My mom

I really wish I could paint a picture to illustrate what I am feeling right now.  There is obviously a lot of pain and grief that my family is feeling right now.  But knowing that I do not want to focus on the grief – not right now.  Rather, I want to focus on my mom and how she impacted those around her.  To try and show you what mom’s life meant to me, and so many others along her life’s path.  Not a single word can explain who she was, or how she impacted any one person, but the series of words that come immediately to mind include – unparalleled love, compassionate, faithful –both to us and to God, jolly and humorous, full of life, wife, mom, sister, and grandma. These words are just the beginning, and as I think about it there really is no end.

Over the past few days I have been thinking through mom’s life and how she touched so many of us.  I have tried to put into words the impact mom had on my life, and each time I tried I realized that I just couldn’t.  Words continued to fail me.  She was more than a series of words to me – mere words just couldn’t capture her life fully enough.  Mere words just couldn’t capture her love fully enough.  Mere words just couldn’t capture our love for her fully enough.

No – words are not adequate enough to illustrate the feelings I have for her.  There are so many memories that continue to flood through my mind and heart.  Memories ranging from the compassion she had for others, the love she offered that was never ending, the example she set daily with regard to our family and life in general, her ability to touch each life she ran into and offer them a unique touch or caring word, the faithfulness in how she lead her life, the humbleness in how she carried herself – these memories, these “feelings” if you will, are just the beginning of what she meant to me.  These memories, these examples of how to live life, are what helped shaped my life.

So with that said, I wanted to relay this one story.

As I was driving up to the country after hearing about mom passing away, my senses were in complete overdrive.  I was seeing everything.  Pulling it all in –wanting to remember everything.  I wanted to remember the tons of flowers that lined the highway as I raced to see dad, the splendid red sunset that we were blessed with off to the west, the near total darkness – laced with fog – that took over a piece of the drive, to the ultra bright moon that appeared to light the country side the rest of the way. 

Each of these pieces of the drive reminded me of mom and her life.  The beautiful flowers that lined the highway illustrated how she brightened up our lives for so many years.  The splendid red sunset illustrated the way she ended her life with God quietly calling out her name.  The total darkness illustrated how I felt immediately after hearing “Mom didn’t make it.” And finally the ultra bright moon illustrated that her memories I carry with me daily are still as bright today as they were yesterday.

Also, to me the drive up to the country was a nice illustration of her path through life.  The path was straight at times, curvy at others, there were hills and valleys, fast spots and slow spots.  But the constant that was there was mom’s compassion and love for her family and friends – the colorful flowers, if you will, that she planted along the way to make our lives more bearable.  All of us flourished just because she touched our lives with her sense of humor, and her wit.  All of us flourished because she showered us with her love and affection.  Whether that person called her honey, mom, grandma or Virginia, she cared for each of us in a unique way.  Looking back at her life, I realize now that her heart was larger than any of us knew.  Each of us felt special.  Each of us felt loved.

When God made a final appearance in her life and asked for her to join Him, she exited this life much like the splendid sunset I saw.  So stunning.  So beautiful.  Holding on.  The wit and humor that we saw each day continued to tease the landscape until the very end.   Wanting to shed her light for just a few more minutes.  Slowly exiting.  She exited this world surrounded by loving hands to another set of expecting, and loving hands – God.

Mom was a woman who touched the lives of so many, yet in a lot of ways she did it quietly. She did it personally.  She did it without thought.  She did it only with the love in her heart.  There are so many people who will miss her passionate love, her motherly love, and her Christ like walk.

These past few days have afforded me the opportunity to reminisce and hear about all the ways that mom has touched those around her – her own little world if you may.  I know that on Sunday evening, when she stood in front of God, He looked at her with His tender eyes and said, “Well done, good and faithful servant.  Well done.”  and He took His big carpenter arms and threw them around her and said welcome home. 

Mom, we will miss you dearly.

Now this is powerful

Well worth watching…

more about "Now this is powerful", posted with vodpod

Cancer and a bike ride

I just wanted to take a moment to let you know how my ride in the Sunflowers to Roses Bike Tour went this past Sunday.  Wow what a day in terms of weather, and actual number of riders.  Last year – calm winds, sunny skies, and temperatures starting out around 65.  This year I think we were thrust right into monsoon season.  Gusting winds and hard driving rain welcomed us Sunday morning. 

For me, this was my 4^th year riding in the Sunflowers to Roses Bike Tour – four very memorable rides.  Once again I was humbled to be amongst some amazing individuals – some who are cancer survivors riding in celebration of life, and others who road along in silence thinking through what cancer has meant to them and their family.   

In years past I have outlined the impact that this ride has had on me.  This year will be no different. 

