BACK TO DORDT

I thought by the third year it would be easier. Yeah, right. I have come to understand that saying goodbye to my son will never be easy or without emotion, but I think he and I are both pretty grateful that I am here today to shed those college-return day tears!!! We are so proud of him and are so happy that he loves his college, is getting a terrific education, and has such awesome college friends.

Off to Dordt to move in with 5 of his best friends.......

SUMMER IS WINDING DOWN

 Always sad to see the last days of August arrive....



The three of us with Grama Ekstrom in Kenmare, ND



Me with my nieces Allison and Rachel. They are precious, fun and interesting young women who are both
doing an amazing job as stay-at-home moms (the hardest job on earth!).
 I loved hanging out with them in Kenmare!!



My legs ache 24/7 from chemo, but they were extra sore after being on them for 6 straight hours
the day of the party.



Richie and I decided after 25 years to paint out our white shutters on the cottage yellow. We're going to add window boxes next year and plant them with yellow and white flowers.




Our Monday night home group/Bible study group: Bob, Lee, James, Penny, and us. We were blessed beyond measure to meet with these dear friends and study divine healing all summer. It was incredible having these couples believe as we do and live out their faith in healing for others!! We are SO going to miss them, but we are hoping to meet in Minneapolis in October for a healing conference.




Sam and his best friend James on the dock. Both of the guys worked out of state all summer,
but had 5 days together last week.




Me with our old youth group from church. Richie and I loved being the youth leaders for 4 years. All of "our kids" are now in college, but we were able to rally 6 of the 10 for a campfire and s'mores.



We LOVE these kids!!!  
From left, James, Sam, Miranda, Rachel, Daniel, Jonathan

My hubbie got a nice bass one day last week!! No, we did not release him. We ATE him!!
Nothin' like fresh bass!

Our transformer blew 3 days ago. I have the utmost respect for the power company guys!!



Sam leaves for college in 6 days. Never a fun day for this Mom. But he is moving into an apartment-like dorm with his 5 best friends this fall, so he is excited about that. I love fall, but always have a hard time making the transition. It always means loss in some way (green leaves, warm lake water, shorts and tank tops, your son moving away, having my husband going back to work...) but once it is here, I always embrace the crisp air, donning sweatshirts again, and playing in leaf piles. So....onward we go into autumn.

TWO YEARS

I was rocking in a chair by the lakeshore last week. Dick walked down from the cottage, put his arms around me and said with tears rolling down his cheeks, “I’m so grateful you are here.” I asked him what brought on the emotion. He had been looking at our lake journal….something he has rarely done….and he saw the entry I made two days after my diagnosis. Later in the day I went back to look at it. I wrote:

It is August 14. I have lung cancer. We are going home. If I never return………Dick and Sam, know that I have treasured every second of my time with you here at our beloved lake and cabin. Love it and enjoy it for me……for always…...til we meet again.

It was a Thursday the twelfth. I never realized that until now. Sam remembered. It was always a Friday the thirteenth in my mind, but it’s not surprising I didn’t know the day. It was the twelfth of August when the words YOU HAVE CANCER found their way from a doctor’s lips to my fearful ears. It was the day that pain enveloped my husband, my son and me. A pain so deep we could not feel the bottom of it. It was the day that terror branded our hearts. Time became suspended in a haze of fear. Looking back, two years out, I can see how much rejoicing the devil did that day. He thought he had stolen the life of our close trio. For a while, he had.

And then I found a way to breathe in that smoky haze of fear. I found a way to stem the tide of tears for ten minutes at a time, then thirty minutes at a time. I found something deep inside of myself I never knew existed before. Was it survival instinct at its most base level? I don’t know. It was a kind of determination to live that allows you to step into the darkness in order to step from the darkness. I found a way to plant my desperation in the soil of grace. I knew it was only grace that would hold me as I pressed into the pain, only grace that would allow glimmers of light through the expanse of fear.

