The Jars The Lord Keeps

I should be sleeping. I hate going to bed because then it is quiet and then I think. I put it off as long as possible. In the morning, I hate getting up and having to face another new day. This does not seem to be getting better for me.

Sunday is Mother's Day. Sunday is also seven months. Sigh.....

I am sad. Nothing feels normal. I am not getting used to things. The house feels so empty even when it is filled. I feel hallow and empty. There does not seem to be a depth to anything. It is hard to describe how I feel. It is like a dark cloud follows me where ever I go. The sun tries to peek through but it is impossible to penetrate that cloud to any significant degree.

I miss you John. Every tear contains these small sentences a thousand times a thousand. There are jars full of my tears in heaven. I love you John. I love you a lot. I love you forever. Now another jar is filled.

The Return of the pitiful and Wretched Child

( a continuation...part three)

Away the family went, excited to see what the next part of their adventure entailed. After a short drive the car pulled into another parking lot. Again there were many vehicles in the parking lot. The children were very pumped! Their bouncing up and down in the back seat shook the whole car. They scrambled from window to window. Seat belts were not used during this era so there were no restraints at all to contain the extreme enthusiasm of the children. When their father opened the door the kids rolled out onto the pavement!

This time, there was a multitude of children present. Squirming, squealing masses of bright easter dresses, lace socks and ringlets darted to and fro. Jumping, leaping and yet well scrubbed boys shouted exuberance. The girl looked out over the expansive lawn of the park that was before her. A long bright ribbon was stretched out from one end of the park to the other end. Just enough space was allowed to contain all the children behind the ribbon.

The girls mother herded her children into the crowd of children. "When the officials cut the ribbon, run as fast as you can. Keep hold of your little brother. Find an Easter Egg for each of you and return here as soon as you do. You are only allowed to keep one egg. Some of the eggs have prizes in them" the mother instructed.

A man shouted in a huge booming voice "Ready...Set...Go!"

A mass of knees, legs and elbows flew across the ribbon. The girl held her little brother close and tried to avoid being trampled. The two of them ran as fast as two year old legs could travel. She gave her brother credit. He was up for the challenge and when the girl cried "Run!" he seemed to pump his short legs faster.

All the time the girl was searching the area and hoping against hope to spot some eggs that the other children may have passed by in their greedy haste. She spotted a clump of bushes. "Crawl in there." she ordered her brother. "I don't think I can fit."

" The little guy scooted into the shrubbery. "Can you see anything?' She asked her voice a little shrill with tension. Branches shook. She heard a muffled reply " Mine!" he said. "Did you find anything ? How many?" She cried. The boy answered "Two...six..nine." The girl shook her head and laughed. Her little brother was very cute. She got down onto her stomach and tried to wiggle her way into the bushes. She got her head in far enough to see. There were two eggs. "Hand the eggs out to me" she commanded. Her brother replied "Mine!" The girl did some quick calculations in her head. She decided that the best way to get her brother to come out of the secure nest the shrubs gave him was to agree with him. This tactic pacified the boy and he crawled his way out clutching the treasure. The girl noticed that she had gotten her dress dirty from her contact with the ground and her brother had brought a large amount of grime with him from his trip into the bushes. She didn't think the spit wash was going to be of much help and hoped that her mother would realize this as well.

They made their way back to their parents. At this time the girl's father managed to remove one of the eggs from her brothers tightly clutched hand. The suspense was getting to the girl. "Can we open them now?" She asked. Her father nodded his head in affirmation. Quickly the children opened their eggs. Their shoulders sagged only a little as one by one they saw that their eggs were hallow. Their disappointment was short lived. While the eggs may have been hallow, they were still very tastey! The girl already knew that chocolate had near magical qualities.



















*Just a little commentary here regarding the authors ability to remember the color of the three quarter length jacket: "O.K. ! So the jacket is light blue and not navy! The gloves are not present because they got messy from the attempted try of gaining access to the shrubbery! The little lace socks and shiny shoes are cut out. Sigh!"

*The story is still not over! The fat lady (moi) has not sang. I have not wrote "the end" yet.

The Return Of The Pitiful And Wretched Child

(continuation...part two)

The family drove on. The children noticed that they were heading toward the mountains. Finally the car entered and parked in a very familiar parking lot. The girl knew this place well, however she had not come here in the middle of the night before. The parking lot was full and more cars were coming into the lot and parking. She was at the Garden of the Gods! The huge rock formations looked like dark giants in the night. The family got out of the car and followed the other people. They walked until they came to a stop at the base of one of the giant rock formations. The girl found herself standing in a large crowd of people.



"What is happening?" She asked her mom.

"In about twenty minutes the sun will come up over the rocks. That is why we are here. We are going to watch the sun rise. "

Twenty minutes seems like a long time to a young girl. It seems even longer for a toddler. It probably seemed even longer for the girls parents. Soon the restless crowd became still. It became very quiet. People only whispered.

