by jphilo | Nov 18, 2013 | Family
I’ve never been one of those people with a direct line to God’s voice. I spend most of the time begging him to speak in a without-a-doubt-God-is-speaking voice and waiting for it to happen.
It rarely does.
But this weekend, God spoke loud and clear through, of all things, a song in a hotel lobby. Mom, my brother, and I were checking in the evening before Aunt Lois‘s funeral, and one of my favorite songs was playing.
Matt Redmann’s Blessed Be the Name of the Lord.
I didn’t think much of it at the time. My mind was focused on conversations shared with Lois’s son and daughter. Their descriptions of last visits with their mother and how unexpected they felt her death to be since the doctor had pronounced her heart strong enough to make it to 100. Their stories of how their mother chose to use lessons learned through her losses to minister to hurting friends and family.
Their stories of her faith and faithfulness.
I didn’t think of the song from the hotel lobby again until the end of yesterday’s church service. A service spent rembering Aunt Lois, praying for her children and grandchildren, thinking about her two remaining siblings, Mom and Aunt Donna, wondering what it is like for them to be the last living children from a tightly knit group of eight. I was reaching for another tissue when the worship band played the chords of the last song in the service.
Can you guess what it was?
Yup. It was Blessed Be Your Name. I sorta sang along. But it was hard, what with the lump in my throat and wanting to plug my ears because God was speaking so loud it hurt enough to make me laugh and cry and laugh all at once. Until I ran out of tissues and wished I’d picked up the extra funeral home packets off the pew at the funeral, knowing such frugality would please Aunt Lois and her living siblings to no end. World without end. Amen and amen. While God spoke the life of Lois through the words of this song.
Blessed Be Your Name
Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
Blessed Be Your name
When I’m found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I’ll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be Your name
When the sun’s shining down on me
When the world’s ‘all as it should be’
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there’s pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I’ll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
 Photo Source
by jphilo | Nov 15, 2013 | Family
The call came last week. Lois Benson, Mom’s oldest sister, had died. She’d been failing for several months, so the news wasn’t unexpected. But it was unwanted by those of us left behind. But I suspect, as do others who loved her, that Lois was not sad to go. Not after enduring cruel losses in her immediate family.
The loss of her son Gary shortly after his high school graduation.
The loss of her son, Vernie, who was a young husband and the father of 3 little girls.
The loss of her husband Ivar in the 1990s.
The loss of her great-grandson Spencer a few years ago.
Gary died when I was five, and her sad smile laces my early memories of this dear woman. Her smile grew achingly, heart wrenchingly sad seven years later when Vernie died. But this is what I will always remember about Aunt Lois: though the smiles grew more fleeting and rare with each loss, she never stopped smiling.
When she talked about her faith, she smiled hopefully.
When she talked about her hobbies, handiwork and baking (if you never tasted one of Aunt Lois’s pies or traditional Norwegian baked treats, you are to be pitied), her smile was animated and bright.
When she talked about the accomplishments of her living children and her grandchildren, she positively beamed.
Today, as our family gathers together to say good-bye to Lois Benson, we will all be hoping and imagining the reunion:
Aunt Lois smiling without a hint of sadness.
Rejoicing to see Gary, Vernie, Ivar, and Spencer once again.
Her Savior leaning down to wipe her tears away.
Her faith fulfilled. Her hope secured.
Oh, Aunt Lois, we will miss you. But knowing you are home again makes us smile…but sadly.
And He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away.
Revelation 21: 4
by jphilo | Nov 1, 2013 | Current Events, Family
Bragging about the rellies is so passe`, don’t you think? Makes the old eyes roll when somebody gets going, right?
I agree.
Even so, today I’m bragging about one of my rellies, Ashley Molzen. She was mentioned Tuesday in the Young Professionals section of the Des Moines Register. Not just a little mention. An above the feature with pictures, quotes, and a story so long it had to be finished on one of the inside pages.
Why so much coverage?
Because Ashley, who is the daughter of a cousin who was a bridesmaid in our wedding, is also the librarian at the Forest Avenue branch of the Des Moines Public Library system. And in that capacity, she’s developed an innovative program called Conversations and Coffee. The program helps refugee and English-learning populations in Des Moines improve their conversational skills in their new language.
That’s pretty cool.
