God Still Speaks, part three

Another week passed. I was in the usual rush for work but decided to race one last time upstairs to grab a CD to listen to in the car. (Enter rant) Yes, I still listen to CDs, regularly, although I have recently agreed at least to stop buying them. What can I say, I guess I like buying tangible objects? Needless to say, I just can't seem to get my music together. Part of me wants needs to put all of my CDs, meaning every single one, on iTunes. But who has the time or the hard drive for that? Being the perfectionist that I am, I can't just pick some of my favorite songs, so then I question why should I even start if I can't do it right? Then there is also the complication with having CD players in my car and on my desk at work. They still play music perfectly yet I feel commercial pressure to replace them because my life will be "easier" if I do. The insanity!  But this is all beside the point. (Exit rant)

I didn't have time to think about it and Storyhill (aka Chris & Johnny...anyone? I'd be very surprised if anyone reading this has heard of them before) practically jumped into my hands. The CD I have is titled "This Side of Lost," it is a very random CD that I aquired after hearing them in a coffee shop about 14 years ago now while I was in college. After all.these.years. I still enjoy listening to this album. Maybe I haven't tired of it because I don't listen to it very often? It seems to make it off the shelf at least once a year as I have mentally categorized it as one of my favorite "fall" albums.  I ran back downstairs and was off to work.

I listened to it all the way to work and it continued to play again when I got in the car to go get some lunch. I wasn't paying too much attention to the music but then suddenly heard:

"You've been our anchor
You've been our beacon in the night
Through struggle and anger
You've shown a peaceful way to fight
Around your table
You brought together a family
I'm standing strong now
'Cause I once sat on your knee"

-Lyrics to "Old Sea Capitan" by Storyhill

A song I have heard many times but up until that day had never paid attention to the words. I remember a big smile coming across my face as I realized how obvious it was now that God was telling me something.

To be continued...

You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.
Jeremiah 29:13

God Still Speaks, part two

:: the book ::

The week following dad's funeral, I set out to a local Christian bookstore to find some reading material on death and the grieving process. I didn't have anything in mind and I didn't really know where to start. I wandered to the section on grief. I scanned the books in the section for those about death, picking up anything that had a cover that looked appealing. I found a book compiled by author Nancy Guthrie that looked like it would suffice and headed to the checkout. As I was waiting, I re-read the back cover and realized that the author had a preceding book that boasted translation into several languages, "Holding on to Hope: A Pathway through Suffering to the Heart of God." Hmmmm...on second thought, maybe I should start with the first book? The title said it all.

I was having difficulty locating it on the shelves, so I walked up to the help desk to see if someone else could locate it for me. The woman kindly told me that it was out of stock but she could order it for me. Let's face it, I live in 'generation now' and although the thought of reading a book on my iPhone still makes me scowl, mail order was not good enough. I decided to try a few other stores first. Barnes & Noble was the next place I checked - none at either location in town. Humph...the library? I guess I can settle for borrowing it if it means that I get it faster. Nope, neither library that I have cards for had it. As I struggled to locate a copy, I decided it was a sign that I really needed to read this book! I called Dan in a panic. He talked me down and then into ordering it on half.com. Thankfully, just as fast as he ordered it he received an email confirming same day shipping. I wasn't thrilled about waiting but thought I could get by for a few days. It took TEN DAYS for the book to get to my house. So for those of you who may have wondered this before, I have come to the conclusion that The Pony Express is still used in some parts of The United States.

I opened the cover and began to read. Below is what I found printed inside the page to the introduction (and the first sign that I believe I really was meant to read this exact book):

"Hope is symbolized in Christian iconography by an anchor. And what does an anchor do? It keeps the ship on course when wind and waves rage against it. But the anchor of hope is sunk in heaven not on earth."

-Gregory Floyd, A Grief Unveiled

Aha. That explains it. Faith, Hope, and Love are the symbols on my charm. It all makes perfect sense! Why didn't I think of that before? I have absolutely no idea why I didn't, and I have to admit that the word "duh" came to mind after I read the excerpt. I don't feel too bad though because my girlfriends also did not know that the anchor was a representation of hope! I love my charm so much more this way because I had the chance to attach my own personal meanings to it first.

To be continued...

