A Little Girl's Dream

Our daughter Mary and her husband Aaron, and their three little boys (four year old twins Micah and Eli and two year old Isaac) are in the process of adopting a little baby girl from Ethiopia. Mary has her nursery just about ready - just a few little touches here and there are all that need to be done. One of the sweet pictures on the wall is an oval, silver framed picture from a calendar she had as a little girl. It is one of her treasures. It is an artist's illustration of a little African American girl surrounded by all of her favorite things, and the look on her face is one of pure joy. Then Mary pulled out of the closet her Bitty Baby American Girl doll she received for Christmas when she was about 10 years old. It too is an African American baby and again, one of her treasures.

When Mary was little, around the age of four or five, I remember watching something on television with her about children in an African country who were starving due to a famine in that area. It touched the whole family, but Mary especially was moved. She wanted to fill up airplanes with clothes and food and take them to the little children and help them - right now! Her desire to in some way go and help children who were orphaned whether here or overseas never really materialized during her growing up years, but it was a dream that never left her heart.

Fast forward about 16 years and Mary met and fell in love with a man with a heart for the world. Aaron did a missions internship when he was a student at Grace University for nine months in Kenya. Even though he now is a partner in Cornerstone Remodeling and works long hard hours, he has over the years headed up several missions trips for his church to Zambia where they have helped start an orphanage, as well as trips to Haiti and Mexico. They began saving from the very beginning of their marriage for something missions related - maybe with the hope of one day serving overseas. They've done without many things, been happy with used, rescued, renovated and now live in a 100 year old house, are raising three little boys, while saving for a dream.

Then, one day Mary began reading blogs of those had adopted children from other countries. More and more she began to think, maybe we could do this too. She and Aaron began thinking and praying and about a year and a half ago began the long and difficult process of adopting a child from Ethiopia. The journey is almost complete. They've been matched with a little baby girl they have named Hope, and are in the gut wrenching waiting period - waiting to hear from the courts in Ethiopia about when they will be able to make their first trip over to legally adopt their little girl. Of course, it won't be the end of the story. It will just be the beginning. But, it is the culmination of a dream that began in the heart of a little four or five year old girl so many years ago.

You see, God was at work in the heart of my child. In the busyness and "hurry up-edness" of life, most of the time as a busy mom I was charging ahead - doing the next thing, making sure everyone was clothed and fed and lived in a fairly clean house. As a young mom I was focused on raising children who would be contributers, have good manners, and hopefully not embarrass me too much! But, forgetting or perhaps not really thinking about the fact that in the swirl of life, here was a little person with hopes and dreams as big as mine. And, even if I didn't pay very much attention to the intimacies of her heart - noticed and loved by the same big God who noticed and loved me. And, He had a plan that began long before Mary was ever born.

Hope was born to a poor teenage Ethiopian mother, but in eternity past, she was chosen for Mary. Soon, the little girl who ached to hold and help those babies who lived so far away, will be holding and rocking little baby Hope - as her mother.

Matthew 19:14 - "But Jesus said, "'Let the children come to me. Don't stop them! For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these.'"

Hope Tree

Living in Oklahoma, we experience extreme weather conditions - tornadoes, straight line winds, ice storms, heat, drought - even earthquakes! Like everyone, we clean up the messes, pick up the pieces, suffer through the heat, and deal with things the best we know how. In our backyard we have a small redbud three that has weathered just about every storm you can imagine. Twice the little tree has literally torn in two - with great branches hanging by a piece of bark, twisted and lying on the ground. After one such episode we almost cut it down. "No, please don't cut it down, yet!!" Spring rolled around, and, could it be? Yes! The little half tree had buds then leaves on it's remaining branches! Our little tree was alive and it didn't look horrible, maybe a little twisted and off center, but beautiful to me. Another winter, another ice storm - another crush of life and branches all over the ground. More pruning, more cutting, more life squashing. Lord, how much more can this little tree take?! Please, please don't let it die. Another cold winter, lots of snow, harsh cold - another spring, and - Oh my my goodness - lots of leaves on this little tree! Bent, bruised - torn - but beautiful. My little Hope Tree.

