Will Never Forget

We were all packed up and ready to take my youngest daughter Haylee back to college in Eastern Pennsylvania.  On this particular trip back, my parents wanted to come and take a look at Haylee's campus and dormitory for her sophomore year of school.

It took us much longer to arrive than we had expected.  Along the way, my dad had to stop numerous times to use the bathroom.  His bladder was signaling to him that he had to go but in reality, he couldn't.  I couldn't figure out why we were stopping so often, thinking "is dad drinking too much soda or what?" Anxiety began to creep in that we wouldn't reach our destination at a decent time.  It never occurred to me that there was a problem, until my dad was in excruciating pain because of his bladder.

We stopped at a rest area just inside the Pennsylvania border.  I was adamant that my dad and mom should travel back to Michigan even telling my dad to drive Haylee's car back. Instead, we decided to find an emergency room because he wasn't sure if he could make it back.

God was going ahead of us on this one.  In Sharon PA, we found an urgent care center just a few miles off the expressway.  I was relieved to see that it was not busy.  My dad was taken into a unit to have his bladder drained.  They fitted him with a leg bag and a catheter.  Feeling relieved, we were soon on our way again.

My parents did get to see Haylee's campus, dorm room and meet some of her friends on that adventure.  It wasn't until two months later we received the awful news that my dad had stage IV prostate cancer.  I remember sitting in the office with my parents, my sister and myself when the doctor broke the news to us.  "Well", he said, the horse is out of the barn".  Meaning, there's nothing we can do but try to prolong my dad's life a little bit more.

My mom, sister and I walked with heavy hearts back to the waiting room while my dad underwent some lab tests.  We were stunned, shocked, our world had been severely shaken.

Through all the chemo, radiation, holistic treatments, juicing programs, labs, x-rays and much more, my dad was a trouper.  He would witness cheerfully to the medical staff taking care of him and was never a problem patient.  His focus was always on others not himself.

My dad eventually became bedridden because of the cancer, not able to attend church and share his warm, inviting presence with the church family, visit our home or travel to our cabin up north.  He was sorely missed.

Many came to visit my dad at home.  During their visit, he would talk about life, his family, and his God.  He never bemoaned his condition or felt sorry for himself. Not my dad.  He encouraged those who came to visit, inspiring them on to live a greater life for God and ending their time in prayer and praise.  How like my papa.

During his last days, he wasn't aware of his family around him.  My papa was already experiencing a little bit of Heaven as he lay dying. He was entering into that great and glorious heavenly home.  I remember him saying "all those books."  We were certain he was seeing the library in heaven with "all those books."

His gaze was continuously directed to the upper corner of his room, as if he was seeing events we could not see.

Finally, his breathing became labored, his last gasp of air was exhaled and my papa was taken to a better place.

That day will forever be etched in my memory.  

My dad was a hero in life, and he was a hero in death.

THE MUSIC OF SPRING

Spring has officially arrived with warmer weather setting in and sunnier days chasing away the gloom and harshness of winter.

Goodbye to the gray days of winter. Hello to Spring!

Spring is like a rebirth - what once was lying dormant is now coming to life. Our hearts are glad for a new season. 

It might even be appropriate to say that "Hope springs eternal". You can see it just by glancing outside our windows....and, most importantly, even inside of our hearts.

Jesus, who is our eternal hope, never goes out of season.  He's always encouraging us to let our hope grow and our faith bloom - so what's happening outside in nature can also happen inside of our hearts.

Hope is the music of Spring.  

Hope that we will grow and bloom after the difficult season of our winter.  As Isaiah 35:1-2 says:

"Even the wilderness and desert will be glad in those days.  The wasteland will rejoice and blossom with spring crocuses.  Yes, there will be an abundance of flowers and singing and joy!" NLT

Look at that verse closely.  It says in this version "there will be an abundance of flowers and singing and joy!"  What an image to visualize. Hope is springing up in abundance.  

The Biblical definition of hope to me is this: a certain expectation of good things to come.

In our Spring, we can look for the joyous melody of God's everlasting love and celebrate the promises and blessings He gives to us. Our spring season can be full of rich foliage and vibrant growth.  

It's a time to sing and make music in our hearts to our God.  We can have a song of hope in this season, which is a melody that God bends down to listen to.

According to Julia Bettencourt from Creative Ladies Ministry, we can look forward to our Spring because.....

God Will Give Us Wings To Fly (joyful soaring).

