One Person at a Time...

Herbert and Doris

Tuesday was Herbert and Doris Baumann's wedding anniversary.  Nancy called to wish them a Happy Anniversary and to see how they're doing.  Herbert's 92 now, and Doris isn't too far behind, nevertheless, Nancy was surprised to hear that Herbert had experienced an "episode" about six weeks ago and wasn't able to speak.  When Nancy came and told me about her conversation, we were both upset.  They live in Cincinnati, so we couldn't just drop everything and go see them, right?  Right?  After all, it's nearly a six hour drive, and we have our schedules.  About half an hour later Nancy came to me again and asked, "Do you think we should go see them?"  We both knew the answer to that question.  Arrangements were made for Emmy to stay with a friend on Wednesday night, and we headed off to Cincinnati on Wednesday afternoon.  We INVESTED the morning with Herbert and Doris on Thursday and found to our surprise--and joy--that Herbert CAN speak. He just can't always get what he wants to say out.  Probably a mild case of aphasia, resulting from his "episode."  Herbert and Doris were amazed that we would come just to see them.  [Some of you who think of me as only concerned about "young" people, might be amazed by that, too.] Actually, Herbert and Doris are really special to us.  They took us "under their wings" when we first started into the ministry.  We spent many hours at their home, and Herbert often talks about the time he and I painted their house roof (It's a steel roof that's painted bright red!).  That's now a couple of decades ago, but it's one of those memories that gets better with age.

On the way home Thursday afternoon, Nancy and I realized that you never regret the time you "took" to be with people you love.  You only regret NOT taking the time.  We also had the added blessings of getting to visit Nancy's Uncle Dave and seeing his new home; being WITH each other for about 12 hours as we drove to and from Cincinnati--which gave us the time to reconnect with each other, and to ponder what really IS important in life; and an unexpected phone call from Abby as we drove, which since there was no schedule to keep, was more leisurely and informative than sometimes.  Do you have any "Herbert and Doris" people in your lives?  When was the last time you visited them?  If it's been a while pick up the phone or even jump in the car and go INVEST some time with them.  The dividends are guaranteed!

Remembering Dad

February 13 is my Dad's birthday.  It is his 87th.  He has spent the last twelve of them in heaven.  He lived all but two of his 75 years here on earth as a non-believer.  I don't have a lot of great memories of my dad. He was what Robert Lewis calls and "absent" dad, in his Men's Fraternity materials.  This Saturday, the title of the session of the Men's Fraternity I'm attending is "Remembering Dad."  Lewis tells us that in 1960, 82.5% of American children lived in families where the biological father was "present."  In 2,000 that number was 60%.  That means then, and more so now, many of us grew up or are growing up with "absent" dads.  My Dad was actually part of the biological family, but because of his work was absent most of the time.  When he was home, he didn't do that much with us.  While many of my memories of Dad are hard, the last years of my Dad's life, left me with many good memories, particularly good memories of him interacting with our daughters.  One of the things I've realized about Dad is that while I would change many things about my time of growing up with him (or mostly without him), he did the best he could as a dad.  His dad hadn't been there for him (biologically present, but absent due to work), and his dad's dad was an ornery cuss, by the accounts I've heard.  The absence of Jesus in his life for most of his life, also left him without the spiritual Father who could have made so much difference.  Thankfully, that turned around, and my daughters have only fond memories of "Papa Clyde."  On this day, I honor my Dad for being a man of integrity, a man who was always as good as his word, who worked hard, and taught us to give an honest day's work for an honest day's pay.  I honor him because he finally submitted his will to God's will near the end of his life, realizing that he couldn't ultimately make it on his own. 

I thank God today, for being the Heavenly Father I could depend on when my earthly dad was either absent or not being the dad I needed, and for providing the kind of role model that is worthy of following 24/7.  I thank Him, too, for providing Clyde Marshall to be my earthly dad.  With all his short-coming's he loved us, and provided for us the best he could, and that's a blessing many folks never have the opportunity to know.  Happy Birthday, Dad! 

