ONLY FIRST NAMES

I was putting this picture of my folks in a new frame and thought, gee, wouldn't it be nice if my high school and college friends who knew my parents could see this picture of them now. And so I thought to myself, I'll just post this picture of Ed and Pat.

And as soon as my brain said their names, I started smiling because a long forgotten memory surfaced and it tickled me. Amongst my friends, we ALWAYS called our parents by their first names! And I don't know why or how it started or exactly when, but at least all through high school it was always:

     Chet and Helen said I had to be home by midnight.

     I had another argument with Bob and Betty before I left home.

     Arvilla has to call Pat to talk about our trip before they'll let us go.

     Morris has to fix something on my car.

     Did Alta really say that?

     Anna and Joe would be so proud of you!

     Rollie and Bernice can't come to the game.

     Ed thinks my skirt is too short.

And on and on....

We NEVER used the mom and dad monikers. Why?

And now, I am wondering, was it a Jamestown thing? A North Dakota thing? Was it just OUR class? Was it just "our group" within our class? I have no idea! Or is this something that all teens do? I need to ask my son if he and his friends did this. 

What a funny memory....

Well, I know I have a couple of classmates who peek at my blog once in while, and they knew my folks and so, for them......

Here are Ed and Pat, still lookin' great for 88 and 92!!

TO HONOR KEN

When I turned the corner into her hallway to hug her, my sweet friend was sitting at the doorway to the bathroom, crying, running her fingers through the hair of her precious husband. His well-loved body lay on the bathroom floor where a series of brain seizures took his life. 

He wasn't supposed to die yesterday. He went for his second-to-the-last radiation treatment (he was having no side effects) for his brain tumor, much of which was removed in February. He was laughing over lunch with another one of our friends, went out in the sunny late afternoon to pick up sticks in the back yard. It was a good day. It was not a day to die. 

He and Earleen had too much life ahead. Retirement, grandbabies, that dream cruise to Alaska. It was all supposed to be. 

The last chapter of their love story has been written, but the book is still open and on the coffee table. They were so close, so in love, it was palpable to those of us who interacted with them. Death may end a life, but it never ends a relationship. Love like that never dies.

All of us who are friends, all who are family, know that Kenny's earthly body only held the spirit that is now in heaven, more alive than he ever was here.....and he was larger-than-life here. He knew Jesus as His savior, and eternal life was his promise. And because Earleen shares his salvation through Christ's atoning work on the cross, she does not "grieve without hope," as the Bible says. She will know eternity with her husband. I can't think of anything more sorrowful than to have a spouse die and know that he/she was not saved, and is headed to hell.

When we got home last evening, not hungry for the dinner we had cooking, Dick and I sat on the love-seat together, a little closer than usual. Through tears I said to him, "You know, someday, that is going to be us.....that scene.....one of us saying goodbye to the other. It might be next week or in 5 years or 30 years. But we just saw our future. I can only think of one way to honor Kenny, and that is for us to really start living like this is our last day on earth together. I don't want to take a day for granted."

Like the lyrics of Jason Gray's popular new song say, we promised each other that we would "love like we are on borrowed time."

Kenny, we miss you. We love you. When we get to heaven someday, we will find you. You'll be there helping people, encouraging people, making them laugh, and serving your Lord with all that is in you. 


Good To Be Alive

Hold on
If the life that we've been given
Is made beautiful in the living
And the joy that we get brings joy to the heart of the Giver
Then right here, right now
This is the song I'm singing out

I wanna live like there's no tomorrow
Love like I'm on borrowed time
It's good to be alive

I won't take it for granted
I won't waste another second
All I want is to give You
A life well lived, to say "thank You"

I wanna live like there's no tomorrow
Love like I'm on borrowed time
It's good to be, it's good to be alive

Jason Gray

TO GOD BE THE GLORY

On February 8th, I wrote on my blog:

We praise God for a miracle healing for our friend Darrell up in Minnesota. Almost 5 years of being cancer-free from stage 4 colon cancer, they found a another tumor in the liver. We, and hundreds of others prayed for him, and especially that God would take that tumor out even before surgery. Well, they should have re-scanned him before his 6 hour surgery, because they COULD. NOT. FIND. THE. TUMOR.!! Our great Jehovah-Rapha, Healer God, dissolved the tumor!! No cancer! Sadly, he has to go through a long recovery from the surgery, but his testimony is awesome. Doubters that God still divinely heals today? Take note.