He has a wonderful way of taking our lives and molding them to do great things.  As Christians, we have a wonderful fulfilling life. Isaiah 40:31

God Gives Us Food For Growth.

We have God's word to guide us and make us grow. Jeremiah 15:16

God Gives Us A Song.

The strength that joy brings to our lives should make us walk with that Spring in our steps.  Nehemiah 8:10

So what are we waiting for?  Let's hear the music of hope and sing to it.  Let's allow our hearts to dance for joy.

"And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us."

YEP....I'M A PASTOR'S WIFE

Many books have been written on how to be a pastor's wife, the role of a pastor's wife and even suggestions that she is the most vulnerable person in the congregation who lacks attention, is lonely and whose identity is weak. Maybe this has been other pastor's wives dilemmas, but not mine. 

The Bible doesn't have a job description or office called "pastor's wife", as I recall.  It's only the people's expectations, not God's.  

Addressing the "How To's" and the "Role"
I've never thought about the "how to's" or the "role".  I don't believe there is a model for a pastor's wife.  My role is just to be me.....Sharon - a little quirky, fiesty, loving to laugh and make others laugh, using my sarcastic humor on those I feel "safe" with, pulling pranks, fitting in where my gifts can be used, making friends with women in our congregation who have the same interests and aren't looking for insider information, to support my husband with encouragement and to make our home a safe place for him to hang his hat, put his feet up and chill out.  He loves coming home, always has. 

My husband doesn't place unwanted expectations on me.  I've attended funerals, weddings, camps, youth events, open houses, conferences and more with my husband, but not every one. He knows me well and gives me a choice.  

I've encountered people who ask me questions I can't answer and get the...."but aren't you the pastor's wife? Shouldn't you know that?" What should I know? How to manage the heat and air conditioning, where to get a video/DVD player for a class and how to set it up, where the meeting for such and such is taking place, who's in charge of a school event, when the baby shower or bridal shower is for whatchamacalit, where to find a missing piece of equipment, or the "can you tell Bruce"....? (I'm good with one sticky note in my brain on any given Sunday. Anymore than that, and I'm in overload).  

Since we are a fairly large congregation, God has gifted others to answer these details. I simply answer: "I don't know". If needed, I will direct them to somebody who does know. 

Quite simple, indeed.  

Vulnerability
I don't think I'm the most vulnerable person in the congregation either. Let me just say this: when you are involved with many different personalities, there will be clashes. Every member in the congregation is vulnerable not just me.   

Lacks Attention

Frankly, I'm not one who needs a lot of attention either. I'm pretty independent, self-motivated and goal-oriented.  I'm not needy. I understand fully my husband's job.  He understands my transcription home business. 

I've never felt cheated that my husband's hours are undefined or he has events in the evening when he has worked all day.  I'm not one to nag, be clingy, insist that he stay home.  I do require that he call when he's running late so I don't worry.  My children and I have never felt deprived of his attention or complained when daddy came home late.  Because I never made this an issue, neither did my children.  

Feels Lonely
Have I felt lonely?  At times, yes.  Isn't this with all people though? We can be in the middle of a crowd and still have bouts of loneliness.  It's not just in being a pastor's wife.  I believe loneliness can be a soul-cry to God for close relationship with Him.

Weak Identity
I'm not lacking for an identity.  I find my identity in Christ - not in my husband, others expectations, leading worship, being involved in our Girlfriends ministry or in facilitating a Bible study.  I'm not absorbed in a role.  

For Me....
Let's face it, I'm not perfect nor ever will be.  I will make mistakes and disappoint people.  I will try to defend my husband, even though he says it's not necessary.  I will continue to be feisty, outspoken when appropriate and most likely not measure up to unrealistic expectations.    

Being a pastor's wife isn't about me fitting into a role. Thankfully, these preconceived notions have changed over the years.  It's about me being who God created me to be while loving and taking care of my family. 

This I can do.

THE BUTTERFLY LESSON

One day a small opening appeared on a cocoon. A little boy sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through the little hole. Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it could and it could go no further. So the little boy decided to help the butterfly. He took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The butterfly then emerged easily, but it had a swollen body and small shriveled wings. The little boy continued to watch the butterfly because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body which would contract in time.

Neither happened! In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings. It was never able to fly.

What the little boy, in his kindness and haste, did not understand was that the restricting cocoon and the struggle required for the butterfly to get through the tiny opening was nature's way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom from the cocoon.

Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our life. If we went through our life without any obstacles, it would cripple us. We would not be as strong as what we could have been. We could never fly. If we live like the little boy then it's very difficult to get past the very question about life and death that already has an answer beyond our understanding. And that is, it's just like the struggling butterfly...

I ask for strength.....I receive difficulties to make me strong.
I ask for wisdom.....I receive problems to solve.
I ask for prosperity.....I receive a brain and brawn to work.
I ask for courage.....I receive danger to overcome.
I ask for love.....I receive troubled people to help.
I ask for favors.....I receive opportunities
I receive nothing I wanted...I receive everything I needed.
I ask for life.....I receive death to receive eternal life and salvation.
Every one of us will eventually break out of our cocoon and fly

Taken from my dad's writings on his website:  www.nuggetsoftruth.com

FINISH THE RACE

Last Saturday was the big 4 mile run/walk.  I was excited to get out of the house that Saturday and get my feet hitting the pavement and breathing in the fresh air of the soon-to-come Spring.  This time around, I chose to walk since the bottoms of my feet have become tender when running over two miles.

Upon arriving, we weren't sure if we would find a parking spot. Thankfully, one was waiting for us just a few feet from the entrance.  We checked in, received our race number and expectantly waited with the rest of the crowd.

Since it was the St. Patrick's Day event, costumes of green exploded everywhere. Socks and legwarmers of stripes and plaids, tutu's, running skirts and tops, hats of all shapes and sizes, stickers on the face, big green sunglasses all made their appearance.

The comradery of all participants is always my favorite to see.  I met two women who joined a running club two years ago.  These women are in their 40's and have become close friends with each other and the women in their running club.  They were all decked out in their green sunglasses and crazy hats.  Both women were from the Rochester area and participate in races all over the state. 

Friendliness abounds.

I also met my running buddy from high school, Vicki.  We ran track together for two years - sophomore and Junior years. We were a great team.  I hadn't seen her since our 10 year class reunion. We had become "friends" on Facebook recently, so I found out she was running this race.  There wasn't much time to chit chat before the race but it was great to see her beautiful smile again.  We're talking about meeting up and taking a walk and just catching up on life. You just never know who you will meet.

The runners start first.  As the walkers are heading to the starting point, we're conversing with each other, laughing and joking around. 

Personalities shine. 

I try to start in the middle of the pack, so I feel like I'm accomplishing something if I pass someone.  Crazy right? One of my goals in this walk was to find a woman who was ahead of me and match my steps to hers. I found many such woman, but kept wondering why I wasn't getting closer.  What's up with that? Still scratching my head on that point.

I was challenged to walk faster though.  I find that when my mind is tired, I walk slower.  This was a tired mind day, so I had to quickly find that not-so-slow-minded person to give me a walk for my money.

When the mile one marker came into view, every walker cheered loudly. Those on the sidelines encouraged us on to mile marker two. 

Onward!

For some reason, I never saw mile marker two.  Wondering out loud I said, "good grief! is mile two ever coming"?, finding out later it was right after the first water station where a large group had gathered to voice their encouragement again to us.  "Good job" they said. "You're almost there. Keep walking on"!  

I found myself saying just those words to those who would pass me. It's just that kind of atmosphere.  Mostly, people are trying to beat their last time or get some form of exercise.
   
In the middle of mile two, my feet began to ache. I did have this evil thought - "I don't know if I can finish this.  I could just rip my number off, give Bruce a call on my cell and have him come pick me up". Then the good thought kicked in - "No, Sharon! You finish this race even if you are last. The ache isn't that bad. The key word here is FINISH!  Don't give up!  Feet don't fail me now".  

I kicked my walking into a higher gear at the last mile.  It paid off. I found myself with a new determination. I felt like a horse heading back to the barn.  They tend to pick up the pace knowing their almost home and will receive a reward - food, a scrub down, a slap on the behind.  

As I turned the last corner, there in my view was the finish line - all downhill. Oh joy! I jogged over the finish line.  Applause, a medal, a feeling of accomplishment, and gratefully, no slap on the behind.

In my Christian walk, I want to finish well. No giving up when things get messy, difficult or painful. Pushing through my discomfort with an eternal view.  I want to be the one jogging over that finish line, receiving the applause of Heaven, the reward waiting for me because....

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith".  2 Timothy 4:7 NIV