"Look" the girl's father whispered.

The girl looked. As the sun came up, the edges of the towering formations looked like they were outlined in gold. As the sun rose higher yet, the shadowy giants came to life. They looked as if they were on fire. They glowed a bright orange. The awe that the crowd felt seemed almost tangible. The girl felt her heart turn over in her chest. A couple of tears ran down her cheeks. As the crowd let out one huge collective breath, they began to cheer and dance and clap! "He is risen!" they cried. "He is risen!"


The girl was amazed. The crowd was amazed. After that another amazing thing happened. Everyone got to see an Easter morning play. The characters in the play looked as thought they had stepped out of a bible story. A lot of what the girl saw did not make sense to the girl but she did understand a little bit. All the events of the morning became a treasure in her heart.

After the family returned to the car and after the boys were settled They were totally awake now, fidgety and had started acting up. This involved poking their sister and making faces at her! the father said "we are going to go and do something more this morning! It is fun. You will like it. I am not going to tell you! You will see when we get there!" The mother and the father laughed. They loved to torment their children using excitement as the method of torture. The father pulled out of the parking lot. The boys started poking their sister again.

* This story is not finished. The author will continue to add installments. You will know when it is finished. I will write The End when I have finished. Hahaha!

The Return Of The Pitiful And Wretched Child

"Wake up! Wake up little fishy. Come on open your eyes." The father said as he gently shook his daughter awake. Little fishy was his term of endearment for her. He loved how she enjoyed swimming at a very early age. Truly, she took to water just like a fish. He brushed her bangs out of her eyes. He pulled her into a sitting position. "We are going to do something special this morning." he whispered into her ear.

The girl worked hard to wake up and focus on the room around her. First she managed to pry one eye open, then the other followed as it obeyed its twin. Confused the daughter mumbled "It is still dark out daddy."

"Yes" her father replied. "Come on, feet on the floor. Your mom is waiting for you in the kitchen with a bowl of cereal."

The girl stumbled into the kitchen and slid into a chair. "What are we doing? she asked no one in particular. She noticed that both her brothers were up and having breakfast as well. Her youngest brother who was just about three years old was getting more of his cereal on his pajamas than in his mouth. Her older brother looked just as confused as she felt. His hair was sticking out at weird angles. "Why are we having breakfast in the middle of the night?" He asked.

"Just eat up." her mother replied. "Its a surprise. After you are done your breakfast I want you to go and wash up real good and I will come and help you with your hair. I have new cloths for all of you. We are all going to dress up real nice."

If the girl was not confused before, she was totally confused now. She wondered if her parents had took leave of their senses. Who got up in the middle of the night, ate breakfast and then put on new and fancy cloths? She did as she was told, clean underwear and all. Her mother came into her room. She was carrying the most beautiful dress the girl had ever seen. It was all white. It had layers of crinoline. It had a navy blue over jacket with three quarter length sleeves. Her mother laid out matching white socks. They had lace trim. She laid out a pair of white gloves that were trimmed with lace as well. She handed her daughter a new pair of shiny black dress shoes. The little girl took a deep breath. She was beside herself with joy! She looked and felt like a princess.

"Turn around" her mother ordered. Her mother checked her over. A Small frown appeared on her face. She took a Kleenex out of her pocket. She held it out to her daughter. "Spit!" she commanded. The daughter spit into the Kleenex. The mother wiped a small smudge that she imagined she saw on her daughters face. At least that is what the daughter thought. Her mother was always imagining smudges on her children's faces. You only hoped that your mouth was not dry. If you could not produce a goodly amount of spit her mom was quite happy to provide the service herself!

"What time is it?" her older brother asked. "It is still dark out." The girls brothers were dressed very fine. Their hair was slicked back with VO5. She was glad that she was a girl though. She was sure that her cloths were much, much finer than what they had to wear and she did not have to have her hair greased to her head!

"Never mind" her father replied as the family got into the car.

"Are we going to chase the moon?" the youngest brother asked.

He mom and dad chuckled. "No we are not going to chase the moon this time. Maybe we can go chase the moon tomorrow night." The whole family loved to chase the moon. Sometimes they would go out and have long drives trying to catch the moon. This always ended up in defeat but happily resulted in a trip to the Dairy Queen with chocolate covered cones for all.

The youngest brother was at this point near tears. He wanted to chase the moon. "Shhh!" consoled the mother. "This is going to be better than chasing the moon." The car purred through the quiet and darkened streets. There were very few cars on the roads. The street lights were still flashing amber. They drove on into the mystery of the night.