Wrong Day...Right Memory

I wrote a post yesterday remembering my Mom, who I said had died 18 years ago on the 28th of January (Yesterday).  As I reflected on that throughout the day, I realized that she died on the 30th of January.  How could I get that wrong?  I remember it as vividly as if it just happened.  It was the last Tuesday in January.  I checked the calendar all the way back to 1990, and sure enough the last Tuesday in January of 1990 was the 30th.  The points I made are all just as valid.  That I was two days off just shows that human beings are prone to error!  I think about her at one point or another most days.  Something one of our daughters does reminds me of her, or makes me wish she could see them.  Or I just want to ask for her opinion.  Or I'd like to have some of the nut rolls she used to make.  I don't obsess over her.  I just think of her.  Paul told the Philippian Christians that every time he thought of them, he thanked God for them (See Philippians 1:3)  In the same way, when I think of Mom, I thank God for her, and I count the blessing of being her son.  I live in the present, have great hope for the future, and give thanks for much that happened in the past, and sometimes for the truth that the past is OVER, and Jesus has paid the price for any sins I committed then.  I'm so glad for memories, even painful ones, (even ones that are off a couple of days!) because they show me how much God has done, and how far He has brought me from where I began.

Remembering Mom...

Eighteen years ago today, I received a phone call from my Dad that changed everything.  He told me that my Mom had suffered a stroke and "...it doesn't look good."  I was in a meeting at the church, actually the last staff meeting before I moved back to PA to serve my first time as a "senior pastor."  I drove home to tell Nancy that I was driving to PA to see my mother.  Abby was only 8 months old.  Nancy told me to wait for them to get ready.  I said I couldn't wait.  The phone rang.  My Dad said, "No sense hurrying.  Your mother is gone."  Gone.  Dead.  The words eventually describe each of us--unless Jesus comes--but how could they describe my Mom?  She was so alive, so vibrant.  How could she be dead at 67?  But she was.  Grief mixed with anger.  Why would God do this?  How could He take my mother away, just when we were moving back to PA?  For nine years we had lived a six hour drive from "home."  Now we were to be about two.  Where was the justice in this?

Eighteen years later, questions remain.  The timing still stinks as far as I'm concerned.  My Mom who so wanted grandDAUGHTERS, having grown up with only brothers, having reared only sons, now has four granddaughters, and three great grandaughters, and she only saw one of them.  But eighteen years has helped me realize that for Mom the blessing of being in God's presence, of receiving the reward that comes to all "good and faithful servants" of Jesus, is more important than my comfort or sense of fairness.  Mom taught me to trust Jesus.  She showed me the unconditional love of Jesus.  She served God and others faithfully and nearly always joyfully.  She passed on a godly heritage.  I still wonder "why" sometimes.  Why didn't she get to be here to love and influence our daughters, and the rest of her long-awaited granddaughters and great granddaughters?  Then I realize--she DID.  In her influence on me, and my influence on them. That's the way it works in the family of God.  The blessings of godly parents are visited on their children and grandchildren.  That's no less true in our family, even though Grandma Ruth didn't get to be around long personally or at all for them.  Now, it's up to us--to her children to pass on the faith we saw in her, to the next generations.  Paul pointed that out to Timothy.  Timothy's faith "originated" in his grandmother, came "through" his mother and then to him.  Of course Timothy had to claim it for himself, but what a blessing to have the heritage!  Our daughters have claimed the heritage and are living its blessings even now.  Thanks, Grandma Ruth!  Thanks, Mom, for being a godly woman!

Sorry, for No Snoopy's Christmas!

Hi Everyone,

Thanks to Pat for letting me know that my link for Snoopy's Christmas was incorrect.  Unfortunately, I can't get it to work, so maybe NEXT year!

