It's nearing that time of year again - September 21st - Acorn Day!

I was sitting on the front porch a few days ago and watched as a leaf from a tree high above made it's way effortlessly down, down to the ground and landed so softly. I was thankful for having the time to sit with a cup of coffee and watch the flight of that one lone leaf.

Soon the leaves will be changing into their fall colors and finding the courage to let go.

The leaves on this particular tree I've watched change through many seasons of my life. This is a huge oak, decades old, and sits in Mom's beautiful front yard on Cove Road in Chickamauga. I've decided that once again this year that Acorn Day will happen in this yard. The 21st is on a Sunday, and we'll have our treasure hunt, celebration, and story beginning at 3:00 pm. Please pray with me that the hearts of the children who come will be filled with wonder and thankfulness, that they will see God as the creator of all that is good and lovely and long to live their lives for his glory. Hope to see you there!

This picture was taken last Christmas - Mom's showing off her new pjs.

Today has been a bit strange. So many times in the last few months I've said that I wished my life would settle. We humans are so fickle, we always want what we don't have. Now that things are moving in the direction of what I think is settling, I'm a bit sad. Artie and I have been living with his Mom who has Alzheimers for the past five years. After a lot of prayer and discussion we have made the decision to move her to an Alzheimers care facility. It's a very nice place with wonderful people and will be convenient for the whole family and for friends to visit. But as I'm buying new pajamas, her favorite Reese peanut butter cups, and "footsies for her tootsies" (as she always used to say) - it has been very hard. Since the decision, Artie and I take turns getting upset and know that this is to be expected. We are watching our grandchildren learn new words and look at the world with wonder and watching Mom struggle to remember words and look out with eyes often filled with distraught. Filling out papers, trying to think of every thing those who will be caring for her might need to know so that they can be aware of what she really needs --- letting go --- I guess these lessons continue until we let go for good. If you're reading this, pray with us for this transition. Please pray that Mom will not be afraid, that she will know that she is loved and well cared for. Thanks.

Yellow Jackets - I'm sure they have a purpose besides stinging people, right?

I don't remember having been stung by a yellow jacket before, but I had that awful privilege yesterday as I was using a hoe to dig out the roots of some pesky weeds. I think I was stung 2 or 3 times on my right foot. I did get the opportunity to flip one of them pretty hard and then took off running into the house. I immediately applied ice to my foot and took some benadryl. I figured it would sting for a while and then start to go away. Instead the pain became more and more intense and felt like my foot was in a vice that kept getting tighter and tighter. I have always had a pretty high pain tolerance, but I tell you, this was one of the most painful things I have ever experienced. Artie finally convinced me to go to the emergency room and I was given a steroid shot and something for pain. I'm better today but my foot is still a bit painful. Today I just wanted to say that I'm very thankful for drugs and to know that I'm allergic to yellow jackets. I'll do my best to avoid them in the future.

Look at the beauty of this tree that I have been privileged to see through many seasons of change. It was here way before I was born and will probably be here long after I'm gone. I was amazed as I saw the sun coming through those leaves - the beauty was overwhelming.

We sang this song in church today and it washed over my mind and heart and soul. This song was overwhelming too. Whenever I hear a song like this that is so powerful and true I always want to add it to songs I would like to have as part of my funeral someday. That list is getting pretty long.

That last verse - "Oh to see my name written in the wounds, for through your suffering I am free. Death is crushed to death, life is mine to live, won through your selfless love." Wow!

One of the main reasons I want to continue to have Acorn Day on September 21st each year is to begin to prepare my children and grandchildren for my death someday. Death in Christ is not to be feared. Just as that acorn falls into the ground and this amazing new thing happens - that acorn becomes a majestic oak - just imagine what God will do with us as we see him face to face and know as we are known! Ahhhhh!

Oh to see the dawn (The power of the cross): Pdf sheet music

Stuart Townend / Keith Getty

£1.49

Key: C
Tempo: slow

OH, TO SEE THE DAWN
Of the darkest day:
Christ on the road to Calvary.
Tried by sinful men,
Torn and beaten, then
Nailed to a cross of wood.

This, the power of the cross:
Christ became sin for us.
Took the blame, bore the wrath -
We stand forgiven at the cross.

Oh, to see the pain
Written on Your face,
Bearing the awesome weight of sin.
Every bitter thought,
Every evil deed
Crowning Your bloodstained brow.

