For Want of Wit: 2

I spent the last 6 years teaching Latin at a classical Christian school here in St. Louis. A teacher must always be prepared for the unexpected, including unannounced visitors. These visitors might be the headmaster who is coming to evaluate your content, technique, classroom management, etc. Maybe they are members of the school's development team looking for promotional ideas or photo-ops. They are occasionally current or, more often, prospective parents.

Over time, I got used to the idea of being observed by analytical adults and I gained a measure of confidence in my ability to teach, so I didn't worry too much about their presence in my classroom or what kind of impression I was making. I pretended they weren't there and just "did my thing."

In fact, one morning, when several adults had been sent into my classroom, I was so unaffected by their presence - lollying along in my usual dramatic teaching style - that I didn't even realize, UNTIL HALFWAY THROUGH MY LESSON, that I was carrying around and drinking my coffee from THIS cup:

Stupid.

Help Me, Rhonda

My friend, Rhonda, like so many of my other friends, is more comfortable around me when I'm being my usual smart-alek self. It's the occasional "nice" me that unnerves her. So, I'm warning you, Rhonda, you may just wanna leave now...'cause not only am I gonna be NICE...I'm gonna be nice ABOUT YOU. No...there's nothing wrong with me...really.

First, let me tell those of you who don't know her, a little about Rhonda. Picture this: she's the consumate Librarian/Artist. WHAT??!! Imagine the stiff and serious demeanor of your typical librarian, combine it with the egotisitical weirdness of your typical artist and....that's so NOT Rhonda. She IS wonderfully creative (she designed and created the most elaborate and gorgeous decorations for me for VBS a few years back), and she is a children's librarian who appreciates children's books, largely, because she has a delightful sense of humor!

So, she's creative, funny and a bit of a smart-alek herself. That's why I like her. Well, that...and she didn't abandon me altogether a few years back when I suggested how she might deal with her ill dog. When I put my imaginary "finger-gun" to my head and pulled the trigger, my motivation was a compassionate heart that didn't want to see him suffer anymore.

Yeah...O-K...she didn't buy that either.

Why am I telling you about Rhonda? Though she tries to hide behind a veneer of shallow ignorance, she is indeed a harbinger of profundity. (I know they don't use words like that in children's books, Rhonda. Look it up, dahling...in one of your library dictionaries.) How did I learn that behind this veneer lurks a storehouse of wisdom? She accidentally let it slip out last night while giving a "devotional" at a bridal shower! In spite of her reluctance to do this thing, Rhonda couldn't hide her creativity, her sense of humor...OR her wisdom. And she revealed all this using the medium with which she is most comfortable...a children's book!

The author uses the very common occurence of making and eating cookies to illuminate the principles of living well together. Rhonda specifically applied each of these principles to marriage, ultimately communicating the primary rule of Christian living: My Life For Yours. How many people could discover that in a children's book about making cookies? Only the wise ones...like my friend, Rhonda.

Thanks, Friend, for the conviction and the encouragement...and for saying "Yes!" (And don't hate me for being nice...it won't happen again anytime soon. I promise.)

From the Merchant of Venice

This play is one of my absolute favorites! It presents a powerful contrast between the demands of law and grace. When Shylock declares, "I crave the law!" the wise judge instructs him thus:

The quality of mercy is not strain'd

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven

On the place beneath. It is twice blest.

It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.

T'is mightiest in the mightiest. It becomes

The throned monarch better than his crown.

His scepter shows the force of temporal power,

The attribute to awe and majesty

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings.

But mercy is above this sceptered sway.

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings. It is

An attribute to God himself. And earthly power

Doth then show likest God's

When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, O man,

Though justice be thy plea, consider this:

That in the course of justice, none of us

Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy.

And that same prayer doth teach us all

To render the deeds of mercy.

Beautiful, isn't it? That Shakespeare guy really knew what he was doing. This is my memorization for this week. Join me, anyone?

The Prodigal...Son?

It is not an uncommon experience for those of us who've grown up in the church to discover, as adults, that we've harbored misconceptions, prejudices and distortions about Christ, the Bible, or Christianity, from our childhood. These can be as comical as my mother singing, "Lead on, O Kinky Turtle" (Lead On, O King Eternal), or her thinking that "Gladly" was the name of a "cross-eyed bear" (Gladly the Cross I'd Bear). Other times we learn that our misunderstandings were doctrinally significant and require a major shift in our thinking.

