school.  I needed to get back to my family.

When I flew into DC, these two little faces were BEAMING to see me.  (they absolutely loved it that Daddy let them ride the Metro to pick me up at the airport, too!)

Though it was so sweet to be reunited, I was emotionally torn between two places. 

the staff of Lynchburg RUF, Marc and Taylor

 It probably didn't help that as soon as I landed and my feet hit the ground, I was thrown back into the world of campus ministry and kid's schedules.  

Students were literally spending the night at my house for an overnight ministry team retreat.  There wasn't any time to slow down and process all that had just happened.

 This week, RUF officially begun with our first large group meeting in the prayer chapel on Liberty's campus.  It went really well, with lots of new faces.  I'm really proud of how our student ministry team is really taking on the work of reaching out so far.

hanging out after large group

But it's been a tough start to the semester, for sure.  I'm already a little burned out.  (no pun intended)

I wasn't planning on having a dad in the ICU or a small house fire before our first event at our place, much less a hundred other little things that I haven't mentioned in this post.   

But after moving everything outside to our front yard, and showing the nasty burnt mac 'n' cheese to the students, the party actually ended up being better than it would've indoors anyway!  

Isn't that so often the case in life?  What seemed like such a terrible mistake at the time ended up yielding such good gifts.  What an unending process it is to trust God's crazy plans over own own.  

God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.

God chose what is low and despised in the world, 

even things that are not, 

to bring to nothing things that are, 

so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.  

-1 Corinthians 1:27-29