Now the daylight flees,
Now the ground beneath
Quakes as its Maker bows His head.
Curtain torn in two,
Dead are raised to life;
‘Finished!’ the victory cry.

Oh, to see my name
Written in the wounds,
For through Your suffering I am free.
Death is crushed to death,
Life is mine to live,
Won through Your selfless love.

(Final chorus)
This, the power of the cross:
Son of God - slain for us.
What a love! What a cost!
We stand forgiven at the cross.

Keith Getty & Stuart Townend
Copyright © 2005 Thankyou Music

Coming Out into the Sunshine

This morning I listened to a CD by Rich Mullins. I actually had about 15 or 20 minutes to myself to listen to his words and music and it was like I was hearing his words for the first time. My soul was overcome with joy as I sang in my heart the truths in his songs. There is a depth and richness that comes from the heart of this man who knows his God and knows himself that soothes my soul and makes it yearn for God alone.

On Sunday night at small group I asked the group to pray for Kurt, Josh and Jen, Leah and Cannon. Then I also asked for prayer for my cousin, Ron, who continues to struggle with the aftermath of a heart attack and for the fear that he might also pass away soon. And as I was talking I was overcome with emotion and the words sort of fell out, "I'm just so tired of funerals...and that there must be something God has for me to learn and I don't want to miss whatever that is." Steve, one of the men in our group, prayed and in addition to praying for what I'd asked he prayed that God would allow me to simply grieve and not feel I had to try so hard to figure everything out but trust the One who knows everything.

So this morning as I listened to Rich Mullins' voice, I thought of him singing in heaven, and I was overcome with joy and peace. If you've not listened to Rich Mullins lately, you might want to find a quiet place and let the music soothe and satiate your soul.

Here are the words to

"calling out your name"

Well the moon moved past Nebraska and
Spilled laughter on them cold Dakota Hills
And angels danced on Jacob's stairs
There is this silence in the Badlands
And over Kansas the whole universe was stilled
By the whisper of a prayer
And the single hawk bursts into light
And in the east the whole horizon is in flames

Chorus:
I feel the thunder in the sky
I see the sky about to rain
And I hear the prairies calling out Your name

I can feel the earth tremble beneath
The rumbling of the buffalo hooves
And the fury in the pheasant's wings
It tells me the Lord is in His temple and there is
Still faith that can make the mountains move
And a love that can make the heavens ring
Where the sacred rivers meet beneath
The shadow of the Keeper of the plains

Repeat chorus

From the place where morning gathers
You can look sometimes
Forever 'til you see
What time may never know
How the Lord takes by its corners this old world
And shakes us forward - shakes us free
To run wild with the hope
The hope that this thirst will not last long
That it will soon drown
In the song not sung in vain

Repeat chorus

I know this thirst will not last long, that it will
Soon drown in the song not sung in vain
I feel the thunder in the sky
I see the sky about to rain
And with the prairies I am calling out Your name

- Rich Mullins

Ah, here's the great photo of my brother, Steve, on the beach - his hands raised to take it all in. This is the way I think of him now - I'm sure that the beauty of this beach is nothing compared to the beauty of Jesus. I think of Steve now with his arms raised in worship. This is the way I hope I will always remember him.

There's something about the pull of the ocean that has always made me feel close to God. The sun, the wind, the sand, the smell of the ocean and the beauty of creation all in unison overwhelming my senses. Standing on the beach, feeling the tide pull away and my feet sinking a little deeper into the sand makes me feel so very small yet so very known by my Heavenly Father.

Since Steve's passing, I have been thinking a lot about heaven and about all the wonderful promises of the hope of eternal life. God's children are all going to be given new names, a name only known by God. There's something so amazingly wonderful about that. There are a few people in scripture who received name changes this side of heaven - Abram and Sarai became Abraham and Sarah. Saul became Paul. Simon became Cephas, or Peter. Those changes in their names had meaning. So much is associated with our name, and the one that we will be given by God himself must surely capture the essence of who each of us really are. I wonder if we'll be met in heaven being called by our new name - and then we will truly know that we are known. I can't wait to hear God telling me my name and to know the new name of all my family and friends.

Until then, sweet Steve, I'll remember all that I can about my big brother, especially the way you loved people, and life, and the beach - with arms open wide.