One false impression which I carried into adulthood, which turns out to be rather innocuous, is that the word "prodigal" meant something like "returning from rebellion." Afterall, the story of The Prodigal Son was primarily about him rebelling, going away, then returning to his home. Though I knew he wasted his inheritance along the way, I never associated the word "prodigal" with his spending habits. So...imagine my consternation when I first heard suggested that the story should instead be called "The Prodigal Father." WHAT?! Oh, wait! The word actually means "lavish or extravagant expenditure."

In the story, who is it that manifests the greatest prodigality? Indeed, the son would have had no inheritance to blow if the father had not given it to him! The father knows his son will waste it. He knows he's rebellious. Yet, when the son asks, the father gives.

Then...when the son returns empty-handed, the father doesn't lecture him about personal responsibility and facing consequences. No "you-made-your-bed-now-lie-in-it" mentality here! He gives forgiveness freely and joyfully!

There is no sermon, no penance required, no hoops through which to jump to prove his sincerity...NO! Instead, contrary to all our instincts, the father gives deeply from his own resources to host an extravagant celebration!

As if all those expressions of generosity were not enough, he also gifts his son with all his familial rights, restoring him to sonship!  


All this generosity is scandalous!  What about reaping what you've sown?  What about justice?  What about proving yourself before you're restored?  What about blessings and curses?  Is this father foolish to extravagantly push all his resources toward this son who has wasted his earlier gifts in riotous living?  The older son certainly judged his father harshly for his prodigality.

The father is indeed the True Prodigal...the truly lavish spender! Imagine for a moment how re-naming that story might alter our viewpoint. The emphasis shifts from the foolishness of the wayward son to the generosity of the faithful father. This necessarily carries huge implications for the way I view my relationship with God the Father and then, in turn, should alter the way I parent my own children.

My tendency is to let them bear the full weight of the consequences from their sins...or at least to make them suffer a little...or to hold back full and free forgiveness and love until they prove they've really repented! Ah, how much I still need to be transformed by this simple story I've known all my life! How much I have to learn from our Prodigal God!

Meditate on that and rejoice with me in His generosity.

The Little Things

Sunday evening as I updated my church family on my brother's condition and implored their continued prayers for him, I also gave thanks that all his organs are still working. After I said that, I wondered if it seemed to others that I was desperately grasping for a "silver lining" in the midst of the havoc that this cancer is wreaking on his body.

Truth is, I'm not grasping. As many of Jeffrey's physical abilities and strengths have waned, and as I see his body wasting away, I can't help but be aware of those bodily functions that are still doing what they're supposed to. Since his first diagnosis, he's had cancer in his liver, kidneys, lungs, and other organs, yet they are still doing their jobs. I'm not silly enough to believe that it will always be so, but FOR TODAY, his lungs work and I'm thankful. FOR TODAY, his kidneys work and I'm thankful. FOR TODAY, his pancreas works and I'm thankful. These "little things" are suddenly momentous.

I'm also thankful for the small miracles performed every day through modern medicine. Though they are mediated through doctors and science, the fact is, they are nevertheless a manifestation of God's unfailing grace toward humanity!

The most recent developments in Jeffrey's situation:

He experienced his first broken bone this week - a rib. This is probably the first of many to come because the cancer is all through his skeleton. His reaction: "I'm glad it's only a broken rib." Because it was causing difficulty with his breathing, he was afraid his lungs were filling with fluid, making the diagnosis of a broken bone a welcome one.

Yesterday he ended up in the hospital for a few hours because he couldn't open his eyes or move his head without throwing up (imagine heaving with a broken rib). He was extremely dizzy and the one time he attempted to stand, he "collapsed" in Dawnn's arms. He couldn't eat or drink even a sip of water without losing it. At the hospital, they hydrated him intravenously and were able to subdue both the vertigo and the nausea. Everyone's fear was that the cancer had begun to invade the brain, so the docs did a scan...FOR TODAY, his brain is clear and we're all thankful!

My dad and my brother, Richard, lifted him into the van and headed for home about 8pm last night. By midnight he was able to eat, and keep down, a carton of yogurt.

If you would, keep him in your prayers. Also remember his wife, who labors tirelessly and uncomplainingly by his side day after day and night after night, while still raising 3 little ones. Pray for his girl, Cierra, who is very aware of Daddy's sickness and who faces a little boy at school every day who laughs cause her daddy has cancer.

I know these posts about Jeffrey are a bit of a downer, and I know it's a lot bigger deal to me than to any of you, but in some small way it helps me to tell what's going on and to know that many of you care enough to pray.

From Our VBS Curriculum

Christ has come, the Light of the World.