You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.
Jeremiah 29:13

God Still Speaks, part one

My dad unexpectedly passed away on August 30th. It has been almost three months now and for some reason I feel ready to write again. My dad always loved reading the stories on my blogs and although he never figured out how to leave a comment, he always called me after reading and we would laugh together recalling the events. He won't be calling me after I post this, and that is hard to accept. I have had so many emotions since I first heard that he was gone.

I'm happy; that we had the relationship that we did and I don't have any big regrets. I had the blessing of spending the day with my dad the day before he passed away and I remember very clearly that the last thing I did was give him a big hug, kiss him on the cheek, and tell him that I love him. I didn't have to search my memory banks trying to remember; I was and will always be very conscious of that last moment. I have always been a daddy's girl. My dad knew me, I knew him and we enjoyed spending time together. We were so good at making each other laugh.

I'm angry; that he is gone. How he died. It was at least 20 years early. Why him God? Why now? I wasn't ready.

I'm sad; I can't call him anymore, not at any time or for whatever I need. He is gone. I wish I could remember everything he ever said to me. I think about him and I stop breathing. My heart has a constant ache; in fact I now truly understand what it means to have a "heavy heart." Hannah remembers him now, but I know that won't last forever, and for future grandchildren dad won't be there to welcome them to our family. He will not be there to sing "Grandpa loves a her!" or say "Well...hi!" and click click click to make her smile. (What a baby hog he was!)

I'm thankful; I had 14 adult years with my dad. He was there for many of my happiest moments, like when I bought my first car, my first Jeep, and when I graduated from college. He was there to answer the call from Dan asking for his blessing to marry me. He was there to walk me down the aisle, lift my veil over my head and give me away. I have pictures of dad and me at my wedding smiling from ear to ear. He was there when we built our house and it was in that driveway where he stood waiting for us when we arrived home from the hospital with Hannah. He celebrated life right along with us.

I'm unsure; Yes it happened. I have to tell myself that over and over like I'm schizo or something. It was not just a bad dream. He is gone.

I'm scared; they are big shoes to fill. I don't feel capable. First Grandpa Netley, then Grandma Netley, and now dad - the three biggest Christian influences in my life - all of them have now passed. This Christmas will be the first without grandma and dad.

Amidst these emotions and more, I have been talking a lot to God, more than I used to. I am hearing His voice.

:: the charm ::

On the night of my dad's prayer service, I received a special gift in memory of my dad. Some of my best friends drove all the way from Des Moines to the little Adaville Methodist church near Akron Iowa where my dad grew up. They brought me the gift, a charm for my Pandora bracelet. They knew the history behind my bracelet and that my dad, the collector that he was, had been the one that had most encouraged me to fill my bracelet with charms. The charm they gave me was silver and inscribed in it was a cross, a heart, and an anchor. They explained to me that the cross was to represent our Christian faith, the heart our love for each other, and the anchor was a symbol of the memories spent with dad up at the lake. It was perfect. That evening I carefully threaded it on my bracelet.

The more I thought about it throughout that sleepless night; I decided that really the anchor was a representation for who my dad was. He was the anchor. The next day as we stood in church waiting for the funeral service to begin, I leaned over to my stepmom and told her about the charm and what the symbols each represented to me. She squeezed my hand in agreement.

You can imagine my surprise when during the funeral the pastor said:

"The truth of God's word is an anchor for our soul, it's what we need, giving us strength for today and hope for tomorrow."

I heard the word "anchor" and sat up a little. Was it just a coincidence? It's not like we reference anchors very often...it was so special to me. After hearing this the charm was even more meaningful to me. The next week when I returned to work, I wrote my friends an email stating that I was so grateful to them for the gift and that not only was it symbolic of our memories up at the lake, or that my dad was the anchor, but that at the funeral I had been reminded that the bible is also our anchor. The charm will not only remind me of my dad but that I have my heavenly father's written word to comfort me until we meet again.

To be continued...

You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.
Jeremiah 29:13

prayer for today

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.

--Reinhold Niebuhr

Senior Year part 3

Eleven years ago today: Monday, August 23, 1999. It was my twenty second birthday and the day I really knew it was love. Dan had been in Iowa City helping me move into my new apartment the past weekend but had to leave on Sunday to go back to Ames to take care of his own living situation and prepare for his classes at Iowa State that would soon begin. We said goodbye and planned to meet up the next weekend again, as our plan was just to take one week at a time. Neither of us was looking forward to the long distance part of our relationship but we both wanted to make it work. Lucky for us traffic rolls at an average of 80mph on I-80, keeping the drive between Iowa City and Ames under two hours (actually well under two hours but don't tell my dad I said that).