Ways I Remember Steve

My daughter posted this picture of my brother, Steve, on her blog. It is such a picture of his heart. There is another picture that I have of him in my mind now that I wish I could post for you to see.

Since the funeral, pictures like this one, and others like it were replaced with Steve lying glassy-eyed in a hospital bed and then praying and watching as he took his last breath.

A few days ago I went to Columbia Theological Seminary to take a spiritual formation class in group spiritual guidance. I debated whether I should go, but after prayer felt that it would be good for my soul. So, with my good friend, Penny, I headed to Atlanta. Penny... I'm so thankful for such a wonderful friend.

When the class began we learned that unlike small or accountability groups that I'm familiar with, spiritual guidance groups concentrate on silence and listening to God, the vertical relationship, rather than the horizontal. In small groups in which I've been a member we tend to pray for one another and give advice or opinions. In these spiritual guidance groups, that were centered around scripture, we rather listen for God to speak to us. There is a facilitator in the group who keeps track of sharing time and helps to guide the time together. Each person has the opportunity to share and then prayer is offered for discernment. The goal is for God to give insight into the needs of each one and that questions, not advice or opinion, keep the group listening to what God might have to offer rather than on the group trying to fix one another's problems. For people who are prone to trying to fix things, this can be difficult. This is just a simple, brief overview - lots more than can be explained here.

But, I wanted to share a bit of my experience and what happened in my heart, and also offer a prayer of thanks for God speaking to me out of those times of shared silence.

The first scripture we read was from John 21:1-13. Jesus is on the beach at the Sea of Galilee after his resurrection. (When I was in Israel in 2000, I had the privilege of camping out at the Sea of Galilee and it was the place in all of Israel where I could most envision Jesus having actually walked.) There is a long night of fruitless fishing until Jesus, though they didn't know it was him, told them to cast their net on the other side of the boat and they pull in a huge catch. John recognizes Jesus, Peter puts on his clothes and jumps in the water, and then Jesus tells the disciples to come have breakfast and He serves the fish and the bread. I heard this scripture read aloud four times, with silence in between each reading. On the fourth reading the image came alive for me. I saw Jesus bending over a fire, cooking fish. Then Steve is walking down the shoreline, and he looks up, spreads out his arms and says, "I love it!" This is what Steve did when he vacationed at the beach with his family and this picture of his delight, intoxicated with awe and beauty, was captured on a family vacation to St. George Island a couple of years ago. Steve then walks over and sits down with Jesus and they both turn to me and smile. This image bathed my heart for several minutes, and this picture has replaced the one in my memory of Steve in the hospital bed.

The next day we read Acts 3:1-10. This is the account of the lame beggar outside the Temple. Peter and John walk by the man crippled from birth and the beggar asks the disciples for money. Peter and John look at the man and tell him "Silver or gold I do not have, but what I have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk." So, his feet and ankles become strong and he gets to his feet and begins walking and jumping and praising God. And they were filled with wonder and amazement.

Following the readings and silence, an image came to me first of my sweet little granddaughter, Autumn. She is four months old and smiles just burst from her sweet little face. What a happy baby! The words descended into my heart "God, the giver of life." And then Steve's face came to my mind and the words descended "God, the taker of life." And then the words went deep into my heart and soul, "The Lord gives, the Lord takes away, blessed be the Name of the Lord." After another period of silence, the scripture again came alive for me. I saw Steve, sick, outside the temple. I thought of and remembered the prayers so many had fervently prayed for his healing. We waited for healing with expectancy. And then I thought of the beggar. Lame from birth, he depended on alms to survive and expected alms from Peter and John. But he received something so much better. We had prayed that Steve would be healed this side of heaven. But he received something so much better. I saw Steve as the beggar, no longer hobbling from the large tumor in his hip, no longer struggling for breath, or being sick from the cancer and chemotherapy. I saw Steve rising, then standing, then leaping for joy. Then Steve turned and looked at me (Peter and John had told the beggar "Look at us!") and then he smiled, and waved as he turned and walked into the Temple and the door shut behind him. And again, peace bathed my heart.

God's word is active, and living, and powerful. And God used his word to heal my heart, soul, and mind. I will always miss Steve. There's nobody who knows and shares the history we have. But we have an amazing shared future. And it was so kind and gracious of God to give me these new images, better images, whole images - eternal images to replace the temporal ones.