Long ages may yet elapse before his beams have reduced the world to order and beauty, and clothed a purified humanity with light as with a garment.

But he has come:

The Revealer of the snares and chasms that lurk in darkness

The Rebuker of every evil thing that prowls by night

The Stiller of the storm-winds of passion

The Quickener of all that is wholesome

The Adorner of all that is beautiful

The Reconciler of contradictions

The Harmonizer of discord

The Healer of diseases

The Savior from sin

He has come!

The Torch of truth

The Anchor of hope

The Pillar of faith

The Rock for strength

The Refuge for security

The Fountain for refreshment

The Vine for gladness

The Rose for beauty

The Lamb for tenderness

The Friend for counsel

The Brother for love

Jesus Christ has trod this world. The trace of the Divine footsteps will never be obliterated. And those Divine footsteps were the footsteps of a Man! The example of Christ is such as men can follow.

On! until mankind wears his image!

On! toward yon summit on which stands,

not an angel,

not a disembodied spirit,

not an abstract of ideal and unattainable virtue,

But The Man, Jesus Christ.

By Peter M. Bayne

No More Words of Love...I Promise

So, were you a little weirded out by that last post? Yeah...me too. Let me explain.

Some contend that blogging, by its very nature, is entirely self-revealing. While I acknowledge that it is partially revelatory, the fact is, the blogger has complete control over what is revealed and much of his/her life remains completely private and obscure.

I, for one, primarily write about the intellectual antics taking place in my brain and don't engage in deep, personal revelation, right? Please say yes. For example, have I ever shared my New Year's Resolutions with you? Nevermind that I haven't made any for the previous 10-20 years. Why don't I make New Year's Resolutions? Well...not only am I unable to create a list that isn't entirely overwhelming, it seems a bit artificial to make promises to myself. I mean, c'mon...if I really want to do a thing, I will. And if I don't, I won't. Calling it a resolution doesn't make me any more determined to do it. Besides, if I break a comittment to myself, who really cares? And who even knows? If neither pride nor shame are motivating factors...what's the point?

Even if I did make NYR, I doubt I'd share them, you know. Afterall, do I really want to broadcast everything I'd like to "fix" about myself? Not so much.

Here's the dilemma: if I make resolutions and don't share them, they are meaningless promises to myself. If I do share them, I open myself up for:

1) revealing more than I care for you to know about my personal life

2) revealing more than you care to know about my personal life

3) showing how utterly lame my expectations for myself are

4) public success - which is self-promoting and self-congratulatory

5) public failure - which is actually not so bad, 'cause it makes other people feel good about themselves

Alright...so prepare to feel good about yourselves.

This year, I decided to make resolutions...but only 3 of them, mind you. The first is for the benefit of my aging body and the second is for the benefit of my heart (you know, the one from which the mouth derives its speech). The specifics of these two shall remain undisclosed for everyone's sake! The third resolution, however, is for the benefit of my aging mind and you, my faithful readers, are about to be "in the know."

If you paid any attention to the beginning of this post, you may wonder what in the world all this has to do with explaining the previous "Words of Love" note. Well...my third resolution is to memorize at least 1 poem, or literary passage, or Scripture passage, or hymn, etc. each month, in order to keep my brain active. My choice for February was the Lord Byron poem which I shared on Valentine's Day. Since my mental and emotional energies are directed to activities other than writing these days, I have to share other people's thoughts with you and those newly memorized "Words of Love" were at my disposal. Feel better now? Me too. Can't have you thinkin' I've turned all soft and sweet on you now, can I?

Words of Love

There is no land so sacred, no air so pure and so wholesome

As is the air she breathes, and the soil that is pressed by her footsteps.

Here for her sake will I stay, and like an invisible presence

Hover around her forever, protecting, supporting her weakness.

from Longfellow's Miles Standish

I've got a tattoo with her name right through my soul

And I think everything she touches turns to gold.

from Guy Clark's Stuff That Works

They look'd up to the sky whose floating glow

Spread like a rosy ocean, vast and bright;

They gazed at the glittering sea below,

Whence the broad moon rose circling into sight;

They heard the waves splash, and the wind so low,

And saw each other's dark eyes darting light

Into each other - and beholding this,

Their lips drew near, and clung into a kiss;

A long, long kiss, a kiss of youth, and love,

And beauty, all concentrating like rays

Into one focus, kindled from above;

Such kisses as belong to early days,

Where heart, and soul, and sense, in concert move,

And the blood's lava, and the pulse a blaze,

Each kiss a heart-quake, - for a kiss's strength,

I think, must be reckon'd by its length.

from Lord Byron: Passionate Romantic

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!

