Celebrating John's Birthday

One of the things I did during 2020 was help my parents sort through boxes of photos. Most of them dated back to more than 9 years ago because that is about the time we started using our phones as cameras. We all looked much younger in 1994.

One of those boxes was labeled John and was filled with pictures he had taken  

• of snowmobile trips with friends
• of trailers he had made and sundry farming photos
• of he and Lana and their trips to watch NASCAR races
• of their wedding
• and envelopes full of pictures of his precious daughter, Elizabeth.

I looked at some of them with tears in my eyes. He was a good son, brother, and friend. He was a faithful loving husband and he was such a good daddy. His smile lit up the room. He liked to tease though some didn't understand his sarcastic humor. His care for others was genuine. Life wasn't easy, but he was a good man who trusted in Jesus. 

Last Sunday morning, I listened to this song and I thought of John. We started singing it at my church about the time John died, 9 years ago. I remember times when I had to let others sing it over me because the words stuck in my throat as tears of raw grief ran down my cheeks. It speaks of Jesus' wondrous love that tasted the sting of death for all, disfigured and disdained, and 3 days later rose to shame the throes of death and overturn his rule.  The bridge and the final lines joyfully proclaim: 

He has cheated hell and seated us above the fall

In desperate places he paid our wages, one time, once and for all

... The man Jesus Christ laid Death in his grave. 

These words expressed the truth that was my rock 9 years ago. They still do. I'm so thankful that God has opened my eyes to see the beauty of Jesus my King. Those who despised and killed him actually participated in his coronation as they placed the thorns on his head. Because of him, this life is not the end. Yesterday John celebrated his 49th birthday with Jesus, his grandparents, Aunt Suzanne, and, knowing him, many many new friends he's met in the last 9 years. 

If it seems like a fairy tale that is too good to be true, ask God to open your eyes so you can see the glory of his sacrifice that understands and redeems your pain. 

Baseball at age 5

A couple of weeks ago Exo turned 5. He was excited about it for weeks and would proudly announce to anyone who asked that he was almost 5. Exo is a little guy with a ton of energy. He's short enough that he uses a booster seat at the table. He typically runs instead of walking and is known to jump from the furniture and attempts flips and standing on his head. He's also pretty smart, can write his name, and most days he can tell me what they worked on in Pre-K. He loves his little brother and smothers him with hugs and kisses.  He's super ticklish if you can catch him.

His birthday was a beautiful sunny fall afternoon and when I got home from work some friends were here eating ice cream in celebration. Because it was so nice and we had extra hands, we went outside to try some "baseball" with a big plastic bat and ball. Some cardboard that hasn't made it into the recycling worked as bases. Exo's instinct was to run to third base after getting a hit. Eventually he got it figured out, though he sometimes ran directly from first to third.  He just likes to run. At one point, all the kids were on base so we talked Christine into taking a turn with the bat while I held Joshua. Pretty soon the neighbors from across the street came over with their 3 year old boy who had been telling them since we got out there that he wanted to go play with those kids.

I wasn't in town for his birthday party the following Sunday but I heard stories about their baseball "game". The American family doing the pitching reported they were in the field while everyone else took turns batting and running the bases This time Mario got in on the action as well. A few days later I turned on the World Series so the family could see a real baseball game. Unfortunately the few innings we watched didn't have much action and no runs were scored. They were amazed at how the players snatched the ball out of the air with their gloves. The shots from the blimp brought several comments as well about the size of the stadium, the number of people there, and the number of cars. 

A Small Moment

I am often in classrooms during writing time so I've heard teachers from Kindergarten to 3rd grade tell their students to write about a "small moment" that really happened to them. I think they do this right at the beginning of the school year because kids find it more interesting to write about something they did over the summer than the mundane of the school year. Typically my week is rather mundane, but this week didn't feel that way at all. So here's small moment from the week that held many more.