The following were Sandy's (Darrell's wife) words on his caringbridge site after the Jan. 26th surgery:

We continue to believe that God took care of a tumor in Darrell's liver. We do not believe the doctors made a mistake in diagnosis and did an unnecesasary surgery. The God of the Bible is a God of miracles. He did miracles then. He does miracles now. He is a God who heals. We believe it, claim it, and proclaim it. What Satan intended for evil.......I can't wait to see the impact of this whole situation on the Kingdom!

And then, On February 10th, they got word that Darrell's CEA levels had increased. Sandy wrote:

We covet your ongoing prayers for Darrell's recovery.  Additionally, we are concerned about the CEA level, which measures the cancer cell activity.  This has increased, but we don't know why.  We continue to stand on the belief that God is our Healer, and ask that you would claim God's promises to heal Darrell (and each of us) from infirmities/diseases.

You can imagine the jolt that was. The miracle was theirs, and yet there were more cancer cells somewhere? Clearly, Satan was not giving up on his attempts to derail my friend's life.

But he didn't get very far. No weapon formed against those who believe can prosper! The call came from Sandy last night. Another CEA level was taken yesterday. NO CANCER CELLS! It was perfectly normal! And while the doctor's office is stammering with ways to explain this.....and cannot......Darrell was able to loudly proclaim that His God is a divine Healer today. NO CANCER. PRAISE GOD!!

The thrill of his healing is beyond words for me. To see the answer to our (so many people) prayers claiming the healing that God has promised us by the stripes of Jesus......it is so amazing. 

Am I jealous? Of his healing? Not for one millisecond. I am over the moon thrilled. But of his new testimony, being able to go and talk about God as Healer to people who need to hear that truth? Oh, man am I jealous!! I talk to people about faith healing all the time, but Darrell now has scientific proof of his healing. Mine can't be seen yet on a scan. So, I am green with envy that he gets the amazing blessing and privilege of testifying to God's miraculous powers to heal people, backed up with "proof." 

To God be the glory!!!!!

STREP

So much for self-diagnosis.

When you are raised a "doc's kid," you grow up with the mentality of not "bothering" a doctor unless you are really sick. Bear in mind that those were the days when patients had the luxury of calling their physician at home at any time of the day or night and could even ask him/her to make a house call. When your dad has endless dinners and evenings and weekends interrupted, you learn "not to bother" other physicians unless you are in dire straits.

I have not been in dire straits.

Every single symptom listed on the Mayo clinic website for influenza was my own. Every single one. I could have created the list. It was a slam dunk for self-diagnosis.

But even if it quacks like a duck and waddles like a duck, it can still be a squirrel.

I have a nasty case of strep.

Strep without a flaming sore throat? Strep with a dry hacking cough? Strep with sharp sinus headaches?

Apparently, yes.

I have never had strep before. Thought it was a really bad throat infection. Little did I know that it can affect kidneys and heart. Hmmm.

No wonder I have not been able to get on top of this "flu" bug. After 10 days you would think that you could walk downstairs and back again without feeling short of breath and breaking out in a sweat. No wonder every day I continue to feel like crap. No wonder, indeed.

I am allergic to penicillin, the drug-of-choice for strep. My doc wrote a script for a cousin of that drug which works with most people allergic to the penicillin. I was still leery as she talked about this, as I have never known WHY I am allergic to the drug, but have known since I was a pre-schooler that I am. I was just a bit concerned that if I indeed had gone into anaphylactic shock as a toddler due to penicillin, I was not eager to give even the "cousin" a try.

My doc wanted to know that my husband was going to be home when I take the first dose. 