O, that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek!

from Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet

Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist

In the past, if company was coming, here's what I would do throughout my whole house in addition to the typical dusting, sweeping and mopping:

Empty, clean, and reorganize every drawer, cabinet and closet

Scrub all baseboards

Take down, launder and rehang all window treatments

Wash all doors, handles and frames

Dust and wash blinds

Move all furniture, dusting the backs and vacuuming underneath/behind

Scrub all garbage cans, inside and out

Disassemble all fans/light fixtures and thoroughly clean before reassembling

Launder all layers of bedding - pads, sheets, blankets, quilts, shams...

Empty and scrub inside and outside of fridge

Pull out fridge and oven and clean underneath

Clean oven

Scrub dining and kitchen tables and chairs, including legs

Launder shower curtains

Remove all books from shelves, reorganize, dust each one, and clean shelves

Hang all rugs outside to beat out dust and freshen

I'm fairly sure I've left out several things, but you get the idea. It was not fun being me! And, understandably, we only had company once or twice a year. Those who have been in our home in the last couple of years know that now the pendulum has swung the opposite way.

Don't get me wrong...there's still nothing I love more than a house completely clean and fresh from top to bottom! The difference is that now I can function even when it's not.

What changed? I'll save that for another day...I have some spring cleaning to do...I'm hosting Supper Club Friday night!

For Want of Wit: 1

I know what you're thinking. This could be a reeeaaaallly long post. But don't worry. I promise not to divulge all my stupidity at once...I shall regulate the dose to minimize side-effects. Even then, I'll spare you any consequential stupidity and focus only on those incidents which someone, somewhere, might find entertaining.

Snow in Chattanooga is rare, so when it does fall, life comes to a stand still...in the most literal sense. At first, all of us transplanted northerners who were attending school there were disappointed. "What do you mean everything is closed?! It's only a couple inches!! We have the day off and no place to go!" Little did we know this presented us with unlimited opportunities.

However, being the resourceful, adventurous people we were, it didn't take long for a scheme to form. Though I don't remember being part of the planning, I was fortunate enough to participate in its execution!

One of the northern dudes just happened to own a jeep, another just happened to have an inflated innertube, while another had a long and sturdy rope. After dark, we tied the innertube to the back of the jeep and pulled each other around the streets of Chattanooga. Yep...the streets! No one was on them! No ONE! Not even police officers! It was some of the most fun I've ever had...even though I ended up in the ER.

How? you ask. Well...thanks for caring.

At one point, we hit a fairly large bump in the road and I went airborne, landing on my face. The impact was stunning, but I assured everyone I was unharmed and had my wits about me. All were relieved until they saw blood streaming down my face! Because I was freezing cold, I didn't realize that the impact had split open my forehead just above my right eyebrow.

A couple hours and about 14 stitches later I really was fine. That is, until the next morning when I saw myself in the mirror. I worried for weeks about permanent damage to my face (feel free to abstain from sarcastic remarks here). In the end, all I have to show for it is a tiny scar which only shows itself when I get a sunburn.

The moral: Stupid = Fun

Back to The Future Again

As I contemplate the future - of our nation, of The Church, of pop Christianity, of my children - I am reminded of Calvin's "What of It?" remarks, in which he encourages us to look confidently to and find our hope in Christ, who is seated at the Father's right hand...now! I've quoted this before, but it's good stuff...worth repeating.

Jesus is at the right hand of God in this nature which He assumed with us...He is always ready to stretch out to us His hand, and we must be certain that, although we suffer for a time, the end of it will be for our salvation. That is what must be understood when His Ascension is spoken of. Thus, since He has gone up there, and is in heaven for us, let us note that we need not fear to be in this world.

It is true that we are subject to so much misery that our condition is pitiable, [but] we look to our Head Who is already in heaven, and say, “Although I am weak, there is Jesus Christ Who is powerful enough to make me stand upright.

Although I am feeble, there is Jesus Christ who is my strength.

Although I am full of miseries, Jesus Christ is in immortal glory and what He has will some time be given to me and I shall partake of all His benefits.

“Yes, the devil is called the prince of this world. But what of it? Jesus Christ holds him in check; for He is King of heaven and earth.

There are devils above us in the air who make war against us. But what of it? Jesus Christ rules above, having entire control of the battle. Thus, we need not doubt that He gives us the victory.