But don’t take my word for it. Read the article for yourself at Leading the Conversation. Be sure to read to the end where my cousin and Ashley’s aunty, Julie Roy, is quoted, too. Even though you didn’t know Ashley as a little girl, like her busting-their-buttons-with-pride family did, her story will restore your faith in the younger generation and keep your eyes from rolling when we brag about her.
Ashley Molzen, you rock!
Photo Source
by jphilo | Oct 11, 2013 | Family
The Oktoberfest version of Camp Dorothy is underway. Hopefully, the autumn weather means these two hot babes won’t sweat quite as much as they did in August. Besides, with so many onsite activities on the docket, we won’t need to go out on the town.
So what activities are planned…other than The Price is Right, Judge Judy, and Wheel of Fortune? I’m so glad you asked! Here’s a quick run down:
- Uno and Skippo tournies.
- Plenty of naps for the camps namesake, all taken under an afghan made by her mother.
- A drive through the Ledges to enjoy the fall colors.
- The last BLTs made with the last summer tomato.
- A bean soup eat-athon, followed shortly by a musical tootfest.
- A Harding County History, Volume 2* book read-athon.**
A few obvious things are missing from the Camp Dorothy version of Oktoberfest, namely beer, beer steins, and lederhosen. The first two because Dorothy’s deep German roots have always prospered best in a dry climate, and we don’t want to upset that applecart at this late date. The final item because lederhosen look pretty silly on grown-ups and we don’t want to give PETA a reason to picket on our gravel road.
So, what’s the camp director’s contingency plan if we run out of things to do before Oktoberfest ends on Saturday evening? I’m glad you asked. Since this is Homecoming weekend in our fair city, we just might join the younger crowd and tee-pee a few houses. Now if you’ll excuse the camp director, she needs to run to the grocery store to stock up on paper products.
Auf wiedersehen!
*The camp namesake had to begin with Volume 2 because the camp director is hogging Volume 1. But since the volumes are arranged alphabetically rather than chronologically, collateral damage is minimal.
**This began the minute Dorothy sat down in the living room. She’s loving the homesteading stories and read right through The Price Is Right.
by jphilo | Sep 6, 2013 | Family
Many, many thanks to everyone who sent Mom a card for her 85th birthday. The card shower was a stunning success with mail coming from all over the country and from every era of her adult life. For example…
- Many of her nieces and nephews (a large group as Mom’s side of the family is a prolific bunch) sent cards.
- Several of Dad’s cousins (he was an only child, so no nieces and nephews there) and their children also sent birthday greetings.
- So did friends and neighbors for her many years in LeMars,
- and her eleven years in Boone.
- Most touching of all were the many, many cards from students from her first year of teaching sixth grade in Roland, Iowa in the late 1940s. Not only did her former students send cards, they recalled anecdotes and described their lives since then.
How do I know what was in them? Because Mom felt it necessary to spread the love by requiring my presence as she opened each piece of mail. Once she read then, she passed them on and expected a comment about each one.
Which I did.
Because I’m such a good daughter. And because the sooner she was finished with the cards, the sooner we could dig into the homemade German’s Chocolate birthday cake (dairy-free version) made for the occasion.
Unfortunately, the cake’s all gone or I’d offer you a piece.
But the cards are in a neat stack for Mom to peruse whenever the mood strikes her. Your cards were truly a gift that keeps on giving. Again, many, many thanks for participating.
by jphilo | Aug 19, 2013 | Family
Camp Dorothy’s namesake has a birthday coming up.
She’ll be a wee bit older than in the picture above which was taken in 1929, some months after her birth on September 3. Which happened to be Labor Day in 1928 when Dorothea Lorraine Hess made her debut appearance at the Pipestone County Hospital.
This September 3, 2013 Dorothy will turn 85.
So the Bro, Sis, and I are organizing a card shower in honor of the occasion. Though Mom’s not much of a letter writer anymore, she still loves to get cards. She reads them over and over, until she squirrels them away in stacks, where they wait for me to find them months later and discard.
But I digress.
Here’s the big question. Would you help make Dorothy’s 85th birthday extra-special by participating in the card shower? If you need Mom’s address, please leave a comment, and I’ll send it to you in an email. And I’ll do a post after the big day to let you know how the shower went and what Dorothy had to say about it.
Right after we watch Judge Judy, of course.