We slowly learned the truths we needed to walk this new path. Truths we had never heard before….astounding truths found in God’s Word, promises in Scripture that healing is God’s will. We learned about the conditions of healing, we prayed, we asked, we made the choice to believe with unwavering faith that God is true to His Word, and that healing will be manifested in my life. The three of us would ignore symptoms of cancer and look only to God’s promises.

And then, faith. Faith came to stay. Faith that this was not the beginning of the end of my life and our family. Faith in total healing. Faith that in the face of a powerful, sovereign Creator God and Savior, incurable cancer can wither and die.

It was the twelfth of August when emotional devastation changed me in ways I have yet to make my own. Pain that deep cannot help but shape you into someone new. That this new someone can write this today is a testimony of God’s faithfulness. God alone gets the glory for the statistical improbability that I am alive this year on this anniversary day.

Alive to be rocking in a chair with my sweet husband’s strong, loving arms wrapped around me. Alive to be a mom to my precious son. Alive to be a daughter, sister, friend and auntie. Alive to share the truths we have learned with others seeking information about divine healing.

I am alive.

The other day, I was sitting on the deck in the same chair I sat in that day two years ago when I had to look into the grief-stricken eyes of my son and tell him I could die. Now, as I sat in that chair, we were texting each other about something perfectly stupid and mundane, laughing together via phone screens. The difference between the two days is vast. One, a victory for the devil. One, a day full of faith that Sam will have his mom around to cheer him and support him as he hitches his wagon to a few stars.

Cancer will not win. Satan came to steal, kill and destroy (John 10:10), but God came to give abundant life to those of us who believe in His atoning work on the cross, where He died for our sicknesses and diseases as well as our sins (Isaiah 53:4, 5). The three of us continue to trust Almighty God for total healing of my cancer.

It was Thursday, August the 12th, 2010 when my world tilted. Today is Sunday the 12th of August, 2012. God has re-set that world on a new trajectory. A new course, full of unexpected blessing and unspeakable gratitude.

Life is good.

God is great.

And faith, well, it’s everything.

MISTAKEN IDENTITY

We just returned from Grama Ekstrom’s birthday party in ND. A great milestone. More on that in the next blog. But I can’t not post about 20 of the funniest minutes of my life----and Sam’s. The words may lack…..I think you had to be there.

We were visiting Grama Mabel in her nursing home room when some distant family friends of Mabel (late 60’s, I will call them Carol and Bob) came to visit. They hadn’t seen Dick in many years. We all stood up. Nodding to Sam, Dick said, “This is my son Sam,” and I reached out my hand and said, “And I am his wife Mary.”

The conversation continued between the 4 of them, mostly about “old times.” About 5 minutes later I hear Carol say to Mabel, “It’s good to see Dick again and meet his son and daughter-in-law.” (Dick was chatting with Bob and heard none of that). They continued to talk.

Her words did not really register in my brain for about 15 seconds, but when they did, I glanced to Sam, wondering if he heard the same thing I did. I MUST have heard it wrong, I thought. Sam’s eyes were wide and his lips were pursed, holding in laughter. He had heard it. I don’t really know why we didn’t correct her at that point, but I didn’t want to embarrass her with her mistake in judgment, and I knew none of us would probably ever see them again, so it came and went.

But as I kept glancing at Sam out of the periphery of my vision, seeing him holding in laughter and knowing my own body was nearly shaking with hysteria, I knew the two of us were going to lose it. Our silent hilarity was now palpable and so about 5 minutes later I said, “I’m going to show Sam around the nursing home.” We left, walked 20 yards into an empty lounge and let loose. We laughed until we could hardly catch our breath. Sam said, “Either that was a huge insult to Dad or a huge compliment to you.” “Or,” I added, “she thinks you are 45 years old.”

We composed ourselves and went back…..unknowing there was more amusement to come.