I am here subject to many changes, which may cause me to lose courage. But what of it? The Son of God is my Head, Who is exempt from all change. I must, then, take confidence in Him.”

Let us live what we confess! Christ the King will perform his will in, through, because of and in spite of who the president of the United States is. Let us not think for a moment that we are wiser than the One who sets up all rulers and authorities. Let us not forget the way in which He accomplished His will for His people through the likes of Pharoah, Nebuchadnezzar, David and Paul!

You know, He's not surprised or caught off-guard about what to do! And He is more than able to enact His own will for all the peoples of the earth. Trust Him! Do not be afraid!

Back to The Future

In the midst of all the negative talk and fear about where we're headed because Obama is our president, here is a worthwhile post from a former colleague on the Christian's hope for the future (don't read that as the American's hope...they are NOT one and the same, you know!).

Luther on The Estate of Marriage

Now observe that when that clever harlot, our natural reason, takes a look at married life, she turns up her nose and says, “Alas, must I rock the baby, wash its diapers, make its bed, smell its stench, stay up nights with it, take care of it when it cries, heal its rashes and sores, and on top of that care for my wife, provide for her, labour at my trade, take care of this and take care of that, do this and do that, endure this and endure that, and whatever else of bitterness and drudgery married life involves? What, should I make such a prisoner of myself? 0 you poor, wretched fellow, have you taken a wife? Fie, fie upon such wretchedness and bitterness! It is better to remain free and lead a peaceful, carefree life; I will become a priest or a nun and compel my children to do likewise.”

What then does Christian faith say to this? It opens its eyes, looks upon all these insignificant, distasteful, and despised duties in the Spirit, and is aware that they are all adorned with divine approval as with the costliest gold and jewels. It says, “0 God, because I am certain that thou hast created me as a man and hast from my body begotten this child, I also know for a certainty that it meets with thy perfect pleasure. I confess to thee that I am not worthy to rock the little babe or wash its diapers. Or to be entrusted with the care of the child and its mother. How is it that I, without any merit, have come to this distinction of being certain that I am serving thy creature and thy most precious will? 0 how gladly will I do so, though the duties should be even more insignificant and despised. Neither frost nor heat, neither drudgery nor labour, will distress or dissuade me, for I am certain that it is thus pleasing in thy sight.”

Now you tell me, when a father goes ahead and washes diapers or performs some other mean task for his child, and someone ridicules him as an effeminate fool, though that father is acting in the spirit just described and in Christian faith, my dear fellow you tell me, which of the two is most keenly ridiculing the other? God, with all his angels and creatures, is smiling, not because that father is washing diapers, but because he is doing so in Christian faith. Those who sneer at him and see only the task but not the faith are ridiculing God with all his creatures, as the biggest fool on earth. Indeed, they are only ridiculing themselves; with all their cleverness they are nothing but devil’s fools.

Hillbilly Haiku

Guy Clark has quickly climbed the ladder of my all-time favorite musicians, passing, among others, Alison Krauss, Gillian Welch, and John Gorka. In fact, he is currently vying for the #1 spot which has been solidly occupied by Lyle Lovett for nearly 2 decades!

Guy's gravelly voice, folksey style and crisp, acoustic sound appeal to my musical tastes, while the vivid portraits he paints through his lyrics satisfy my literary tastes. When he proclaims, "There ain't no money in poetry" he surely knows whereof he speaks, because this man is a GEN-U-WINE poet!

From the homey images of childhood in Watermelon Dream, to the profound metaphors in Hands, to the honest and tender love of Magnolia Wind, to the gratitude for Stuff That Works, Mr. Clark's expressions are winsome, witty and wise.

If you don't know this artist, get to know him! If you want to start with a single album, I recommend The Americana Master Series. But if you prefer to purchase individual songs, my top 10 suggestions are:

Magnolia Wind

Sis Draper

A Little of Both

Black Diamond Strings

Stuff That Works

The Cape

Baby Took a Limo to Memphis

Hands

Immigrant Eyes

Watermelon Dream

I haven't found a song of his yet that I don't like, but these 10 make me happy every time I hear them and also demonstrate his versatility. ENJOY!!

Good News / Hard News

Our primary prayer on my brother's behalf has been graciously answered. Jeffrey recently assured my parents that he is at peace with Christ and he wanted all his siblings to know. Thanks be to God.

The week following Christmas was an eventful one during which Jeffrey was hospitalized and received a great deal of new information.

1 - First of all, the cancer is so pervasive in both hips that the replacements they hoped would ease his pain are not an option.

