by jphilo | Jan 20, 2009 | Current Events
Today’s inaguration of our first African-American president, Barack Obama, fulfills the dream Martin Luther King put into words when I was an elementary student.
One of my former elementary students recently put words to one of his dreams recently. Nic, who is fighting cancer for the third time in his fifteen years of life, shares his dream at his family’s CaringBridge page. Click this link to get to the CaringBridge website. Type “nicroney” in the box to get to his page. Then click on “Read Journal” and scroll down to the January 19, 2009 entry to see what he wrote. And please, will you join me in praying that someday, perhaps soon, his dream of a cure for childhood cancer will be fulfilled?
by jphilo | Nov 7, 2008 | Current Events
Monday, the sun was shining and the temperature was in the mid-seventies. Today, there’s a skiff of snow on the grass, and the temperature won’t get out of the thirties. The change in the weather is a real shock to the system. But I’m not going to complain. I’m just grateful the weather held on Monday, the day a dozen or so local farmers harvested grain for a fifty-year-old farmer, Lyle Babbitt, who was diagnosed with lung and liver cancer two weeks ago.
I drove to their farm Monday morning and took pictures of the big event so the Babbitts would have a constant reminder of their community’s support. Lyle’s wife Brenda babysat for Anne (from birth to age 3) and Allen (from age 6 to age 8) before her first son was born. She used to take our kids to the farm sometimes. Anne was too young to remember much about it, but Allen has fond memories of the farm, of calling Lyle and reading jokes to him from whatever joke book he’d bought from the monthly school book order.
Wednesday, I emailed Allen about Lyle. Our son was pretty shook and called later in the day. “Why Lyle?” he asked. That’s the question the whole town’s been asking. Why Lyle? He doesn’t drink or smoke, is a wonderful father and husband, a valued hospital employee, a wise farmer, a Christian who lives his faith every minute of the day.
The only people not asking that question are Lyle and Brenda. “We’re Christians so we know everything works out for good,” Brenda told the newspaper reporter who came out to cover the harvest story. “We just don’t know what that’s going to be and God’s timing is not our timing. We’re just taking a day at a time.”
“At least it’s a beautiful day and we’re making the most of every day we can. Praise the Lord,” Lyle added. “Every day is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present.”
I read the article to Allen on the phone. He was quiet for a moment and said, “When I have a chance, I’m going to write to Lyle and and list every joke we told each other. I can remember a lot of them. And Mom,” he added, “tell them I love them, and I’m praying for them.”
I hung up the phone, thankful for a double harvest: Lyle’s grain is safely stored in the elevator, and the compassion his love reaped compassion in my children’s hearts. Will you join me in praying for his sons, Chuck (16) and Eddie (13)? Pray that Lyle’s love and the influence of men of character and faith who fill in the gap after their father is gone, will lead them to trust God as their parents do. Pray for people of compassion to surround them and comfort them in the hard days to come.
by jphilo | Oct 27, 2008 | Current Events
This past week had more rainy days than sunny ones. In fact, from Wednesday through Friday, a look out the window was gloomy, grey and wet. Saturday the sun returned and cheered things up. Yesterday the wind in our neck of the woods was fierce and blew in a cold front, complete with cloudy skies, so we’re gloomy again.
Anne was home for the weekend. She brought two friends from college, and the weekend was a whirlwind of activity. I tried to have food ready whenever they blew in, which was no small feat since their plans changed by the hour. But from the looks of our empty refrigerator, I was fairly successful. They took off last night around 6:00, after the wind died down a little. No phone call to tell me she’s safely home, but no call from the Highway Patrol saying she isn’t, so they must have made it back okay.
The gloomy weather is a carbon copy of last week, and this Monday’s picture of our gravel road shows the damage the wind did to our fall foilage. If you look through the bare branches near the center, you can see our house peaking through – a sure sign of cold weather to come.
Normally I would moan and groan about these signs of approaching winter, but not this week. A few days ago, something happened that changed my attitude. A friend of our family, only fifty years old, was diagnosed with advanced liver and lung cancer after a lifetime of clean living. They’ve been married twenty-five years and have two teenaged sons. During the first three years of our daughter’s life, his wife came to our house and provided day care for Allen and Annie. For many years, we worshipped at the same church. I was their oldest son’s fourth grade teacher several years later. Two years ago, Hiram donated a kidney to his brother-in-law, and they send a card every September to thank him.
He started chemo last week, and we thought we’d let the hub-bub die down a bit before we go to visit them. But their family is constantly in my thoughts and prayers. When I bundled up for my walk this morning and saw more leaves on the ground than on the trees, all I could think of was how much they want to be together next fall on a cold, windy day that whips the leaves from the trees, together for another Thanksgiving, another Christmas, another New Year.
I can’t complain about the loss of warm weather when they may soon lose so much. This year, I look forward to the coming winter and pray for many more to come.
by jphilo | Oct 15, 2008 | Book Updates
Today I’m pleased to introduce you to Nic. The two of us spent a year in fourth grade together. He was a student. I was the teacher. Nic’s a 9th grader this year, with a drivers’ permit and an old VW Beetle he’s fixing up with his dad.
Nic’s a kid with a grin on his face most of the time. When he was in fourth grade, his grin was biggest the day he came in and said his annual check up revealed no sign of the cancer he’d overcome when he was a toddler.
Nic was in middle school when the cancer returned in his thigh bone. But a year later when he agreed to be interviewed for my book, he was grinning like always. The pictures posted on his CaringBridge page, show he’s still smiling.
His battle with cancer continues, and his story is pretty amazing. I encourage you to visit CaringBridge and read about him and his family. His grin will have you smiling in no time.
But don’t get any ideas about riding in his refurbished VW before I do. I’ve already called shotgun for a spin around town right after his family members have their turns. There are certain perks teenagers give to their fourth grade teachers. I plan to take advantage of all of them.