Life has it's share of storms too. Sometimes they come in waves, one right after the other, and we think how in the world are we going to make it through this? Sometimes they come crashing down on us, unexpected, harsh, almost unreal. Sometimes they are simply an undercurrent of sadness, things we can't resolve - issues that never seem to get better or go away, like a drought during a long hot summer. Life crushing, life sapping - Life. And, as I stand in front of my kitchen sink and look at our little mis-shapen tree I think - I can make it too. Losses don't have to destroy or define me but they can produce a kind of beauty in my life. I might be a little wiser, a little less self centered, and more humble in spite of being bruised and most definitely broken. Not who I was, but - beautiful. Jesus beautiful. A beauty that comes from deep inside fashioned by my heavenly Father, the one Who knows and understands and controls all of the events of my life. Who would have ever thought that bruised and broken could be beautiful? Thank you, God - and - thank you, little Hope Tree.

Psalm 51:17 -"The sacrifice you desire is a broken spirit. You will not reject a broken and repentant heart, O God."
Isaiah 42:3 - "He will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle. He will bring justice to all who have been wronged."
Romans 5:3-4 - "We rejoice in our sufferings because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope."

A Few Good Men

This year has seen the passing of some pretty incredible men in my life - my father in law, my voice teacher from college, and my uncle. When I say incredible - they truly were gifted, gracious, larger than life men who impacted my life in quite specific ways. I think we are always looking for a "few good men" to be our role models and leaders, and unfortunately finding them is kind of hard these days. When God brings one into our lives, what a gift.

I knew my father in law first as an administrator and teacher. He had been at Grace for 25 years when I first knew him as a college freshman. I knew he had several children, 7 to be exact, and one was my age. Carlon was a cut above everyone else - and I know why - he had a cut above dad. His first car, his prize and joy, was a Dodge Charger - and he took exceptional care of his prize. He and his dad enjoyed working on cars together. We were waiting for his dad one day after classes, something about the car, and I'll never forget the look on Carlon's face as he looked up and saw his dad walking towards us. It was pure admiration - I've never seen anything like it. I felt a little jealous - did he look at me that way sometimes too?! Did his eyes shine like that when he saw me coming? Probably not at that time - but - wow... wow... wow. That must be one great dad. And, I can attest to the fact that he was. What a blessing to be in a family loved by such a man.

My college voice teacher, Mr. Wiebe, was a musical inspiration like no one I had ever known. My first choice of colleges was not Grace, but God had much better plans for my life! In this small school where everyone knew everyone, I found myself in a warm, nurturing environment for musical growth. Along with that a desire to glorify God with music was drilled into every practice and performance. And passion!!! Mr. Wiebe couldn't complete a rehearsal without dripping with sweat, shedding a few tears, and working us hard. It had to be perfect - and we wanted to be! I memorized every facial expression, every move he made, every cue, every breath - I internalized him! He took a chance on this incoming freshman, giving me a solo in the Christmas performance of the Messiah. Really - ME? Singing "I Know that My Redeemer Liveth" with a full orchestra - it felt like an out of body experience. Had I gone to my first choice of colleges, I know that opportunity would never have been given to - me. He was direct and honest during voice lessons - but that just made me work harder. He had a beautiful bass voice. Mr. Wiebe was absolutely the best musician I had ever known. I've noticed, and so have others, that when I direct I move a LOT. And make lots of faces - expressions - is a nicer word. I feel like I go to a place deep inside, a passion, that only comes out at those times. Well - it's the inner Mr. Wiebe. I've channeled him, unknowingly by the way - but it's him you see in me. I could never change. He was simply the best.