2 - Because the hips cannot be replaced, they hospitalized him for 3 days to try and get his pain under control. The morphine has been replaced by Lidocaine patches, and a combination of other pain killers. Though he received substantial relief while in the hospital, the last few days at home have been tough.

3 - He "graduated" from a cane to a wheeled walker, which is his constant companion. Knowing him, he'll avoid the wheelchair as long as he possibly can.

4 - The chemo has been largely ineffective and will be discontinued in favor of a new, experimental drug whose side effects are significant, but which sometimes works where chemo has failed.

5 - For the first time since his diagnosis in late August, Jeffrey asked for a prognosis. He was told he has about 3 months of life left. Those 12 weeks have quickly dwindled to 11. Though it seems morbid, it's impossible not to count. He gave me this news on Sunday and in response to my tears, I saw him cry for the first time. It's heartbreaking. Although I think he has known his day was drawing near (based on the sentimental and lasting gifts he bought his wife and children for Christmas), there's something powerful about a definitive time-frame being set forth.

As you might expect, we are all overwhelmed at times by a full range of emotions. The sense of sadness grows as the decay of death becomes daily more visible, yet we can't help but be thankful that he has expressed his trust in Christ.

We covet your prayers.

For Jeffrey: That he would continue to bear up under severe pain; that the docs will find the right combination and dosages that will offer him some relief; that he would find increasing peace and rest rather than despair in the face of death; that he would trust the Lord for his boys' futures; that the Lord might see fit to heal him through the Tarceva or through extraordinary means.

For his wife, Dawnn: That she would have the physical, mental and emotional strength to continue her loving and faithful care of Jeff; that she would have wisdom and patience with the children.

For my parents: That they may find consolation in their deep grief; that they would be a blessing and a source of strength and comfort for Jeffrey & Dawnn; that they would hold fast to Christ and continue to champion his faithfulness as they have through various other trials.

Christmas Eve at The Waggoners

This picture about sums it up: We're Crazy.

We are so very thankful for a blessed Christmas Eve at my parents' home. All 6 of their children along with their spouses, 20 of 23 grandchildren, 1 of 2 great-grandchildren, plus Daddy's mom, his brother Rick, and his sister Riesa, were there!! What a crowd!

As is always true at Waggoner gatherings, there was an abundance of feasting on fabulous fare and plenty of laughter to go around...Pam makes sure of that.

My parents don't do the whole gift giving thing every year, but this year, after we stuffed our bellies, we gathered around the tree (or more accurately, we filled up the room which housed the tree) and then Daddy had a heart-to-heart with us.

After expounding briefly on the blessings for both the giver and receiver of gifts, he began with Sherre, the eldest, and moved down to Jeffrey, the baby, verbalizing specific ways each of us has been a unique gift to him and Mom. It was beautiful and sweet.

Dad proceeded to explain why they had chosen a particular gift for each of their children this year. He reminded us that the strong and sometimes destructive stormy winds are the same winds that elicit beautiful music from a wind chime. Their desire is for each of us to remember that lesson when the inevitable storms arise, and their hope is that the chimes they gave each of us will serve as a reminder when the winds blow and we hear the melodic sounds. It was moving and meaningful.

Our whole family believes (though it's not really spoken yet) that unless something extraordinary takes place, we were spending our last Christmas with Jeffrey. Daddy and Mother found a way, without being morose, to make this evening special and memorable for all of us.

Nephew, Ryan, is a self-taught musical prodigy (like his mother Pam) and is also a consummate entertainer (like his mother Pam)! He led us in a few carols, then after displaying his vocal and guitar prowess, he performed "Police Never Die" a satirical rendition of "Felix Navidad." There's nothing like a little music and comedy to lighten the heart! (I make him sound like an arrogant, limelight-seeking, stage-hog, but he's actually a sweet, humble, servant of the Lord and we BEG him to entertain us!)

Jeffrey, in spite of being barely able to walk down the stairs, stayed with us for about 5 hours. That was a HUGE blessing and a definite answer to prayer.

Thanks be to God for an evening filled with good gifts, as tokens of his Great Gift, The Word Made Flesh.

Sherre's Family

(minus Jessica & Jocelyn)

Pam's Family

Lori's Family

Vicki's Family

Richard's Family

(minus Courtney, Lawrence and Tommy)

Jeffrey's Family

Grandma, Uncle Rick & Aunt Riesa

Maricia's Family

Police Never Die

The men modeling their new jammie pants

The Mother Lode

As you can see from the pictures below, Riesa was quite satisfied with her Christmas! She was like a little kid opening her gifts! She'd get all excited, clap, rub her hands together gleefully and give a silly, hearty laugh before shaking each one right near her ear. It was like having a little kid in the house again.