Stay tuned for further installations to this story of the Return of the Pitiful And Wretched Child

Homecoming

Wow! John is home. Treatments are completed. At this time there are no more chemical therapies or harvests or transplants looming in the future. Yes...there are still weekly blood works. Yes there are appointments and follow ups. But maybe our lives can take on some normalcy. For instance: things like our children and grandkids coming over for supper. Things like taking mini-vacations to visit loved ones and not having to cram things in between treatments. Things like being able to get up in the morning and do housework...sitting down for breakfast and reading the paper together then deciding what we want to do with the rest of our day. This list of things that are a part of normal daily living could go on and on.

Today we were thinking back to last March. It is unbelievable. The whole long road loomed ahead. Things at times seemed so hopeless. Death seemed to be knocking at our door. I wished John and I could jump in the car and just drive away from it all. Impossible, but I wished it anyway. I wanted God to wrap me in his arms. I wanted to be able to audibly hear Him tell me that things were going to be alright.

Late one night I was watching a program on miracle channel looking for the comfort that only God could give me. Somebody was singing a song. The song was about God being the lifter of our heads. I felt that he was promising that He would lift my head. Impossible! A few weeks later Becky was at the hospital. She had wrote a song for her father. She sang her song for him at the hospital. That song touched my heart. I felt that God was again speaking to me, that He wanted me to believe that He would lift my head. I started to have hope. I still cry when I here that song. My tears today are happy tears. God has kept His promise to me. He has lifted my head! He has walked with us every step of the way through this very long, challenging and painful year. I find it very appropriate that she has posted her song on her blog now just as we have come to the end of that very long process of stem cell transplant. Feel free to make your way over to her blog spot and listen. She has a beautiful voice. She wrote a beautiful song. Thank-you ever so much Becky.

Christmas Past And The Pitiful Wretch

The Pitiful Wretch

This story doesn't really qualify as a Christmas story but it has Christmas implications. I have been sitting and thinking about what I could write that would express what Christmas means to me. Sometimes it is hard to capture in words what I feel inside with any cohesiveness. This story answers the question of when I first realized that "God loves me!"

I was probably around seven years old. I had got myself into some kind of hot water with my parents. I have no memory of exactly what I had done to get sent to bed early but just for fun lets say it was calling the meatloaf dog food that earned me my exile. As a child I was a quiet drama queen. I say this because the drama was there yet the drama usually took place privately, alone in my room or a closet or any suitable place away from staring faces. I do not like witnesses to my dramas.

As I lay on my bed contemplating my exile I let all pathetic thoughts have free reign. They went something like this: Oh....sob...they don't love me...sob sob. At this point my eyes were flooding with tears. My breathing had taken on what I call the sup-sups. You have all heard this effect when a child cries hard. I was working my way through a box of tissues. Well...that is not entirely true because I was letting the snot mix freely with the tears because this seemed to better express my emotions. I told you I was a quiet drama queen. About at this point my thought process took a new and more pathetic twist. Oh...sob...sup...hiccup...I bet they would miss me if I was gone...if I got really sick and died...they would be sooo sorry!

I had noticed that it was raining outside. I like it when nature matches my mood. At this point I decided that maybe I could make myself sick. Yes...whine...sob. I had an outside door leading into my bedroom because the previous owner of the house was a doctor and my room was part of his offices. In order to preform the "lets get myself sick so everybody will be sorry activity" I needed to avoid being discovered at all costs. I quietly took my drama outside into the rain. Oh...nobody loves me...sob sob sob.

The rain was pouring down washing away all of the tears and all of the snot as well. I was having such a glorious drama all awash in rain and tears and pity. My hair was plastered to my head and my nightdress was soaked. It was at this point that I believe I heard the voice of Jesus.Yes... you read that correctly. I still believe this today. This was not an audible voice but a like a whisper that reverberated through each cell in my body. This was a gentle voice...full of humor yet serious at the same time. The voice simply said "But I love you."

This sums up what Christmas means to me! "But I love you." God sent his son to earth because of my wretchedness . "But I love you." He didn't wait until I had my act together. As a matter of fact, I think that he could hardly wait to send his son to earth. There was such a celebration in the heavens. There were choirs of angels. There was a bright star bathing the earth with glory. There were shouts of proclamation.

In my Christmas past I was a pitiful wretch of a child. Sometimes I am still a pitiful wretch of a child and I still like my dramas private. God still quiets my emotions and He holds my head up when I am sad. To me Christmas is a time to celebrate. I celebrate what God told me in the past...that he love me and what he proclaims in the present...that he still loves me...that is why he came so many years ago.

As a footnote to the above story...I did not become ill and die. I did not even get a bit of the sniffles. I did go back into the house and change into some dry pj's. I no longer let my nose run down my face. I use copious amounts of tissues instead.

Christmas Past

My dad is on the far left. My mom is on the far right. Kent is in the bottom corner.
I am learning to knit.