My uncle, Buford Geddie, my Dad's second oldest brother, is probably the kindest person I have ever known. Really - the absolute kindest. He was a handsome, gifted man who loved people in a way I have rarely seen in my whole life. He had a big smile that broke across his face whenever he saw me, or anyone, and never left. I was always Bonnie Ann to my Texas relatives, and he would say when he would see me - every single time, without fail - (remember, Texas accent here) "Why Bonnie Ann! It is so good to see you darlin! How are you!?" And - he meant every word! Who means those words, really means them, most of the time? He owned I think at one time 13 pharmacies in Corpus Christi - and every customer felt like a personal friend. He loved and cared for his parents, called them "Mama" and "Daddy." He truly was a good son. I watched him. When I married, he loved my husband and eventually my children. At the age of 90, I believe he was still singing in the choir, helping out at his church, busy with activities at his retirement home. He took his daughters on an Alaskan cruise about a year ago. He was a good son, a good brother, a good husband, a good father, a good uncle, a good friend - a good man.

Now - I have raised men. I pray that they will also be good men - good husbands and fathers and brothers, and sons. I pray a lot for them, and always have. I pray that they too will leave this a world a better place than when they entered it. I pray that they will be larger than life men, who know what is important, who leave a legacy of godliness in ways that cannot be measured except by the blessings they leave in the lives of the people they touch. It's a big order, I know, but I have seen a few good men - and I know God can answer that prayer.

Memories and Everyday Miracles

When Mary and the boys were here in April while Aaron went to Haiti, we visited the Oklahoma City Zoo. Located inside the Children's Zoo is a aviary for Lorikeets. I'm not sure what they are - but they are colorful like parrots and maybe they have some parakeet in them as well. Anyway, as soon as we walked in we were surrounded, literally, by friendly Lorikeets looking for some nectar. We had a couple of little cups that were gone in a few minutes. I think that was the highlight of the day for me! As I was thinking about putting the pictures I took that day into a video, I added some from the Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha, and then began looking through pictures of the last four years and decided to add a few of them too! I couldn't include all that I wanted to, but here are a few snapshots of the last four years of being a Nana to Eli, Micah, and Isaac. Love you guys. You truly are wonders.

Choices

Urgency and Passion - two words that kept coming to my mind today as I was praying for my country. And mainly - where are they? The picture of the frog in the kettle of water slowing being cooked came to my mind. It's me. It's my evangelical Christian world - passionate about politics and causes, but not very passionate about Jesus. What would passion for Jesus look like in my world? "Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness and all these things will added unto you." What would happen if I really believed and acted upon that truth? I think the time has come to, as the saying goes, "fish or cut bait." I am so unencumbered. And, I think time is short. What will I say when I face my Lord and I have to give an accounting of how I lived my life? An old song I used to sing comes to my mind sometimes - "If I the King of heaven choose, if I the things of earth refuse, the best I gain - the worst I lose, the choice is mine. Because He gave His life for me, because of love on Calvary, I'll serve Him for eternity. The choice is mine." I hardly know where to begin - except to say to my Father once again - here are my eyes, my mouth, my hands, my feet, my gifts and talents, my time, my money - use me for Your Glory. Sing Your life song through me.

March 20 Blizzard - Welcome Spring 2010!

Well, all global warming jokes aside, it is the first time I can remember in almost 20 years of living in Oklahoma that we have had blizzard like conditions this far into March. Spring in Oklahoma. Usually by now the grass has been mowed a few times, spring perennials are in full bloom, flowers and gardens have been planted for the summer, and we've had to run the air conditioner for at least two weeks. Generally by now we've forgotten all about winter here in Oklahoma. Spring in Oklahoma means warm and windy, hot sometimes, and buggy. In Oklahoma spring kind of quickly fades into summer, but this spring eve we are bundled up inside, trying to decide if we should postpone or call off church tomorrow, watching the blowing snow accumulate into drifts across our yard. We understand tornadoes and violent thunder storms and straight line winds that tear down our fences and signs and Bradford Pear trees, but we are not quite so familiar with blizzards. It's an interesting phenomenon - and one we don't really mind - for now.