She was her usual dramatic self when opening her gifts.

The "cell phone" was a big hit. She carries it in her pocket and pulls it out everytime I use mine and her conversations usually last longer than mine do!

We fed her TV addiction by getting her an HD/DVD combo which she has already figured out how to use.

This thing never leaves her side! She didn't ASK for this, but she kept confiscating MY calculators, so I decided to get her her own! With her eyesight trouble, this one is perfect.

"I'm so sweet!" are the words which usually accompany this gesture. She means that she's really happy!

Julian ended up being with us too, which added to everyone's fun! There's nothing quite like the wonder of a young child at Christmastime (well, almost nothing...watching the fully-grown Steve Shaffer open his black leather Harley jacket was almost as entertaining!). Julian enjoyed watching Aunt Riesa open her gifts, almost as much as he enjoyed opening his own. The only thing he WANTED (Power Rangers), he didn't get from us. We gave him cowboy, knight and Indian costumes with the accompanying weapons. He wasn't quite sure what to think, but he's a very imaginative pretender, so I know they'll get plenty of use over the next couple years. He loved the cap gun, which I let him shoot IN THE HOUSE (much to my boys' consternation)!!

I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas!

The Revised Edition

Riesa has edited her Christmas list at least twice since I shared her wishes with you, and I, personally, find her lists entertaining and telling!

The first revision came when I asked her during carpool one day what she wanted for Christmas. I had never directly brought it up before, so I wanted to make sure I was correctly interpreting her earlier remarks. Here was her answer:

New television set...big, black one.

New rings...2 of 'em: R-E-D and B-U-L-E (yes, that's how she spells blue!)

New purple hat

New socks - Letter B-L-K (black)

O-K then! She didn't name one thing from her previous "list" other than the hat, which changed colors. So, I prompted her, "What else?" Thankfully, she went through the original list. Good. I hadn't misinterpreted her desires.

New walkie-talkies - 2 of 'em

New telephone

New reh-whike-a-blue wheelchair.

I took this opportunity to explain to her that if she gets a wheelchair, she can't stay at my house because the chair is too big. I told her she'd have to go back to My Place (where she lived for a year and half when my Grandad was ill...and she loved it, by the way). Her face fell and she said, "Oh, I see." And you know what? I think she did. She hasn't mentioned it once since then.

A couple days later she advised me of her other wishes. We were sitting at the table having lunch and she pointed over to the Christmas tree and said, "Christmas Eve...right over there..."

New black typewriter - "this big" she demonstrated with her hands what size it should be

New gown - "all the way down" R-E-D

New black shoes - 2 of 'em

A block (she acted out playing a block instrument)

New banjo (she demonstrates for me)

New drums (more demonstration, of course)

New guitar (you guessed it, she played her air guitar too)

And FINALLY: New black glasses (based on the hand motions which accompanied the request, I think she meant binoculars!)

YES, she specifies "NEW" before almost each request. Like I'm gonna go to Goodwill to get her Christmas presents or something! Sheesh! Who does she think I am? AND...she makes sure to tell me that if I get the black shoes, she's gonna need 2 of 'em. Apparently she thinks I might actually go and get her one new black shoe. Maybe she hasn't quite distinguished yet who's taking care of whom here.

Well, since I can pretty much guarantee she's not gonna be reading my blog anytime soon, I can safely tell you she is officially spoiled. She's not getting the typewriter or the noise-making instruments, but she's pretty much hittin' the jack-pot on the rest!

Merry Christmas to all of you! Our family is heading back to New Orleans for a missions trip over break, so you'll likely not hear from me until we return!

May the peace and love of Christ and the grace and hope of His Gospel be yours in full measure this Christmas season!

We Cry A Lot

Jeffrey's last couple of weeks have been filled with sickness. His doctors are fairly certain that all the vomiting is not from the new chemo drug, but from the increased dose of pain medication. Of course, the pain meds can't do him a whole lot of good if he can't keep them in long enough to absorb into the bloodstream.

In addition to chemo, he is currently undergoing radiation on his skull. He has a growth above his left ear that has changed in the last month, so they are targeting it for now. At this point, they're doing chemo to try and slow the progression of this very aggressive cancer, while the radiation is designed to shrink particular tumors so that they are less uncomfortable for him, or to prevent them from penetrating other vital organs (the few that remain untouched).