Monday morning I woke up to the sound of thunder and rain on the roof. It has rained so much during September that Mario asked me one morning if it was rainy season. I told him this isn't normal and that this is a record breaking month in a year when we've received over 16 inches more than normal. My first stop Monday morning was the doctor's office. By the time I got in the door, I felt like a wet dog as I took off my rain jacket and gave it a good shake so I wouldn't drip all the way to office on the 2nd floor. When I came out, only a light sprinkle was falling. However water was running along the gutters and I took a couple of detours to avoid deeper water running across the street. In places water was gushing out of people's yards onto the street.

Once I got to the school I decided to set up shop at an empty table at the end of one of the hallways rather than going to my usual space out in a portable.  It was a wise choice as it rained all day alternating between sprinkles and what the French call "raining ropes". I watched the puddles in the playground turn to a lake and the low spots fill with water. The official total for the day was 2.07 inches but others reported over 4 inches in their rain gauge. The weather man expects the rain to continue for the next couple of weeks with an occasional day of sun in between systems. It looks like talk about the weather will continue to include comments about being thankful that it isn't snow, people telling their water-in-the-basement stories, and wondering how the farmers are going to harvest their crops.

Cabbage or Garbage?

Yesterday I was eating the noon meal with Mario, Christine and the kids. Christine had prepared chicken and rice. As we started eating she said something about "garbage." After a few questions and input from the kids and Mario I figured out that she was talking about "cabbage." I pointed to the trash can and said that was the garbage. Christine laughed. At supper she did serve some cabbage and verified that she was saying it with a 'c' sound rather than a 'g'.

Most of the time when we are eating, I'm the odd one out as the conversation is in Swahili. I don't mind. Christine needs to be able to talk with her kids. I do put my foot down when Nathalie says, "Mom wants to know...." I turn to Christine and ask her to tell me directly. She gives me a big smile and tries.

I've also begun introducing them to American sports. Mario watches soccer every weekend and the rest of the family seems to enjoy it as well. Yesterday when I was watching football, Christine and the kids came in. Exo enjoys WWE so he likes the physical aspect of the game. After watching for a few minutes, Christine asked, "What are they doing?" I tried to explain the overall idea and then said, "It's complicated." Christine didn't know that word so I said, "It isn't simple." No it isn't.

I've also started teaching the kids to hit a ball using a plastic ball and bat.  If I get the pitch anywhere close, Exo gives it a good whack. I need to get Mario out there and see if he is a better pitcher than I. And sometimes when the cousins are over, I can try to teach them the concept of running the bases. Come to think of it, baseball isn't a simple game either. I might need the help of some videos.

Year 3, Week 1

Last Thursday was the first day of school at the start of my third year as a school-based Occupational Therapist. Here's a few of the things I observed on the first few days.

• I went into one kindergarten room where the class was sitting on different colored lines on the carpet. They were to go line up when the teacher said the color of their line. One of the students from the pink line got up when the blue line was called. The teacher repeated her name over and over with absolutely no response from the student. When she got to the door, an aide looked at her name tag and pronounced her name differently. The girl immediately looked up at her. Say her name right and she'll respond!
• Day 1 can be rather chaotic in special education classrooms, especially when there are new students.  I was in two such classrooms on the first day that had some very busy students who were in constant motion. One of the boys has a goal of sitting for 1 minute while working on a task. We were elated to see him playing with play dough for 3 1/2 minutes while I provided some physical boundaries by kneeling next to him with my arm around him. We've requested a chair with sides and a pummel so he has additional physical boundaries all the time. We'll see if it helps.
• Day 2 I arrived at one of my schools and was immediately asked, "Have you read your email?" I was then told about a kindergarten student who had a very difficult first day to the point where she spent most of the day outside the classroom because she was being so disruptive. When I went to observe, this girl was doing great. As far as I know she did well all day. My theory: She had been very anxious the day before and was so worked up that she couldn't calm herself down enough to participate. Thankfully, once she knew what to expect, she was participating with her class. 
• I checked in on a boy who had had significant behavior concerns last spring. He also had a great first day. One example: he was one of the first dismissed to sit at the table for snack. I saw him pick up a piece of popcorn, put it down and ask, "Can I start eating right away?" His teacher responded, "Great question. We are going to wait until everyone is seated. And next time I'd like you to raise your hand." What a difference from the defiant, shoe-throwing kid we saw last spring. Summer was good for this student and he's with the perfect teacher for him. She has high expectations for all her students and also lets them know that she cares about each one of them. 

