Whiter Than Snow

Until this week, the Idaho Panhandle had been having an uncommonly mild winter. In fact, until this week, the cheatgrass around our house had sprung up to declare an early spring, and one little miniature rose bush in our garden had been stubbornly holding on to a last vibrant show of tiny orange-gold blooms.

But this week, winter caught up with us in a big way. We awakened this morning to find that a big, beautiful, fat, snowfall had blanketed the landscape. The snow covered the blemishes of the dead garden and hid the bare, frozen ground beneath.

It was a transforming snow, softening the weedy, rocky hills that form the canyon of the Clearwater River. Even the straggly pines along the banks of the river became lovely sculptures under its graceful hand. It also threatened power lines and turned the roads into ice skating rinks. I always marvel something so delicate and fragile can change a landscape and transform the course of human lives so dramatically.

Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Psalm 51:7

No wonder God used snow to describe one of His most amazing attributes: the purifying power of His mercy. Snowflakes are intricate, fragile, and exquisitely lovely particles of frozen vapor possessing the collective power to alter everything upon which they rest. In like fashion, mercy falls delicately from heaven upon our frozen, barren lives. It covers our sins and imperfections and powerfully transforms even our bleakest landscapes into works of beauty.

Have mercy upon me, O God,
...According to the multitude of Your tender mercies,
Blot out my transgressions.
Psalm 51:1

Mercy, like a snowflake, is a mysterious force; individual in nature; completely unfathomable; so totally new and breathtaking every time it falls. Its mere presence inspires awe. It reflects the light by day and makes even the darkness bright. It arrives at the season of our lives in which everything has died and turned cold. It comes in abundance, obliterating past footsteps and covering our dirt. Blemishes become completely white. The parts of our landscape that cannot be changed are softened by its hand.

"Come now, and let us reason together,"
says the LORD,
"Though your sins are as scarlet,
They will be as white as snow...."
Isaiah 1:18

This afternoon, the snow has let up a bit. My husband has been out clearing the pathways. Man and animals have trampled the snow and marred the pristine landscape. But another snow is coming. We will probably awaken tomorrow morning to find that a brand- new snowfall has repaired the damage to its beauty. Once again, everything will be sparkling.

Clean.

Renewed.

Exactly like us when we look to the sky for God's mercy to fall. It never fails. Dirty, bedraggled, cold, and dead, we lift up our faces to the heavens, and before long the first delicate flakes caress our faces: pure, amazing, gentle, powerful mercy.

The LORD's lovingkindnesses indeed never cease,
For His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
Great is Thy faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:23

Christmas in a Changing World

In a nod to our changing world, this 1900's era bunkhouse at Arrow now displays a sign
from the Arrow Museum dating back to the early 1970's and modern LED decorations.

This holy season closes a year of many challenges and victories for our family. As many of you know, in August I completed a punishing year of nursing school. I passed my board exam in September to become licensed as a nurse in the state of Idaho.

Long hours at school meant the rest of the family had to take up the slack at home. The family rose to the challenge, quietly adding my burdens to theirs without complaint. Graduation in August was a celebration for everyone!

Aaron's mother fell in March and broke her hip, necessitating a total hip replacement. During this time, my step-mom had a total knee replacement. Continuing health problems for both moms have kept the family busy and praying.

The rest of the family is well. Eldest daughter Jen and her husband Scott juggle two jobs, studies, homeschooling duties, and community work. Granddaughters Rebekah and Vanessa are becoming accomplished in piano and Taekwondo. Our eldest son Erik and his wife Rachel work two jobs while transforming the Arrow "homestead" and serving on the worship team at their church. Our sons Kevin and Dan continue to build an online presence for Dragonfly Core, working this year on a popular series for Discovery's Military Channel. Kevin's Christian music website, CMADDICT.com, featured exclusive interviews, news, and reviews from the Christian music world throughout the year. Dan plays drum for the worship team at church. Youngest daughter Grace helps with Sunday school and enjoys being a member of the young adults' group. She is preparing for a much-anticipated trip to Japan in 2012.

Aaron has become the anchor person at home, keeping things running smoothly at Arrow. He continues to be the night "watchman" and sits up every night to keep guard over a sleeping household, ensuring Kevin (and the rest of us) are safe.

I have recently resumed work on a personal project: compiling the history and stories of the people of our beloved Arrow community. This is a project I began before nursing school intervened, and I am eager to complete this work as a tribute to the people and area I love.

On the eve of Christmas, our world sits at an uncertain moment in time. Nations and governments hang at the brink of disaster. The changing face of our world is a constant reminder that security in this life is an illusion. As one tired old year is put to rest, no one knows what the new year will bring.

But we have learned uncertainty only brings into sharper focus the hope and promises of the One whose coming we celebrate at this season. The appearance of the Deliverer split history into Before and After and brought with Him the gift of Forever to all who yearn for deliverance.

It is my prayer that you experience God's peace and complete provision every day of your new year in 2012. May His power and strength keep you and protect you. We appreciate every one of you more than you can ever know.