Bob and Carol asked Sam about himself and Sam made it clear that he was a college junior, and a bit about his summer job. Nowhere in that description of his life was mention of a wife. I am thinking, OK, now she knows she made a big mistake. She knows this is just a young adult. Surely now she realizes her mistake. Besides, do I look like the kind of woman that would marry a man more than 30 years my junior? DO I??

Carol took out her cell phone to show all of us a picture of her great grandchild. When she walked over to Sam and me to show us the picture, she looked at us and said, “So, do you two have kids?”

That did it. Our jaws dropped and we lost it. (My husband was still chatting with Bob and caught none of this). I quickly said (trying to save face for her, thinking she would assume I never heard the first remark about daughter-in-law), “Dick and I just have one child, just Sam here.”

The look in her eyes was pure confusion. “You’re not together?”

“Sam is our son,” I said, again trying to act like I never realized her earlier mistake.

“Well, you know, I thought you were Sam’s wife. Some men marry older women. Our son married a woman 3 years older than him.” I thought I was going to wet my pants.

It was such a zany, bizarre funny moment. WHAT? She thought we might be about 3 years apart in age? Is this woman for real? In retrospect, my introduction of “and I am his wife” must have cemented in her mind that I belonged with Sam. I never dreamt I should have qualified that with, “and I am DICK’S wife.”

Before they left, she turned to Sam and said, “Well, are YOU married?” (He had just told them he was a college junior, living at Dordt. Does this sound like the description of a married man?). Once again, stifled laughter from the two of us. “NO,” my son says with emphasis, “I am single.”



We are so clearly mother and son.....how could ANYONE assume we were married? (Serving at Grama Ekstrom's birthday party with my niece and nephew Allison and Daniel Swanson, who ARE married!!)



Re-telling the whole story to Dick in the car, it got even funnier as the reality of her thought process sunk in.

What a kid I have. He was a class act. To his credit, having just been mistaken for his mother’s husband, then asked if he had any children by his mother, then assumed to be only a few years in age apart from that mother, he had the maturity to find only pure hilarity in it all. Whether or not he had an, “Oh, GROSS!” ready to shout at Carol, he didn’t express it.

There are some moments in life that are indelible. This is one that will keep Sam and me laughing for years to come.

As for my explanation of the entire exchange, I am just choosing to assume that I still look 21.

REGRETS OF THINGS UNDONE

There is a devotional I read year after year. Every year, on July 30, I come to this poem which always makes me stop and evaluate my life, my acts of kindness (or lack thereof). It stays in my mind for days afterward, and though I am not a huge fan of poetry, these very old lines from Adelaide Proctor have punch. I share them with you:

It isn’t the thing you do

It’s the thing you leave undone

That gives you the bitter heartache at the setting of the sun

The tender word unspoken

The letter you did not write

The flower you might have sent are your haunting ghosts at night

The stone you might have lifted

Out of your brother’s way

The bit of heartfelt counsel you were hurried too much to say

The loving touch of the hand

The gentle and winsome tone

That you had no time or thought for with troubles enough of your own

Life is all too short

And sorrow is all too great

To allow our slow compassion that tarries until too late

It’s not the thing you do

It’s the thing you leave undone

That gives you the bitter heartache at the setting of the sun

                               Adelaide Proctor

JULY IS OVER

I cannot believe that August is looming overhead. Where has the summer gone? Next week we head out to Kenmare, ND for Grama Ekstrom's 100th birthday, which should be a sweet celebration. Last week my mom and dad came for mom's birthday. My son and 2 nieces and 2 of their friends came over for the afternoon. We got to meet new baby Oskar and enjoy 2-year-old Hendy. I can't believe I did not take a picture of the whole group of us. My bad.



Mom and Dad playing UpWords



Nanny had the magic touch with Oskar. He just stared at her and cooed.



Sam reading to Hendy



We got to resurrect the old Donald Duck fishing rod and Snoopy life jacket for Hendy



Love that Hendrik loves to fish!!