Life has changed!

I am sitting in the sun room, my favorite room in my new home. Lingala music is coming from the TV in the living room, sounds of a knife on a cutting board in the kitchen, a crying baby in one of the bedrooms, and the patter of 4 year old feet in the hallway. Yes, life has changed dramatically.

This morning, Mario and Christine and their three children ages 8, 4 1/2, and almost 3 months moved in with me. They arrived in Waterloo from Kenya on a cold evening last December. The small group I'm a part of met them at the airport to welcome them and have taken turns visiting them at least once a week. As Christine's pregnancy progressed the ladies who don't work have accompanied her to many doctor's appointments. The kids also had doctor appointments and dental procedures. Only Mario managed to escape multiple doctor visits. The kids adapted quickly to school and Natalie sometimes fills the role of translator for her mom. Their gentle spirits and faith in God have made it easy for us to love them.

When Mario expressed to us that he didn't feel safe in the house they were living in and how much he could afford in rent, we discussed different options. While out on a morning run I had the idea of them coming to live with me. I have room in the new home I moved into in May. The huge yard is begging to have some kids play in it and the basement reminds me of Mom sending my brothers and I downstairs to run off some steam in the winter. Mario would not have to be concerned about his family while he was working 2nd shift. They could get on their feet financially, improve their English, and save money to buy a house of their own. The group was supportive and the men are helping finish a 2nd bathroom in the basement. Mario and Christine were delighted and are so very thankful.

Yesterday when I showed the two older children around the house they were elated. Natalie looked around and said, "It's beautiful." When I showed them their bedroom and explained they would be sharing it she did a little dance. Exo is more quiet but his eyes were shining with excitement.

This morning the group helped them move their things over here while a couple of the ladies took the kids shopping for school clothes. My office, the guest room, and most of my living room furniture has been moved to the basement but there is still plenty of room for the kids to play. Christine worked on getting the kids' room organized while Mario hooked up the TV. 

Now that it is quieted down, Christine is learning her way around my kitchen as she prepares a meal. Mario is unpacking in their room. I held precious Joshua as I typed this until he fell asleep and now he's sleeping on his little bed in the corner of the dining room. Natalie went to explore a bit outside and Exo is watching cartoons.

Mario's brother stopped by earlier and said my offer for them to live with me was an answer to prayer by everyone in the family, including their parents in Congo. He thanked me over and over again and said that I was now part of the family. I told him what I told Mario and Christine: their being here will likely me bless me as much if not more than it blesses them. There will be difficult times, days when I wish I had a little more space in my room, or more quiet at night, or easier communication across cultures. There will be days when they wish the temperature was a little higher in my house. (Mario is already wearing his coat with the AC set at 73.) I know I will cherish the quiet Sunday afternoons while they are at church. But I expect that I will also greatly miss them whenever they move out into their own place.

Laments

I've always loved singing. Mom tells me that I used to sing about what I could see from the backseat of the car. My lyrics talked about the road that was by the ditch that was by the fence that was by the corn. (Our landscape is stunning in Iowa!)

Most of the singing I've done since I graduated from high school has been in a church context. Over the years I've reached the conclusion that we tend to get our theology more from the songs we sing than from the sermons we hear. As a result, the two most important questions to ask when determining what to include in a church's repertoire are: 1) Are the lyrics theologically sound? and 2) Can this be sung no matter how hard or good life may be? After that comes other considerations such as singability and musical tastes. I'm a part of Redeemer Church in Cedar Falls. We sing theologically robust songs with lots of words and almost every week we sing at least one song that can be called a lament. We always end on a joyful note as we revel in the gospel that is good news in every circumstance.