It was early evening and I was standing in the living room talking to one of my new roomates and her boyfriend when all of the sudden I see Dan walk by our living room window. I wondered if I was just seeing things for a second but knew it had to be him as he was wearing his favorite mustard yellow Abercrombie baseball hat, a ringer T, jeans, and (I'm sure they were) shiny white sneakers. In his arms were a dozen roses. "Surprise! Happy Birthday!" he said as he walked in the door and handed me the flowers. He said it with his laughing smile, knowing that a surprise it was. My roomate and I stood with our jaws dropped in total shock, I remember her saying "You were just here!" and going on and on about what a great surprise it was. Her boyfriend smiled and just shook his head. It could have been because it was obvious Dan was smitten and he knew he wouldn't hear the end of it from his girlfriend for months, or maybe it was for the same reason as me...as I was holding a bouquet of crimson and yellow, the colors of rival ISU. I changed into less scrubby clothes and just like that a seemingly uneventful birthday became a night out on the town with the person I most wanted to spend it with.

This bold move was more than just a nice gesture, it was the true starting point of our relationship. Although things had much improved over the summer, I was still a little unsure if he loved me and if he was willing to make the commitment to be with me alone. This was how he told me that he was. From this point on we spent our weekdays working really hard so that we could spend our weekends together without having to work or focus on schoolwork. We spent every single weekend of my senior year together, alternating mainly based on family events and twenty first birthday parties. We spent our time between Iowa City, Ames, Sioux City, and Pomeroy; always together.

I wondered what it would be like between us when our relationship existed away from the sheltered church camp environment where we met. It was a fact; we didn't know much at all about each others lives outside if camp. There had been very few if any opportunities to meet extended family and friends. I imagined the reaction his Pomeroy friends would have when they heard we were dating...I pictured them all standing around their tractors shaking fingers at Dan in disbelief and saying (with heavy twang) "But she's from the city!" Looking back now that makes me laugh so hard. I couldn't have been more wrong! Slowly we made the transition to "normal" life and the more I spent with Dan, his friends, his family, the more I loved him.

More than halfway

Not that I'm counting or anything but this is just your friendly reminder that we are more than halfway to CHRISTMAS! (enter whistle...It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year). And, I'm starting on my (non-edible) handmade gifts early. I can't wait to get started. It is going to be nuts - as in nutcrackers and chestnuts roasting on an open fire nuts. And if the spirit of Christmas moves me, I might just listen to a little Mannheim while I'm working on my gifts. It's Christmas in July!!

The Sidelines

On Saturday, June 5th, 2010 Dan ran the infamous (around here anyway) “Dam to Dam” 20K Race. Hannah and I woke up at 4:30am to drive him to the shuttle stop where he would catch a ride to the start. We planned to wait at both mile four and near the finish to cheer him on, however the steady falling drops of rain made me wonder how I, or rather how I and a two year old, were going to manage.

I admit it; I’m not always the most punctual person. For many things it doesn’t seem to matter all that much, certainly not enough for me to change my bad habit, but today I knew if we were late by even a few seconds, we could miss him. With that in mind, I figured that going home before the 7:00am start was not a good idea. I would be sure to greatly under estimate the time needed to drive there, get stuck in traffic, arrive on time but have nowhere to park, or worse yet, fall back asleep and miss entirely. I didn’t want any of that to happen so instead we went for a little drive to Ankeny to kill some time. First stop – Wal-Mart. We were in desperate need of a couple umbrellas. Hannah was dressed for the occasion wearing her green froggy rain boots and light pink rain coat but I thought that she really could use an umbrella to complete the look, not to mention a new object might hold her attention for five minutes. We shopped quickly and found the perfect pair – a large black umbrella for myself and a child-sized variety in Hannah’s favorite shades of pink.

One of the most important things to do to keep my child happy is to keep her belly full. With plenty of time to spare we decided that even though it was early we were hungry. Isn’t it funny how that works? As we parked the car, we thanked God for senior citizens because without them IHOP wouldn’t have been open at that forsaken hour of the morning. I ordered the smiley face pancake complete with strawberry eyes and a grin of banana slices for myself and the short stack for Hannah. I wish! Lucky Hannah! The pancakes swelled our bellies beyond capacity and mommy got her coffee. We were happily off to mile marker four.