Yesterday, Jeff was so sick that he couldn't make his scheduled treatment...that's a first. Today, Dad brought him up for radiation. Since his pain level continues to increase in his right hip, thigh and knee, they are going to take an extra set of pictures to see if that bone is deteriorating to the point where they need to keep him in the hospital.

All I know right now is that he is always cold but sweating, he sleeps a lot, he's in a lot of pain and he throws up a whole lot. His sweet wife labors faithfully by his side, trying to make him comfortable, and doing all she can to meet his needs while caring for the 3 little ones and trying to hold herself together. She's doing a wonderful job, but it is beginning to take its toll on her.

We covet your prayers on their behalf. And this may be a selfish prayer, but I'm asking God to give him a good day on the 24th so he can be with all of us at Mom & Dad's.

Speaking of good days: he was able to come with Daddy 2 weeks ago to watch Grant play in the championship game of his basketball tournament. Thankfully I had my camera...we value every moment he's here.

Makeover Magic: DOA

You can lead a horse to water...but you can't make him drink. The fashion pool is one from which my husband refuses to take even a sip.

He tried on the jeans last night (the part I was least worried about...for crying out loud, they're JEANS / AKA: Levi's, and only slightly darker denim...no big deal right?). Apparently, in spite of his boys telling him he looked cool, he decided they weren't "him."

I not only withheld my arsenal of protestations, I also resisted the temptation to tell him how attractive the "un-him" would be, not only to myself, but to all the chics.

After 16 years, I think I may finally give up...maybe. I'm a slow learner.

Falling Down Moments

Have you seen the movie Falling Down? In case you haven't, I'll just say this: it is extremely difficult to watch. The level of intensity remains excessively high throughout every single moment. Do I recommend it? No, not really. So, why am I even mentioning it? Because as I complained to a friend about the emotional and mental perils of driving carpool, she brought it up. After renting and watching it...I know why. For Bill, the accumulation of life's stresses reached their breaking point while he was sitting in traffic on a hot day. I've been there.

Bottom line: I don't like driving carpool. Period. I experience many moments where I am forced to consciously back away from The Edge. All the minor stresses of life seem to coalesce when I'm uptight about the traffic or the time or the way somebody is driving. My perfectionism and rule-keeping tendencies are at their peak. I expect everyone to stay off their bloody phones and follow every detail of the Drivers Handbook...plus all the rules of common courtesy. Silly me.

My darling children, and their friends who are lucky enough to ride with us, have become acutely aware of just how unsanctified Mrs. Shaffer really is. However, I cannot say that each ride has been completely devoid of joy. I have been pulled back from a Falling Down Moment more than once by these highly entertaining bumper stickers which I have actually seen while sitting in painfully slow traffic.

Sometimes the little unexpected injection of humor is that one step back which prevents me from plunging over the precipice into certain insanity.

Makeover Mishap or Magic?

These are busy, busy days which leave little or no time for writing. I miss it. But most of my time is being spent with other people (AKA: friends) and that is a very good thing...a legitimate reason to relegate writing to the sidebar of my life.

Of course, in addition to all the "normal" activities that require my attention, there are holiday shopping and cooking to be done, gifts to be made, wild heads of hair to be tamed, and parties to attend.

And speaking of parties...for most women, the mere mention of a party conjures up one all-important question: What am I going to wear? That's not to say that some men don't wonder the same thing, but they wouldn't readily admit it. My husband is one of those who would never...ever...in a thousand millenia, ask himself what he was going to wear. When it's time to get dressed there is only 1 question to be asked: Can I wear my Levi's? Yes, he calls them Levi's. If the answer is yes, he happily dons them with one of his wide variety of shirts which we affectionately refer to as "Uncle Gary" plaids. If the answer is no, he somewhat happily dons his pleated, cuffed khaki pants with the same Uncle Gary plaid shirt. End of story...life is simple.

Well, little does he know it, but I am about to un-simplify his life. Oh, yeah. I bought him a stylish, manly, ensemble today which I expect him to wear to a party on Saturday. I have attempted to buy clothes for him in the past with very little success. Anything that strays too far from his slightly-dated-comfort-zone feels ostentatious to him and he just can't bring himself to wear it.

My hope is that this is conservative enough and close enough to his comfort zone to be successful. The first picture shows what he would choose to wear Saturday apart from any input from me (which is normal), while the second showcases what I will attempt to entice him to wear instead.

Whad'ya think? Will I be successful? Is it ostentatious? Is it a step up style wise? Hmmmm....

To be continued...