Currently my church is experiencing great sorrow because Micah, the 8 year old son of one of our families, died as a result of an accident on Tuesday. Wednesday evening much of the church gathered to pray and sing together in our grief. Others from the community also joined us. The mood was somber as I walked into a very quiet space. No music was playing. Micah's picture was on the screen. Children sat quietly. The only talking was done in whispers. The only sound that could be heard more than a few feet away came from the little ones who can't yet talk. Shortly after Micah's parents came in and sat flanked by close friends the elders began our time together. We prayed and read scriptures that speak of our hope in Jesus, death losing it's sting, the resurrection, and God being the God of comfort and the one who wipes the tears from our eyes.

Dirk then took his guitar and after a long pause to gather himself, he explained that at Redeemer we see singing as a primary way we fight for joy when we are together. God commands us to joyfully obey but we can't make ourselves be joyful. There is no switch we can flip. We must have God's help if we are to sing, and sing loudly.  As we sang, Dirk needed to pause at times between verses and songs so he could continue to lead us. Some could not sing because they were overcome with emotion but their lifted hands showed that they were in agreement with the words being sung around them. Micah's parents were too tired to stand but they sang through their tears.

In my first draft of this post, I quoted significant portions of the songs we sang. But as I've reflected on it more, those words don't mean as much when read on a page. The music and singing them with others adds to their power. Some of the snippets that have come back to my mind include:

Lord, we believe. But help our unbelief.

Lord, we believe. But help our hearts to sing,

That you are good, all of the time

All of the time you are good.

O God, you never leave my side

Your love stands firm through all my life...

Height nor depth nor anything else can pull us apart.

We are joined as one by your blood.

Hope will rise as we become more than conquerors 

Through the one who loved the world. 

So when I'm drowning out at sea
and all your breakers and your waves crash down on me,
I recall your safety scheme.
You're the one who made the waves
And your Son went out to suffer in my place
And to show me that I'm safe.

Though tonight I'm crying out,
"Let this cup pass from me now,"
You're still all that I need.
You're enough for me. 

I was deeply moved as we sang, Lord I need you, Oh, I need you. Every hour I need you... It was sung at the top of our voices in beautiful harmony. The death of a fun-loving boy reminded us that we are weak and helpless creatures who control nothing and are utterly dependent on our creator for everything. Maybe that is why Solomon says it is better to be in a house of mourning than a house of feasting. Mourning resets our perspective and draws us back to dependence on God. 

Dirk wanted to end with a song that would get Micah dancing so we proclaimed: 

All our sickness, all our sorrows

Jesus carried up the hill.

He has walked this path before us,

He is walking with us still.

Turning tragedy to triumph,

turning agony to praise.

There is blessing in the battle,

so take heart and stand amazed.

Rejoice!

When you cry to him he hears your voice.

He will wipe away your tears. Rejoice!

In the midst of suffering He will help you sing.

Rejoice!

When I was growing up, a quote from Martin Luther hung in our living room near the piano. 

Next to the Word of God, 

the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world. 

We experienced that reality on Wednesday evening. The truth we sang had been read and prayed but it touched a deeper cord when it was combined with music which allowed us to proclaim it loudly together. I'm sure that I'm not the only one who has been singing some of those words throughout the day. No wonder Paul tells us to sing to each other (Eph 5:19).

The mood was still somber when we finished. Many tears were shed and hugs were given but there was also a sense that the long road of healing and comfort had begun.  I left with a sense of gratitude for those who have written laments and church leaders who make sure we sing one almost every week. As a result, when we desperately needed them, we knew them and, with God's help, were able to sing them loudly with all of our hearts.