Uncle Dick and cousin Sam made sure he caught 5 sunnies!!





Great auntie Mary with the babe



Oskar captured his Nanny's heart!! What a gift to have great-grandchildren!



This is my hard-working hubbie after a morning of hauling lumber in the woods



No, those will NOT go in the wash. They will be thrown away at the end of the summer!!!



My finished deck. We now have 2 rocking chairs down there. Maybe I should become
a master carpenter in retirement...

I still deal with chronic pain in my legs from the chemo. I wish Excedrin made a "leg pain formula" but nothing seems to help. Now I know what Dick has endured for 20 years. It is not fun to deal with on a 24/7 basis, but it will just be another thing God will get glory for when healing is manifested. The promises in Scripture come more alive every week as we both know our faith is unwavering in our total healing. God is faithful!

POWER OUTAGE

We are now going on 66 hours without electricity. We have two or three power outages every year, and almost like some cosmic tradition, they usually happen in sweltering heat. We were in the thick of the straight line winds that hit Itasca County on Monday night, leveling majestic towering pine trees like they were year-old saplings. We have many more trees down, and all of Dick’s hard work the past 3 weeks cleaning up from the carnage of the April blizzard has been in vain. We have another war zone. The county-wide demand for linemen to repair snapped power lines is vast, and we are in the boonies and last on the priority list. Based on the information we have, we are expecting several more days without power.

Power outages are really the only stressor we have at the lake. Well, okay, major appliances breaking down and every-10-year army worm infestations qualify too. But none of them SHOULD be stressors, you know? I think we have strayed too far into creature comforts.

Three years ago, after 22 summers of losing our refrigerated food, and living in darkness and oblivion (no media), we bought a generator. It was the best $400 we have ever spent. Ours stopped working about 10 hours into this outage, necessitating a trip to town to have a blessedly-available motor shop work on it. Capacitor replaced (yes, Back to the Future fans, there is such a thing as a capacitor), we have it up and running now and appreciate our 4-plug options. One goes to the refrigerator. The other three are low wattage mix-and-match. The past 3 days of the outage, with the heat index in the cottage feeling like about 137 degrees, we have chosen 2 fans and a lamp. At news time, we exchange light for the TV. Last night I exchanged a fan to charge this laptop. But most of the time, air, food, and light are the ongoing staples we choose.

The lake is lukewarm this year, so bathing in it is no big deal. Thank the Lord for biodegradable soap and a lake to clean up in. We’re using a little camp stove, flushing the toilet with buckets of lake water, and fetching gas and drinking water from the little store 11 miles to the south. It is all our temporary normal.

At dinner last night, Dick and I talked about how arrogant it really sounds to be upset by this sans-power life. We know that 50% of the world’s population lives in abject poverty on less than $2 per day. What we have in a power outage with a 4-plug generator would be incomprehensible to them…....considered high end luxury. We have a clean lake, a safe home with windows and door and wood rather than dirt floors. We have refrigerated food. Mattresses to sleep on. Fans. FANS! An indoor toilet. I mean, we have SO much more without the convenience of electricity than those 3 billion people have ever had that I feel shame in any complaining.

What would my great-great-great grandmother Catherine Bolger think of grousing over the lack of power? She who fled Ireland during the potato famine to create a new, hard, but good life in the Mississippi River bluffs of Harper’s Ferry, Iowa. With no power tools. No appliances. No furnace. No running water. No plumbing. No electricity. I wonder if all of our ancestors would be appalled at America’s collective expectation of living lives of ease and convenience.

I have to admit to letting myself feel stress and frustration those first 12 hours after an outage. Your life sort of feels turned on edge for a while as you adjust to living differently. But then you adapt. Even today, on day 3, it is “just the way it is” and life flows on.

What helps is reminding myself that I live a privileged life with all too many things that make my life convenient. And sensing God is teaching me some sweet humility and pioneer spirit on the gusts of those straight line winds.