Sorry for the long silence. No time to explain. Urgent prayer request: Please Pray for Samantha. More later, KimJ.

Quote of the century:

"I'm living the life I'd be wishing I was living, if I wasn't living it." - Katie, age 12, right before leaving for Holland to participate in the Youth Friendship Games.

GO, KATIE, GO!!

Lest you think there is nothing but heartache in this house, let me begin by saying this has been a glorious month of Proms, Soccer and Lacrosse Tournaments, sunny days, good surf, bike rides along the beach, barbeques and meals outside. Today we sailed out of San Diego Harbor on our friends' 32' sailboat. We anchored near a hidden cove and my children jumped from the bow to swim to shore. We lingered long enough to eat lunch and soak in some sun. The sun was out, but the wind was steady. It was, as several have been this month, a perfect day. In two short weeks, school will be out for summer. Life is good.

In the midst of this enchanted time, my mom's sister lost her short battle with cancer. She left us on June 1, and she was not ready to go. She was an extremely youthful 76 years young. She took incredible care of herself - healthy diet, annual doctor visits, daily excercise. She looked great, and hadn't seemed to age at all for at least 20 years. Out of absolutely nowhere, she suffered what we thought was a stroke. Further diagnosis indicated cancer in the liver, and in 6 weeks time from diagnosis - she is gone. Unlike the other family members who have left us this year, Ginny didn't want to go.

The very night before she died, I nearly posted a prayer request. I regret today that I didn't. I procrastinated, and now she's gone. Earlier that week she charged my cousin with the job of keeping her alive. "Don't let me die," she whispered in his ear. It broke his heart, and mine when I heard of it. That night I prayed for her to have peace, for God to meet her where she was at, to comfort her, to give her a glimse of heaven. I have a modicum of faith that God answered my prayer that night --perhaps Ginny saw the glimpse of heaven I had hoped for her. Perhaps this made it easier for her to go. She knows the answers to all of these questions now. I can only guess, and hope. I ask you to pray for my cousin, who today knows that he was unable to grant his dying mother's wish. Pray for him to find faith in all of this -- to see the very glimpse of heaven I had hoped for his mother. Pray for him to have peace, for God to meet him where he is at, to comfort him. Pray for him to come face to face with Jesus.

Today, as the wind filled the sails and the boat rose and fell in the manner of the sea, I felt an incredible peace -- the peace that passes all understanding. I allowed all of my senses to experience the moment - the wind, the sun, the undulation of the waves, the salty smell of the sea -- and I knew in my soul that this moment, that every moment, is a gift. I love this place, this planet earth. I love the smell of the ocean, the feeling of the sun on my skin, the sound of the voices of my children, my husband, people I love engaged in conversation. I know that no matter how many days I will have of this, it will not be enough. I will wish I had more. I try to etch it all into my soul. And as I record this moment, this peaceful moment, I can remember another moment long ago, when I am surrounded by the sounds of laughter and voices of those who have gone from this place on to the next. I can almost see myself, a tiny child, and hear the laughter of my cousins and I as we played under the watchful eyes of our young parents.

Perhaps that laughter still lives on the wind, echoing in the sails.

When my son turned 3, we bought him his first 2 wheeled bicycle with training wheels – a “big boy bike” as he liked to call it. He rode up and down the cul-de-sac, irritated by the training wheels which seemed to slow him down a bit. My husband removed them – and in that way that is made famous by all parents teaching a child to ride a bike, he held the back of the bike and ran alongside, faster and faster until he let go and my son took off.

For a moment we were giddy, my father-in-law and I, watching from the front of my home as my used-to-be-a-toddler sped away from his dad. “Look at him go!” I said out loud, “That’s amazing – he’s only 3!” Then a more serious tone, “Oh my God, he’s only 3!” “Too young to be speeding around the neighborhood on a bicycle,” I thought. By the time my husband caught up to the little cyclist and turned him around, my joy had turned to angst as I considered how much harder it had just become to contain that little boy. Suddenly there was a host of new dangers to review and new boundaries to set.

My husband, sensing the sheer terror in my face, assured me that he would keep the bicycle out of reach and that such outings would be under the strictest supervision. My father-in-law laughed. (He’s probably still laughing). Perhaps he knew from parenting 2 boys of his own that containment was out of the question. Soon the bicycle was joined by roller blades, skateboards, razor scooters, motor scooters -- you name it. If it had wheels, he was riding it. Add to the list surfboards, boogie boards, kayaks, snowboard -- the bicycle was just the tip of the iceberg.

My son is always in motion, has always been in motion, for as long as I can remember. Perhaps that bicycle memory simply marks the moment I actually became aware of what that might mean for me one day. Perhaps I am living that "one day" today. As of Friday, my son is officially a licensed driver, no longer on a permit. He is a driver, driving a car (a pick up truck to be exact). He drove himself to school this morning and home this afternoon. As silly as this sounds, each time he drives somewhere it feels as if he's driving a little further away from me.