Oh, THAT reassured me!

And so I went home and did what any daughter would do. Call her 88-year-old dad and ask him if he remembers why I am allergic to penicillin. God bless his memory. He said with authority that anaphylaxis was NOT the reaction to the drug that I had all those years ago. He believes it was a bad rash.

So, armed with relief from the man whose dedicated professional life influenced the way I seek (or more aptly, DO NOT seek) medical care, I started up my 10-day course of strep-killer.

Have I learned a big lesson here? 

Maybe, maybe not.

I think I might be more inclined to seek a medical opinion if something lasts as long as this has, but you know, again, when it quacks like a duck, and waddles like a duck and looks like a duck, I think I will always have a lifelong propensity to self-diagnose duck.

FLU

You get cancer, and all you want to do is live.

You get 9 days worth of influenza, and all you want to do is die.

Life's funny like that.


All prayers for cessation of flu symptoms are accepted.

GRAMMAR POLICE NEEDED

This is my 15 minutes per day out of bed. That's all it takes to exhaust me. Was blindsided with influenza last Thursday....the day I was supposed to leave for Fargo, and I have been down ever since. It is ugly stuff. I pretty much just lay there and want to die. I think if the fever would go down a couple degrees, I would feel human. Nevertheless, I make myself get up for a few minutes each day and do something. Shower or check email. Tonight it is a short blog. Born from the Final Four games last night.

My body aches too much to read, watch movies or do crosswords. But Dick had the games on last night and I watched with him from my germ-infested sofa. My interest took a nose-dive 2 weeks ago when my bracket was macerated on day 2 when Wichita took out Gonzaga, who I thought would take it all. Nonetheless, now I wanted the Shockers to beat Louisville. So I watched.

And it just made me frustrated. If only the grammar police had been out in force in the broadcast booths. It just made my headache even worse. I mean, really, people, I know the networks want "big names" and "big personalities," but wouldn't you think they would make sure the big names passed 4th-grade language arts?

"Him and Trey Burke are the two best......."

"They just have to play good next half. Not perfect. But they have to play very good."

"Those two starters may be as good as you and I."

And on and on it goes. 

Why did so many broadcasters and color commentators miss these basics in elementary school?

Him and Trey..... SERIOUSLY?

In a profession where the spoken word is the product, can't they do better than this? 

I just kept correcting every mistake softly to the TV. Maybe I should write to the networks. Even the consummate professional Jim Nantz blows it occasionally.

This is what our kids are hearing on TV sporting events. It's not just basketball, but football and baseball too. To be fair, they also hear bad grammar on sitcoms, cartoons and the playground. Maybe at home.

And so here is my suggestion for all you parents out there whose young sports lovers are going to be tuning in tomorrow night for the championship game. Give them a piece of paper and pen. Have them write down every occurrence of bad grammar they hear and then correct it. Tell them you will give them a quarter for every one they find. Watch their eyes light up when they see the dollar bills they have earned!

And, if they are NOT detecting any, perhaps it is time to supplement their teacher's teachings and do a little home schooling on the side. Maybe this generation can buck the trend one child at a time.

OK, back to my sofa to nurse my fevered body, my pained head, runny nose, dry cough and aching limbs. My 13 minutes are up.

NEW BOOK

The "second edition" of my book on healing is done! It is amazing how much more I learned from Scripture and Bible-based healing books in the year since I printed the first ones! I also had my amazing friend Lee read through it and give me some great editing suggestions. I like the final product! You may ask why I am writing this book about faith healing BEFORE I have "physical proof" of my own healing. I do so as a statement of faith in what I know God has done in my body. The scans don't show it yet, but they will.

We had a great family Easter weekend. How we love the magic of ordinary days when we are together. I think the Sunday morning fish lips are born from sleep-deprivation (we had to get up at 6:20 to get to our sunrise service by 7)!!

I am heading to Fargo to spend more days helping Mom and Dad pack up for their move. A blog on that is to come, but right now, I don't think I have English words that speak to the emotion of it all.