"May God Give You All Good Mercy"

Two weeks ago my father in law, Don Tschetter, left this earth for his heavenly home. It was unexpected and a shock. He was healthy - strong - vigorous. And, then, out of nowhere it seemed, he had contracted acute leukemia. His hospital stay was less than a week. As soon as we received the call from Carlon's sister who said, you better come now, we left for Omaha and had a day and half with our dad, who only two weeks earlier had been snowblowing! Graduation Day. What do you say to your family when you know you are most likely going to be leaving them for heaven? As his breathing became more labored, and my father in law knew he was preparing to meet his Savior, he said to all of us, "May God Give You All Good Mercy." And then, before he could no longer speak to us, he said, "I love you all." Less than an hour later, he was ushered into heaven. 19 of us huddled around his bed. For awhile we sang favorite hymns, some could only listen, and a son in law read a beautiful Scripture. We were all silently praying. Oh God, help us. Help Dad. Help Mom. His home going was quiet and peaceful. He was finally ready. We weren't. But, after 5 days of not being able to breathe due to his sudden illness, his body was worn out and the Lord gently took him home. Carlon's mom and sisters Cheryl and Connie had literally been with him round the clock since he had been admitted to the hospital. If love could heal, he would have been sent home from the hospital the next day. Before he passed from this life to the next, all seven children and almost every spouse, and several of the grandchildren were able to see him and speak to him, and he to us. The emptiness, the cold hard reality that he is not coming home, the homesickness for him - all are part of the fact that life on this earth does have a beginning as well as an ending. We, I, don't like to think about that ending very much.

As the children faced having to plan both a graveside and a memorial service, the beautiful job he and mom had done in raising these seven children showed itself once again. They sat around the kitchen table for hours crying and laughing as they remembered their beloved dad. As they talked they wondered could any of them actually speak? Cryers, all of them, the answer seemed to be no, we couldn't do that. But, the three boys who have done many memorial services as pastors began to think that yes, maybe they could - and who better to speak on behalf of their dad than his children? So, they did, and the service was truly a celebration of a life lived to the very end to the glory of God. At the graveside, as Carlon led us in prayer and read Scripture, his last words before we left were "Let the celebration begin!" And, without prompting or thought everyone said a hearty "AMEN!" Because, even though we grieve we don't grieve as those who have no hope. We know he is with the Lord, Who most definitely and without a doubt, said "Well done, good and faithful servant. Welcome home."

What do you learn from a life well lived? Well, plenty. For 39 years I knew Carlon's dad, first as a teacher and then a father in law. So - I've seen him in almost every situation that life offers, both heartbreaking and happy, and yes, he modeled what it looked like to be a servant of the living God. He showed me what it means to love unconditionally. As a new daughter in law I always felt welcomed and loved. A man of few words, dad showed his love through kindness and, as my daughter has described, twinkling eyes. He was compassionate and caring. I don't think I ever heard him say a negative thing about another person or institution. Even as Carlon was joking with him in the hospital about great men of the faith who trail blazed different theological paths, his dad said as best he could, "All of them good men." He was a servant to his wife. And she absolutely adored him. How many men draw their wives baths before going to bed? Or wash towels and have them folded and ready for the next day? He was a servant to everyone! He had a building named after him at Grace University, he had received an honorary doctorate from Grace seminary and yet, on any given Saturday he could be found cleaning the carpets at his church, Community Bible. He was a man of prayer. I know this because I see the results - seven children living for the Lord and raising homes centered around Christ. He was faithful in every area of his life. Every thing was carefully tended, watched over, taken care of. As Carlon readied things for his mom before returning home, he had the joy of being able to see just how well Dad had prepared for this chapter of life. Even the school, Grace University, where dad served for 49 years is having a hard time saying goodbye. For now, they want to leave his office there as it is. His was a life well lived.

So, now, we are left to carry on. Will we leave a legacy of godliness? Will we take the baton and carry it faithfully on this leg of the race? That is my prayer.