Where has the time gone? Once again there is a host of new dangers to review and new boundaries to set – but he is no longer a little boy who needs me to protect him from the real dangers of the world. He is at a point where he is more than ready to face those dangers without me. His need for me is waning, but mine for him remains the same. Perhaps this is the ageless plight of all parents. We’ve spent his lifetime holding on for dear life, only to come to a place where it takes every strength we have just to loosen the grip.

++Thank you Lord for the incredible gift you have given me in my son. I delight in him. Protect him as he ventures further away from this nest. Watch over him as he drives, wherever he drives. Make him a safe and conscientious driver. Protect him and his car from other drivers. Speak faith to me and remind me that you have good plans for him – I admit it is so very difficult to let him go. It is very difficult to entrust him even to You. Breath on him, breath of God. May he feel your presence wherever he goes. May he put his trust in You. May he be everything You have created him to be. Help me as I loosen my grip. Help me to be the wind beneath his wings.

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:20

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you." Deuteronomy 31:6

It’s difficult to know what to say after such a long silence. I can’t really catch you up on all that has passed. Life has barreled on, the ups and the downs not subsiding. At one point I knew I didn’t want my journal to read like a continuous obituary – so I stopped writing. I will tell you we have had at least one funeral per month since my last post. All the deaths have been a great loss to many, although most were not a great surprise. I suppose at my age, this is not unusual. One more aunt hangs in the balance between life and death tonight, and if she leaves us in May she will continue the pattern.

I don’t mean to sound morose really. Death is a completely natural part of life. The people we have lost have all lived long, full and honorable lives. They were sure of their future in heaven and were ready to go. We just really didn’t expect them all to go at once.

The most recent funeral took place in Iowa. My husband’s grandmother was 90 years old. She had buried her parents, her husband, all of her 6 siblings and 2 of her 3 children, her only son just this last November in Arkansas. Every time she’d say goodbye, whether by phone or in person, she’d assure us she’d see us again soon, “If I’m not here the next time you come by, I’ll see you when you get to heaven.” She died on her way to my mother-in-law’s car. She had a bad case of indigestion and was off to see the doctor. She was completely healthy, remarkably so for a woman her age. She gasped a little, according to her daughter, and was gone before she hit the ground. She was caught up in a moment.

Perhaps she was like a pregnant woman who didn’t recognize the labor pains.

She, like my grandfather, looked unbelievably beautiful in her coffin. She had (get this) 12 grandchildren, 30-something great grandchildren and nearly 10 great-great grandchildren. I think every one of them was there. Her funeral was held on Good Friday. We celebrated Easter in Iowa, and what an incredible celebration it was.

Thank you for your continued prayers and support. The pillars of my world have been exiting at a frightening pace. They are each of them the best of the best. They are irreplaceable.

Sometimes I wonder if this is what the rapture looks like. I am, to date, left behind.

A prisoner of her own body for over 25 years, my father's dear cousin Kathy was set free this week. She had resided in what had remained of her body, wracked with Multiple Sclerosis, suffering in silence and isolation.

I have a vivid memory of her, young and beautiful, commenting on her lovely children, "I prayed that my children would be healthy. I didn't care if they were beautiful -- yet God made them healthy AND beautiful. What a wonderful God we serve."

I remember this moment often. She seems angelic in my memory, radient. Her own health was already waning, she knew of her disease. Her husband eventually would leave her in her ailing state with her 2 beautiful children. Her son shortly followed him. Her daughter was left to care for her, never wanting to leave her side, calling the ambulance when her mother would collapse from time to time. She was only 12. Eventually the authorities had to remove the child from the home (she was relocated to the home of her aunt) and shortly thereafter had to remove Kathy to a nursing home where her health gradually declined unto her death.

She suffered for more than 25 years. For most of that time all of the thoughts she had, all of the revelations she may have experienced, all of the visions she may have had -- all remained within her. I wonder if she prayed? I wonder if she felt lonely or abandoned? I wonder how many more are out there like her?

Kathy was laid to rest today. She is the first of her generation to go home to heaven. She's a walkin' talkin' girl now -- and I'll bet she's just beautiful.

++Lord, watch over Kathy's mother, her brothers, and her children, her cousins. They have lived with this grief for many years. Help them to heal.

"I have told you these things so that in Me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33

Many of you already know that my daughter will be playing soccer in Holland this summer. We have never been to Holland. We have never been even remotely curious about going to Holland. Now we are completely interested in Holland -- where to stay, what to see, who comes from there, who still lives there, what's in the news there, what is the weather like, etc, etc. Lately, as these things tend to happen, we have found ourselves inundated with information and connections to broaden our perspective and learn about this beautiful place (sort of like when you become pregnant, you suddenly notice all the other pregnant women all around you...). Even in Blogville, stories of Holland are abounding. First, I met Corry, a wonderful blogger originally from Holland. Just recently, have come across Dooce who is entertaining me with news of her vacation in Holland. (Start here, and work your way to the current date -- a fun read!) Funnier still is her husband Jon's simultaneous perspective of the same trip (start here). Hopefully by the time we go, I'll actually have a working knowledge of this place! Of course, I intend to share....

++Lord thank you for hooking us up with what we need, when we need it. You rock!