This year I fell into both of the categories listed above – celebrating my dad’s successful cancer treatment (it has been just over a year since his treatments ended), but also riding in silence at times thinking about my aunt and the impact her life, and ultimate passing, had on my family.   So with that, following is my story of the 2009 Sunflowers to Roses ride.

As I said, the day did not start the way any of us had planned.  Rain was being dumped on us by the bucket load, and it was blowing sideways just to make it a little more interesting.  At the start, we had limited access to shelter, but in spite of that there were still riders who came out to ride.  There were still riders who came that morning to register – imagine that – coming out in a RAIN STORM and registering to ride in a charity bike ride.  250 or so of the over 500 registered riders made it there.  250 or so officially kicked off the 2009 ride.  250 riders all thinking about what this ride meant to them.  All thinking about what this meant to their family and friends. 

There was only one thing, this year verses any other year, that kept running through my mind – this day reminded me of my dad’s cancer treatment and the milestones that were made throughout his treatment.  By that I mean we started out in a rain strong (i.e., hearing dad had cancer).  The only way I can truly explain this is to say that, for the first part of the ride, the rain was pelting us the whole way.  Not just a friendly drizzle – no a sideways, pounding rain storm.  Black clouds swirling kinda stuff.  For those of you who have lived through a loved one being diagnosed with cancer I am sure you can understand this connection.  To me – this was like hearing about Dad’s cancer and the tears that flowed.  Being pelted by the unrelenting rain – storm clouds constantly brewing.  The rain teasing us, and then pounding us.  Teasing then pounding.  Emotions all over the place.

I am not sure how long this period of the ride lasted, but on my return trip, I started to see a break in the rain.  Sure I was sopping wet.  Sure I was miserable.  But the storm was letting up.  The unrelenting rain had relented.  For me – this was like the end of dad’s treatment.  He was miserable, but still moving toward a goal.  Still moving toward the conclusion of this ride.  We were still miles out, but moving forward at an ever increasing clip, with an end finally in sight.

And at the end of the ride, and I am not making this up, the sun broke out of the clouds for a moment.  When I turned toward the group of cheering supporters the sun hit me and the other riders I was riding with head on.  The celebration began for each of us at this moment.  We finished a miserable ride, but ended with a celebration in the sun.  The feeling here was so much like how I felt after the doctor told my dad, “Everything looks good – I will see you in 3 months.”  The sun that appeared in our life arrived at the right time to wash away a little of that misery.  Our tears could finally dry up.

So with that short story in mind, I wanted to let each of you know who I rode for.  There are so many things to say, but for me the names below say it all.  I rode for the families of those listed below, and more importantly I rode for the following loved ones…

I rode in celebration of: My dad – Robert Johnson, Mary Ann Beck, Weston Funk, Norma Monday, Danny Spain, Anand Gupta, Ramesh Sinha, all of the breast cancer survivors, and all cancer victims and their families.

I rode in memory of: My Aunt Venesa, Grandpa Rich, Sam Weeks, David Taylor, Jean Morsbach, Roy Stice, Claude Sevart, & Robin Redman, Caroline, William, and Raymond Yep, Gilbert Lee, Herman Spain, and as a friend said, “all of my family members who have died from cancer and are too numerous to name.”

Thank you once again for taking the time to read this, and for allowing me to ride for so many of you.  Thank you for allowing me to ride in memory/in celebration of your loved ones.

Done for a bit

I am taking a break from my blogging world for a little while… maybe a long while.  This blog has served me well in terms of an outpouring of my love for Christ, my struggles with my faith, my struggles with my dad’s cancer, my mom’s health.  The list can go on and on, but in the end I know that God saw me through each and every challenge I faced.  I struggled at times (many times), but in the end I found that if I turned all of my problems completed over to Him, things went a little smoother.  Completely is the key, and something I am challenged with on a regular basis. 

I love to write, so who knows how long it will be before I return.  I will still visit other blogs and read your insightful post – so I will not be gone, but not active here.

Take care.

it hit me today – well maybe awhile ago – Christ died for our sins

I wonder if every Christian truly understands what it means to say that Christ died for our sins.  I really do wonder that – especially in today’s world.  I mean do we really understand what sin is?  Do we really understand what the impact of sin is? 

I am not sure where this is coming from, but it has been on my mind lately.  Lately I have been feeling like there is a tendency to feel priviledge and not broken.  That we understand basically what Christ did for us, but in a way similiar to when our parents go out of their way to help us growing up – providing for us, etc. – basically that it was expected. 

I really don’t want to feel that way.  It should not be expected… it should be more than that to me.  I think it is, but then again… is it?

Prayers … prayers… prayers….

Take care my friends.

Time Away

I am taking a little bit of time away from bloggin in order to recharge and pray.  Please pray with me as I start this journey.  Take care.