Merry Christmas-- Snoopy Style!

Merry Christmas Everyone!

I came across the following youtube version of my favority secular Christmas song: Snoopy's Christmas by the Royal Guardsmen. I hope you enjoy it! Unfortunately, I can't embed it in my blog you'll have to go to the link below:
Snoopy's Christmas

Happy Birthday Cheryl!

Today is Cheryl Marshall's 66th birthday!  Cheryl's my brother Tom's wife.  Cheryl was sort of a "big sister" to me when I was growing up.  I spent a number of summers at their home in Dover, Ohio from the time I was eight until I was old enough that I needed to stay home for baseball and football!  It's funny the things you remember about the "good old days" as you get older.   I remember Cheryl and I watching Jeopardy together--when it used to be on during the day.   I remember the house on Crater Avenue that had an apple tree with four different kinds of apples.  I remember Mr. Geiser, Cheryl's dad, who was a master cabinet maker, who had come to the U.S. from Switzerland as a young man, and whose woodworking projects, especially his handmade wooden toys were incredible.  I remember going to their home in the fall each year for the "Swiss Festival" in Sugarcreek, and helping to make apple fritters with their church.  One of God's blessings is memory.  Even when events have long since past, we can enjoy them again as we revisit them in our memories

Cheryl and Tom, and their daughter, Lee and granddaughter, Ellie, were in town over the weekend to celebrate Abby's graduation, along with my other two brothers, Jim and Kenn.  It was the first time the four brothers had been together in eleven years, and it was good to enjoy that time of family together. 

Cheryl, I pray you'll have a great day, and many happy memories and returns!

All Grown Up...

Last night was "prom night."  It was Abby's first, even though she's a senior.  She never wanted to go before.  This year is her LAST year in high school, so she wanted to go.  When she came home from taking her AP European History placement test at 3:20 and was scheduled for pictures at 3:45, she wore a look that said, "I'm frazzled."  Yet, when asked if she needed any help, she shook her head and said, "Just let me do it."  Abby has always been independent--in a good way.  She takes initiative in every area of her life--except making her bed!  As she walked through the house with her hair, which had been done that morning in a sophisticated style, bobbing gently it hit me--she's all grown up.  Actually, that reality has been hitting me a lot lately.  She's making good decisions.  She's putting God first.  She's EAGER to get on with her life--college, life on her own, travel....  I thank God for the young woman she has become.  The prayers are bearing fruit.  The endless hours Nancy has invested in her life since she was born, are coming out in who Abby is--a vibrant, confident young woman.  All the tough times she and I have gone through when I coached her in basketball and treated her with a toughness she didn't see me use with the rest of the team, and all the conversations we've had late at night when life was hard, have contributed to who she is.   

She still has the challenge of college before her, but through her middle school and high school years there was never a rebellious streak--she established her identity without rejecting us.  I remember the day she started middle school. I said, "Honey, they say you're going to turn into a monster; that middle schoolers turn into monsters, but that's not going to happen to you.  You know why?"  She shook her head.  She didn't know.  I looked her square in the eye and said, "Because Marshalls eat monsters for breakfast."  She laughed--we laughed--but she never turned into a monster, and she HAS eaten a lot of monsters for breakfast. 

She called at 1:11 a.m.  She had promised she'd call when she made it from the prom to a friend's house where a group were spending the rest of the night.  We found out this morning at 7:15 when she called that the rest had stayed up all night, but she went to bed at 3:00, because she's working today.  Good decision.  She keeps making them, and we keep saying, "Thank you, Jesus," because we know that if you train up a child in the way she should go, when she is old she won't depart from it.  We're thankful, because we know in a few short months she'll be making all her own decisions. We won't be around to tell her or even suggest what she ought to do. Hopefully, the phone will ring occasionally with her on the other end asking what we would do.  We keep praying, and thanking God, because we see that Abby IS all grown up, and ready to meet the world by God's grace and strength.