We’ve been prepared.

Posted on October 4, 2009 by Margaret

Tonight, as Linnea and I walked around the block with the dog, we decided to look for ways God had prepared our family for the crisis we’re now experiencing. Listed below are our seven children, each one brought close to their ailing father by a sudden change of circumstances only God could have orchestrated.

Nelson: He felt strongly God wanted him to sell his Nashville landscaping business last June. When the season was at its peak, he asked the Lord to bring a buyer. A friend of a friend who already had a landscaping business mentioned he’d like to expand. Word got back to Nelson and within a week they’d struck a deal. He wasn’t sure what God wanted him to do next when the news of pancreatic cancer came, and Nelson drove home. Two days ago he said, “Please know the two of you will never be alone throughout this whole ordeal. I’m here, and that’s that.”

Lars: He’s been based in California since first becoming a student at Azusa Pacific University in 1994, 15 years ago. Recently, his boss at Matrix offered him a job transfer from San Diego to Schaumburg, IL. He was weighing the decision when the news of his father’s cancer arrived. He took the new position, and within 72 hours was moving to Illinois, 90 miles from us instead of 2000 miles.

Linnea: Having taught high school English in Ocala, FL, since she and Adam married six years ago, her job was tenured and secure. After taking a year’s leave of absence when Skylar was born last year, she had to return to teaching this fall or lose tenure. Eventually she signed the contract to begin in August. In the weeks between signing and starting, she learned she was pregnant with baby #2 and let her job go. When the cancer news arrived, she was free to come to Michigan to stay indefinitely.

Klaus: He was based in Nashville, working in the volatile music business. When his assignment came to a sudden end in early September, he wasn’t sure what was next. He found a job in sales, his expertise, and is working in Chicago, two hours from us rather than eight hours away in Tennessee.

Hans: He and his British wife Katy live with baby Nicholas in England. Although he has been aching to come home to be near his dad, he’s been blocked by passport and visa complications. This story is too spectacular to squeeze into one paragraph so will be the subject of tomorrow’s blog.

Louisa: She lived through two very difficult years after high school, then chose to spend six months out of the country with Youth With A Mission. She returned a changed girl, devoted to the Lord and strengthened to bear what was about to rock her world, a father with terminal cancer.

Birgitta: She visited Nashville with the intent of pursuing her love of singing in the music capital of our nation. Her desire was to rent an apartment, take a job and sing/write songs in her off hours. But Louisa persuaded her to stay in Chicago and be her roommate. In the end, the girls rented an apartment together in Wicker Park in one of their Uncle Bervin’s buildings, got jobs within walking distance, and are located one hour from our Michigan home.

As Linnea and I walked tonight, we ran out of block before we ran out of blessings. Only God could have plucked all seven of our children from jobs and homes scattered far and wide and brought them together exactly ahead of our cancer news. But here we are, weathering the storm, all in one place, all at the same time.

“God himself has prepared us for this.” (2 Corinthians 5:5a)

Singing in the bedroom

Posted on October 1, 2009 by Margaret

As Nate was getting dressed this morning, I was across the room organizing his closet, bringing the most comfy clothes to the middle and sliding the suits to the end. All of a sudden he began to sing, very softly and to himself. I stopped what I was doing and listened.

Nate is tone deaf and hasn’t sung in church for years, after one condemning experience. He was trying to sing on-key (without success) when the lady in front of him turned all the way around to look directly at him and make sure he saw her disapproval. He stopped mid-chorus and hasn’t sung in church since.

He knows the words to most of the songs in the hymn book (along with the words to all of the Elvis Presley tunes). He’s also aware of his tendency to sing off-key and knows this makes on-key singing difficult for those around him. But I’ve tried to convince him our worship singing arrives in heaven as melodious music, no matter what the ability of the songster. (I’m not sure about the Elvis songs.) Although we’ve all encouraged Nate to sing, nothing can convince him.

TODAY, however, he was singing. The tune was nothing I recognized, and maybe it was just miscellaneous notes strung together. But as I listened, it loosely resembled a chorus we sang often at Moody Church while I was growing up:

“Trusting as the moments fly,

Trusting as the days go by,

Trusting him whate’er befalls,

Trusting Jesus, that is all.”

Maybe our new slow-release pain pills were doing a fabulous job. I prefer to think it was the Lord reaching down with yet another gift. Against all logic, he blessed Nate with joy at his core, deep in his heart, despite the horrendous circumstances of his deteriorating physical life.

I got a gift this morning, too. Having awoken with tears trickling out even before I opened my eyes, I was lifted from that low place to a place of well-being, right at the start of another difficult day.

“The Lord is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in him.” (Nahum 1:7)

Chuckling

Posted on September 29, 2009 by Margaret

This morning arrived with wild wind and spit-like rain. It was still dark as we loaded the van and climbed in with our coffees, headed for Nate’s first radiation treatment. Normally I would have been behind the wheel for the 108 mile trip, but Nelson wanted to share this experience with us and kindly took my place.

As we sped along, Nate riding shotgun and me in back, I observed father and son. They conversed steadily and even chuckled together, a sound that washed over me like a balm. There hasn’t been too much levity at our house recently.

Suddenly Nelson braked and pulled sharply onto the left shoulder. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Look behind us,” he said.

Pulling up close was a police car, bubble gum lights flashing. My heart sank, because I’d just told Nelson they’d raised the speed limit, which proved inaccurate for this section of highway. I wished I’d been driving and could have taken the ticket, despite his record being clean and mine being, uh, dirty.

After scowling and quizzing Nelson about his speed, the officer went to his car, eventually returning with license and ticket. “You have a total disregard for everything,” he said. “You’ve got to slow down. I’m giving you a warning.” And he was gone.

As we merged back onto the expressway, we were all chuckling about Nelson’s supposed “disregard” for not just traffic rules but for absolutely “everything”. And laughter turned to amazement when we talked about the gift of a warning instead of the penalty of a ticket. All of us saw it as one more touch of kindness from the Lord. “Whatever is good… comes down to us from God our Father.” (James 1:17a)

We arrived on time for radiation treatment #1, which was a breeze for Nate. No claustrophobic tube to slide into and no pain in the treatment process. Friendly techs announced, “Now we’re going to Grant Park,” as pictures of Chicago’s beautiful lake front came into view during his “zapping”.

He returned to the lobby saying, “So far, so good.”

Tomorrow we repeat the process. Maybe then he’ll get to “go” to Millennium Park or the Chicago River as the radiation does its work. In the next few days, doctors said, his skin will redden at the three radiation sites and then feel sunburned, possibly blistering after that. “But with our magic creams,” they assured us, “we’ll make it easy.” We trust them and hope they’re telling the full truth.

Driving home while eating Subway sandwiches, we watched for speed limit signs. Nate was tired but talkative, and as we rounded the bottom of the lake headed for home, all three of us agreed it had been a very good day.

“I will turn their mourning into joy, and will comfort them, and make them rejoice from their sorrow.” (Jeremiah 31:13)