Tears

We never know what a day will hold or when life will take an unexpected turn, but that has happened this week with the word that Carlon's dad has been diagnosed with acute leukemia. We were shocked by this because even at 83 he looks and acts like a man much younger, and has been very healthy. Two weeks ago Carlon was up in Omaha for the weekend, and his dad was out snow blowing, again, a part of the country that hasn't seen dry ground since October! Energetic, healthy, strong, kind, loving, compassionate, caring, wise, gentle, able, the husband every wife would want to have, the father every child should have, a man who has patterned himself after the words of Scripture, who loves the Lord with all of his heart, who has lived a life completely sold out to Christ and is by far the most incredible man I have ever known. Lord - we need him, he is everyone's rock - we can't say good bye to him - not yet. Oh yes - and prayer warrior, in the very truest sense of the word. You have blessed our family and all of our families through this godly man. Quiet strength, quiet love, quiet trust. Pour your blessings out on him, minister to his soul as only You can, Father. Sing over him, and if it would be Your will Great Physician, please heal him.

Never say "Never"

This weekend I had the opportunity to something I never thought I would ever do - in fact I said at one point I would never do that, because I didn't think that I could do it! I directed a regional children's choir called Circle the State With Song. Circle the State is a choral festival held all over the state of Oklahoma according to regions for students in 4th-8th grade. I first became involved in CtSwS about 14 years ago while I was teaching K-5 music at SWCS. I would encourage my 5th grade students to participate each year. In my music program, it became one of the privileges of being a 5th grader, plus, those who attended Circle the State could try out for the All State Children's Choir. I would also take some of the music from Circle the State and use it for my 5th grade Spring contest at Tri-State in Enid and our Spring choral program. We worked so hard. Students would give up lunch hours to practice for Circle the State and try out for All State. The music was always very challenging and beautiful, introducing me and the children to folk songs from around the world, sacred music, and contemporary arrangements. By the end of the year we had learned how to sing the songs well, with all the artistry a small school choir could muster. Each year my 5th graders would be so proud of their accomplishments and I'd always hear things from them as they moved on like, "We were the best choir ever, right Mrs. Tschetter?" I remember once as we were leaving a CtSwS festival, one of my parents said to me, "You could do that!" meaning direct the regional choir. I thought in my heart - "That is very nice of you, but, no I could never do that in a million years - and I am happy being a participant. That would be impossible. Nope not me. Ever."

You see, CtSwS was my mentor. I would sit in the rehearsals in awe of every director and what they did. I deeply respected the other teachers who I met and thought they must be the best teachers in the world. I wanted to be like them! They worked so hard. When students would go to All State it was like being given a trip to Disney Land, as far as I was concerned! Sitting in those rehearsals and watching those directors was beyond anything I could have ever imagined. The sound, the beauty, the amazement. I wrote down everything I could, tried to take in every word - wishing I could have the knowledge it took to create something so exquisite.

Being able to be a director this year wasn't necessarily a dream come true (I was scared to death) - but it gave me a chance to give back to those who have done so much for me over the years. And, it was an experience I will always, always treasure. Don't ever think Never, and don't ever say Never. You just never know. Our dreams don't begin to touch the Lord's dreams for us - and, we never know what new life song He will bring our way. Cantate Deo! Sing Alleluia!

Who Am I?

It is truly a question of gigantic total self absorbed proportions, but I have been asking myself often these days, who am I? Almost from the beginning of my life (in terms of what I can remember!) I have defined myself by what I have done or who I belonged to. With the passing of time, and as I travel the loop that is taking me through the Autumn of my life, belonging and doing don't seem to be so relevant anymore. Maybe that's because as we get older, life changes - so much. I'm trying to figure out exactly where I fit in and what kind of a difference I am supposed to be making and where? It was much easier when those roles were well defined by childhood, motherhood, teacher-hood, and even in terms of friendships. I like it when life is well defined! Maybe one of the benefits of age and wisdom is the ability to make a difference when the ducks aren't all in a row, the lines are not all that clear, when things get a bit fuzzy; when children grow up, parents age, jobs and friends change. It's definitely a walk of faith. But, the things that still bring exquisite joy to my heart are the same:

Marriage - Falling asleep on the couch with my husband after dinner out and a movie at home. I like, after all these years, pounds, and wrinkles, that we are still friends, and he still finds me beautiful.

Grandparenting - Seeing my grandbabies. Period.

Random - One of my former Kindermusik students, passing me in the hallway at church on his way to his 1st grade class, gave me a big smile and wave and said "I still miss you!" Wow - I needed that verbal hug. And, I miss him too.