And I'm thankful for this knowing that God is able to do more than I can think or imagine, if I will take the time to listen. God doesn't have to show me anything, but He chose to, out of his kindness and mercy. I realized through these days of group spiritual guidance how often I try to be in the place of God for other people. GOD IS GOD. I am still learning, and will until that day I see Jesus face to face, and the wholeness and healing that Steve has received become reality for me as well. I'm sure that I will still grieve and mourn, but there is a deeper knowing that gives me such peace. Peace that passes all human understanding is mine.

I also want to share the words of the song we began Steve's funeral service with. These words comfort my heart and "carry me far away..."

BEYOND THE SKY

ONE MORNING WHEN TIME IS DONE,
BRIGHT HEAVEN
WILL BE OUR REFUGE,
THE CITY OF GOD, MOST HIGH.

I LONG FOR THAT HOLY DAY
THIS LONGING,
SOMETIMES IT CAPTURES MY HEART,
AND CARRIES ME FAR AWAY.

BEYOND THE SKY,
BEYOND ALL TELLING,
OUR FATHER HIMSELF
WILL BE OUR LIGHT.
HIS ARMS WILL HOLD US
AND WITH HIS HAND,
HE'LL WIPE AWAY THE TEARS
THAT STAIN OUR EYES.

WHEN DARKNESS FALLS OVER ME
THIS PROMISE,
IT'S LIKE A FIRE INSIDE
BURNING THE DARK AWAY.
BEYOND THE SKY,
BEYOND ALL TELLING,
OUR FATHER HIMSELF
WILL BE OUR LIGHT.
HIS ARMS WILL HOLD US
AND WITH HIS HAND,
HE'LL WIPE AWAY THE TEARS
THAT STAIN OUR EYES.

-FERNANDO ORTEGA

It's after midnight and I can't sleep. My brother, Steve, went Home to heaven on February 23. He died from renal cell carcinoma - very fast moving. I've just gotten home from Little Rock. Somehow leaving his house knowing I wouldn't see him again there was so hard, so permanent.

Somehow I want to make the world stop - for just a few moments - to acknowledge how wonderful he was. It just seems so unnatural for things to continue along without missing a beat.

We grew up for a good while with a single father, and my brother, Steve, was given a lot of responsibility. There are a lot of hard memories, but the hardness of our lives produced such fruit in Steve's life. He was a wonderful brother. He taught me how to shave my legs, and how to play tackle football. He sewed shoulder pads for me made out of a flannel shirt, stuffed with all kinds of weird stuff for padding and I became his tackling dummy. He decorated the house at Christmas and I learned there was no Santa Clause by hiding behind the couch as I watched him put together my bike. He helped me with school projects and taught me how to write with a cartridge pen. He taught me how to swim, how to blow up army men with firecrackers and paint them with red fingernail polish so they would look like they had really been to war. I learned how to play whiffle ball, softball, and tetherball under Steve's tutelage. Necessity is the mother of invention, and so often Steve would creatively come up with solutions to our every day needs. I thought he could do or fix anything. But cancer, he couldn't lick. We prayed hard for Steve's healing and now we turn to God for our help, healing, hope and grace. We had hoped he would be healed this side of heaven. So with what we don't understand we turn our face to God and open our hand, acknowledging God's goodness in giving him to us for 57 years. The more you love someone, the harder it is when they leave. I'm thankful that Steve was my brother.

Steve was a rock, a constant, a wise and loving man. He was sweet, in the greatest sense of that word. We talked often and he was always anxious to hear about my children and grandchildren. One of the women who worked with Steve said he would ask her if she wanted to see some pretty babies and he'd call her in to check out Linda or Jen's blogs. She said he loved the names "Lavender Zoe" and "Ella Rose."

When he called and got my voice mail he would leave a message and most often said, "Susan, this is brother. Call me." I so wish I had saved one of his messages so I could hear his voice every now and then.

At the viewing the night before the funeral a DVD was playing with pictures of Steve's life and Randy Travis singing hymns. My son, Josh, said from those pictures it looked like Steve lived at the beach. He loved it so much and he, Susie, and the girls and their families spent many vacations enjoying the sand and water. He loved his wife, his daughters, his grandchildren. Another friend who came over to be with me watched the DVD and said kindness and love could be seen in each of Steve's snapshots. I will post some of those pictures if I can copy them from the DVD. For now, the sunset picture was the best I could do.