The rain continued to fall but it wasn’t enough to keep us away or to keep the runners from running. We crossed the street and found an open spot to stand where we thought Daddy would see us and began to wait as the rain gently fell from the sky. I set Hannah down to her feet and she looked at me curiously. I wondered why she looked confused and told her it was ok to splash around. And then I realized as I watched the look of amazement on her face that today was her first day playing in the rain. I tried not to choke on my guilt. My daughter is two and has never played in the rain. Time seemed to stand still as I watched her hold her umbrella over her shoulder and look in wonder down at her boots splashing in the puddles. It may have been late, but I was there for it.

We scanned the faces of the runners as fast as we could, knowing that daddy would be running by any minute. With the race capped at 8,000 runners, we couldn’t afford to look away for even a second. It was then that I heard the dreadful word. You know the one. P-O-T-T-Y. I ignored it. She said it again, and then I made her say it three more times just to be sure it was what she was really saying. I picked her up, told her that we would go find one soon and hoped that she didn’t pee on me. Luckily we soon saw daddy’s smiling face running toward us. We smiled big waving violently and instead of a baton, we passed him the GU.

I wondered when we arrived why almost everyone was standing on the opposite side of the street, the outside of the corner, where I though it would be harder to see the faces of the runners. Now I knew why. Crossing the runners would be an obstacle under normal circumstances, not to mention in a downpour with a two year old and two umbrellas. We waited and waited for a quick break in the massive crowd but knowing that she was likely to pee on me any second I decided it was best to fold up the umbrellas and make a run for it. It was in the opposite direction of our car, but we ran with traffic and eased our way across the street being careful as could be not to cut any of the runners off. Whew - we made it to the potty in time!

Final destination - finish line. While I drove downtown I fought off nightmarish thoughts…you greatly under estimated the time needed to drive there, you’re going to get stuck in traffic, you will arrive on time but have nowhere to park…It wasn’t so bad until we got close and then I couldn’t find a place where I could cross the street; everything was blocked off for the runners to pass through. I finally found what I thought was a spot to cross only to quickly discover that I had pulled onto a dead end street. Amy you idiot. Luckily there were cars packed in like sardines on both sides of the street with barely enough space for me to squeeze through and it only took a half an hour to do a twenty point turn in my large white Tahoe and then as I’m starting to drive out another car pulls in, realizes the same thing and then takes what seemed like twenty minutes to reverse out. It’s a good thing they were looking over their shoulder as they backed out because I’m pretty sure the look on my face read I WILL RUN YOU OVER. I closed my eyes and exhaled loudly out of my nose.

We soon found our way. With the race and the ever popular farmer’s market going on at the same time downtown – parking was indeed nonexistent. Don’t panic. It was best to stop wasting time looking for a close parking place. The last thing I needed was getting stuck behind a Buick creeping through a parking ramp, driving through each and every level pausing every time a spot appears to be open or someone appears to be leaving only to discover that there are no spots available in the entire ramp. Yes, I am speaking from past experience! (Dam to Dam 2009). Instead we drove farther away where I knew we could find a spot and walk/run to the finish.

Watch out people – crazy mom on the run! The words didn’t even have to come out of my mouth, people just knew. We dodged people, dogs, cats on leashes, and everything else you see downtown on any given Saturday in the summer. The humiliation of running with a non-jogging stroller was worth it because we made it. We saw Daddy’s big finish! We cheered and clapped, we were so proud of him! Not only did he finish his first 20K but he did it in the rain. I was also proud of Hannah and myself; we had finished a race of our own. To celebrate, we met Daddy at the Nollen Plaza fountain. Hannah looked at me in amazement as I rolled up her jeans and told her to splash around with the other kids (including me)! I was there for it.

:: note ::

Before I started writing this I thought I was taking a different approach. I was going to talk about how difficult it can be to stand on the sidelines. Even though I can be extremely happy for someone else, at the same time I often think “I wish that was me.” And on this particular day I was standing there happy for Dan, but at the same time wishing I would have ran it. It made me think about how it isn’t always easy to be on the sidelines…Poor me.  But then I wrote it down and I recalled the joy I felt that day. How proud I am to be Dan’s wife and Hannah’s mother and what a good day it was, just as it was.

Light shines on the godly,
and joy on those whose hearts who are right
Psalm 97:11