Investments - Two former students who made the high school all state choir are in Tulsa this weekend (wish I was there too) and have written me short notes of pure joy. I know exactly how they feel and why. They would love for me to be there. I love that they would love for me to be there. I wish, how I wish, I could be there.

My children - My brother sent me a video he took of my youngest son singing Jesus Loves Me when he was two. He's twenty two now. But, my mother's heart hasn't changed a bit. He's every bit that innocent two year old to me - still.

My Savior - Maybe the Lord wants to delight my heart with new things. Maybe, He's waiting for me to let go of old things. Maybe, it's time to grow up and see the world around me in a new light. Maybe, it's not all about me. Maybe it's time to listen - and hear a new song.

Mark singing Jesus Loves Me - July 3, 1989

If I Could Do Things Over.......

I have reached the stage in life where my children are grown, and the grandchildren ranks are growing. Even though I always vowed when I was younger I would not do this, when I look back at my life as a young mom I see things I wish I would have done differently, or at least been more aware of. It's a mom thing - we never can get away from those feelings. Recently I was visiting my daughter, who is a very dedicated and wonderful stay at home mom of three little boys. I think she does an amazing job of being consistent and faithful to the task of raising those little ones to be good boys and someday, good men. But, like every young mom, she never feels quite adequate for the job (feelings I well remember - and still feel.) She asked me to be honest with her, what do I see that she could be doing differently, what area is she missing - or not giving enough attention to? I couldn't think of anything, really. Every time I am with her I see what a difficult job, physically and emotionally, being a young mom is - and how much I have forgotten about that over the years! I always come away amazed that she still looks beautiful, more beautiful than ever, has a well kept home, boys that are well mannered and sweet (even at 3 1/2 and 18 months), is scheduled and consistent - and very diligent. So - no, I couldn't think of anything to say to her - how could one ever be critical of a hero?

On the other hand, time has a way of putting things in perspective for all of us. My daughter's question made me think and evaluate, not so much about her parenting style, but my own. So, here are some of those life lessons learned through the classroom of time and experience about parenting and children. If I Could Go Back and Do Things Over, I would:

1) Pick my battles. I really mean that. Sometimes it's alright to not win.

2) Celebrate the strong willed child. Just because a child is strong willed doesn't mean that he or she is going to become a bank robber, drug addict, or bum.
They are most equipped to withstand peer pressure when the time comes, and explore new ideas and territory. They truly are willing to travel their own road. They tend to become our leaders. (And make us feel totally incompetent as parents!)

3) Laugh a a lot more. Most turmoil and conflict can be diffused with humor. And, most things just are not that important. Life really can be more fun than we allow it to be sometimes. (I learned that from watching my husband all these years.)

4) Live in the moment. Life is made up of moments, some very small, but mean absolutely everything - a look, a smile, a hand, a hug, a word, a dance, an act, a moment. What keeps us from living in the moment? Cell phones, i-phones, newpapers, books, computers, hobbies, being preoccupied with our own stuff. Really look at that little one - not past him or her.

5) Not compare my children with my friend's children in any area of life and in any stage of life.

6) Not forget my middle child. Yes, this is the child who was left at church because we thought the other person had them in the car to go home. Our quiet, unassuming middle child would slip away and play quietly somewhere - we didn't know where, because he was so QUIET! I will always feel terrible about that - and yes, the middle child has feelings and talents and goals and ideas and opinions that often we don't know because they like to go with the flow and not make any waves - until such time as they are tired of being neglected so they join the army when the country is at war - and are sent to Afghanistan. Don't neglect the middle child.

7) Play more games. Not read more books, play more games. I don't enjoy games, especially the never ending Candy Land. But, especially when the youngest child wants to play a game and you are tired of playing 1,000,000 games of Candy Land - play it.

8) Pray more. I don't think we ever feel that we pray enough - but no one needs prayer more or needs to pray more than a young mom raising the next generation of mankind.

Go hug a young mom today. No one needs it more. Except maybe, an old one.

Happy New Year!