For I, the LORD, do not change.
Malachi 3:6

Our youngest daughter has an old cat named Raptor. She's had her since she was a kitten. The first time we saw Raptor at the pet store, I picked her up and she growled at me, thus earning her name. In the twelve years Grace has had her, Raptor has kept up her reputation for being cranky. But with each passing year, the old girl has grown slower, pudgier, less sure on her feet.

Sorta like me.

But there's something about the annual Christmas tree that inspires our old kitty. I don't know if it's the scent, the organic connection to the outdoors she no longer roams. Maybe it makes her feel secure. Maybe she just likes being the center of attention along with the tree. Whatever it is, every year she claims it as hers as soon as the last ornament is hung. Or sometimes before.

A lot like me.

Yesterday we cut our tree from our fledgling forest. As soon as we got the Christmas tree skirt around the base of the tree - even before the tree was fully decorated, Raptor was hanging around us in anticipation. As soon as we had it lit, Raptor took up residence. Transformed into the picture of youth again, she batted around the one and only present under the tree. Then she circled around and plopped down on top of it to take her long afternoon nap. She tucked herself as close as she could get to the beauty and comfort of the season and reveled in the rest it offered.

Just like me.

Never Say Never

Congratulations to Daniel and Kevin of Dragonfly Core and to Jeff Boyer and JEDA Productions for their work on the next upcoming installment of Missions that Changed the War. It’s airing on the Military Channel November 18 at 8pm and 9pm EST. This next installment documents the sobering mission of the Enola Gay, the B-29 Superfortress bomber used to drop a nuclear bomb on Hiroshima, Japan, in 1945.

Dragonfly Core’s contribution to such a prestigious project is a testament to the tireless work, sacrifices, and long hours Dan and Kev have put into learning the art of 3D graphics and animation and building a partnership. Their dedication despite many trials and setbacks has been inspiring.

They’ve come a long way from the first time Kevin managed to move one finger just enough to click the cursor on his laptop. It was the first time he had done something for himself since his spinal cord injury in 1997. Back then, he was declared a “complete” injury, and we were told he would never move anything below his chin or shoulders. We were also told he would never breathe again on his own. He definitely could never return to the United States (he was injured in another country). He would never again live at home. At the time, it would have been absolutely laughable to suggest he would eventually partner with his brother to produce graphics and animation for an Emmy-nominated television series.

Of course, he did all those things. Really, one should never say, “never,” especially when God is involved. He totally delights in crushing the “nevers” in our lives. He lives to deliver those of us who have been given no hope. He rejoices in being worthy of our trust. For He is, after all, so very trustworthy.

Thanks, God, for being so amazing.

Thanks, JEDA, for giving Dragonfly Core a chance.

Thanks, Dragonfly, for giving my faith new wings as I watch you take flight.

Loyalty Lives

Today

Is my youngest son's thirtieth birthday. We were actually able to surprise him with a small party over the weekend. I worked really hard to keep him from discovering our plans, but I don't think I needed to worry. Between his part-time job, his care-giving, and his work as co-partner and effects modeler at Dragonfly Core, he was too exhausted to notice. The party went off without a hitch, he was adequately and genuinely surprised, and we had a chance to let him know just important he is.

Really important.
And amazing.
Did I mention hilarious?

Daniel always brings the party. Daniel's the smile-and-light-up-the-whole-room kind of person, the one with a good story and an infectious laugh.

He's also one of the truest examples of loyalty I know. At the age of fifteen, his older brother was nearly fatally injured in a fall. In the fourteen years since, Dan has never left Kevin's side. Neither has he left our side, sacrificing his own dreams to help us accomplish ours. His strength, his sensitivity to the needs of others both humbles me and fills me with pride.

It reminds me of a passage in Isaiah, in which God proclaims His loyalty to His people. Isaiah 46 draws a stark contrast between the idols of the people and the true God. Idols, we are reminded, are created by us. They cannot even move unless we carry them. So we pack them around on our shoulders, set them up where we want them, fall down to worship the creation of our own hands... only to act surprised when they leave us unsatisfied and empty.

God is the complete contradiction to this. He creates us and carries us from the womb. He never leaves our side...even in times of great brokenness. Because He is loyal to us, He promises to carry us on His shoulders from conception through old age (Isaiah 46:3-4). His deliverance is complete; His salvation powerful and perfect.

We are made in God's image; His attributes are displayed through us, as they are through all creation (Genesis 1:27; Romans 1:20). Those who have been born into salvation through the sacrifice of the Lord Jesus become sons of Father God, partakers of His divine nature. As such we display those character traits that remind others of our Father.

In my son Daniel, I see the fierce and tender loyalty of God. I am encouraged to know that Daniel serves a faithful Father and Deliverer who promises to carry his burdens as he has faithfully carried the burdens of his family. I am comforted to know that Dan does not serve the things he has made, but the One who created him, bears him through every day, and who will never leave him forsaken.

Thank God that loyalty still lives. Thank God that He rewards those who live for Him.

Happy Birthday, Dan.

Graduation

The family

And it only took me forty years to get there. I began taking the prerequisites for the nursing program in 1971 and didn't complete the program until 2011. At least you can say I finish what I start... eventually.

The day was made extra special by the presence of all our children, their spouses, the grandchildren, my niece and her husband, my mother-in-law, and my almost-sister Sherry. My son-in-law Scott couldn't help but add a little drama to the occasion by wiping out on the four-wheeler with our granddaughter hours before the pinning. What began as an innocent ride on our property ended with a tumble into the barbed wire.

Scott, himself bleeding from a nasty cut, carried our granddaughter up to the house, where I had chance to practice my newly learned skills. As we worked on Va, the other granddaughter watched anxiously over my shoulder. Suddenly she mumbled something about not wanting to see any more. She backed up to the kitchen counter and passed out cold in the most graceful display of slow-motion collapse that I have ever seen. She hit her head on the way down, and the rest of the family came running to care for her. I couldn't leave the one to care for the other.

She quickly came to, was escorted to the living room to recover, and we got Va patched up.
My son-in-law had to be taken to minor care for a tetanus shot and stitches. I had to go to school to get ready for graduation. My daughter went home, cleaned up after the carnage, and took clothes to Scott in minor care. He changed in the restroom there for the ceremony and everybody came limping in just in time. I have to say that it made for an absolutely unforgettable day!

Pinning

With all my heart I thank my amazing family for their support, sacrifices, and prayers during my year in school. I now have my certificate in practical nursing and can return to caring for Kevin (my most favorite job).

Me with my stepmom and dad
I'm especially excited to be back to writing. This last year has left me more convinced than ever that we serve a God who performs miracles. Pretty much raising-the-dead kind of miracles. Every day, out loud, parting-the-waters kinds of miracles. Help for the helpless.

Deliverance for the desperate.

Can't wait to share with you.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby - A Review

In 1995, Jean-Dominique Bauby was the editor-in-chief of a well-known French magazine, the father of two, and a man very much in control of his life. One day - without warning - he suffered a massive stroke and was transformed from an active forty-three-year-old professional man to a prisoner within his own body. Nearly a month after the stroke, he awakened from a coma able only to blink one eye, the victim of a condition called "locked in syndrome." In this syndrome, a person is cognitively aware but is unable to move or talk.

Eventually he was able to communicate to others that he was mentally functioning. With the help of a therapist, he learned a system of blinking his one good eye to indicate the letters of the alphabet in order to form words and sentences. He used this system to write The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, the poignant story of his experience.

Bauby died of pneumonia two days after the French publication of his book in March of 1997.

***********************

Since our own fight to keep the doctor from pulling the plug on our son after his spinal cord injury in 1997, it has been my passion to learn as much as possible about people with devastating disabilities and to help others understand the struggles they endure.

In one of our nursing classes, the instructor showed us a clip of a 2008 movie about Jean-Dominique Bauby. I wanted to learn more about his story, but I decided to buy and read the book rather than watch the video.

After finishing the book, I did some additional Internet research on Bauby and locked-in-syndrome and discovered that the movie version is not accurate. The book flows unscripted from the mind of Bauby to the page. His talent for painting rich word pictures is all the more stunning when one remembers that he painstakingly dictated each word by blinking his one good eye. Ironically, his senses seem to have been honed sharper - rather than dulled - by his profound paralysis.

 
Bauby’s account of discovering some of his former associates were calling him a “vegetable” is heart-wrenching, as is his description of his brutal treatment at the hands of one doctor. Thankfully, not all medical professionals surrounding Bauby were so callous. Under other circumstances, Bauby might never have had an opportunity to speak from inside his prison. It makes me wonder how many times society dismisses those with disabilities as "vegetables." It makes me think we need to tread lightly when it comes to making decisions that may destroy someone who is desperately fighting for life.

 
As I read Bauby's story, I wept over his loss. I wept anew over our loss. I was drawn back to the reasons I chose nursing in the first place, before tests and competencies and endless stress buried me alive. I want to be a nurse who cares for those who can’t care for themselves and who speaks for those with no voice - an advocate for those fighting against all odds to live as fully as possible in bodies that are broken.

Surprisingly, the book is not depressing. It is the celebration of life from the perspective of one who experiences it from afar. It solidified my resolve to remember that the person always precedes the process when I care for others. When scheduling demands, changing societal norms, or my own ignorance of a particular medical condition threatens to pull me away from that resolve, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly sits nearby on my shelf as a solemn and powerful reminder.

This also makes me wonder how many times we dismiss those with disabilities as "vegetables." It makes me wonder how much we still need to learn about what is considered brain dead in an individual. It makes me think we need to tread lightly when it comes to making decisions that may cost the life of someone desperately trying to fight for life.
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is not written from a Christian perspective, but Bauby's love for life and talent for "writing" make this an important read.