This is the hardest trial I've had to face thus far in my life. Losing parents is hard, but somehow losing Steve was even harder for me. It just seemed like there was a lot more living for him to do. I don't think we're ever meant to "get over" the deaths of those we love. We must turn to God for the help only He can give and for his mercies that are new every morning. If you're reading this, your prayers for me and for our family are appreciated. Steve left a boulder-size hole in my heart.

This is Juden being a tiger. It was taken a few months ago on a really pretty day when he and I were playing together. He is growing up so fast - can't believe that he is already 3 years old!

One of the things that I want to do in my life is be available for my kids and grandkids. My maternal grandparents died before my oldest brother was born and my paternal grandparents I didn't get to know very well. I was envious as a child of people who talked about spending time with their grandparents and doing things with them. So, my heart desire is to really know my grandchildren.

Juden spent the day with me this week (no pictures were taken of this event) and it was so cute that I wanted to share it. He's doing very well with his potty training and as we were involved in playing with toys, he suddently jumped up and said he needed to go to the potty. So I jumped up with him and he sat down on the potty. He got this thoughtful look on his face as he stared down at the floor. The bathroom floor is tile with small black and white patterns. He turned up to me and said, "Mimi, where are the triangles?" I thought for a minutes, trying to figure out what he was asking. He looked down from the potty at the pattern in the tile and then I saw the shapes of squares and rectangles. And I thought to myself, "Wow! Isn't he brilliant!"

It's very late and I should be in bed, but I just wanted to put down a few words. I spent the weekend visiting with my dad's three remaining siblings and their spouses. It was a very rich time but I found as I was making the drive back home that I was a bit melancholy. I'm attempting to begin doing some writing about my dad and I wanted to talk to his family to find out as much as I could about his childhood. Daddy loved his family so much and theirs is one of love and commitment. I heard many stories. The stories made me miss Daddy and Mom. They made me wish that I could have known my grandparents better. Strong emotions were evoked - laughter and tears. My mind is full of so much that I want to remember and so much that I want to share with my children and grandchildren. I heard stories that I remember from family gatherings over the years, but the stories never get old and only improve upon retelling. Uncle Roy died young, and he and my dad were very close. I barely remember him. So many now have passed away, Aunt Ruth, Mom, Dad, Uncle James, Uncle Gene, Uncle Paul. Such rich lives. As I listened again to familiar stories and learned some new ones, I was once again thankful for the family that I was born into. I realized afresh the depth of joy in belonging to a family in all of its humanness...the beauty of goodness and the pain of facing the truth about the things that have happened that we wish we coud change. And I guess that's where we find the wonder in being part of a family - those who (in our case, and I hope in yours) will be there for all those times we mess up. There were definitely things that got messed up and I learned that my parents generation generally doesn't like to talk much about those things. I learned a lot by what was said and what wasn't and realize there's a lot I'll just never know. I'm starting to get sleepy and since I don't know if anything I'm writing makes sense at this point, I'll go to bed. I do pray that I won't forget how it feels right now to be overly tired from staying up into the wee hours talking with family. I look forward to heaven, to being again with all those I love, where there are no boundaries of time or distance to keep us apart.

In light of the evil that has happened at Virginia Tech, I thought of words to a David Wilcox song. My heart was comforted as I listened several times to this song and turned my heart to "love that wrote the play." I pray your heart will be comforted and that our hearts will be turned to the Source of all comfort and wisdom.

Show the Way - David Wilcox

You say you see no hope, you say you see no reason
We should dream that the world would ever change
You're saying love is foolish to believe
'Cause there'll always be some crazy with an Army or a
Knife
To wake you from your day dream, put the fear back
in your life...

Look, if someone wrote a play just to glorify
What's stronger than hate, would they not arrange
the stage
To look as if the hero came too late
He's almost in defeat
It's looking like the Evil side will win, so on the Edge
Of every seat, from the moment that the whole thing
begins
It is...

Chorus:
Love who makes the mortar
And it's love who stacked these stones
And it's love who made the stage here
Although it looks like we're alone
In this scene set in shadows
Like the night is here to stay
There is evil cast around us
But it's love that wrote the play...
For in this darkness love can show the way

So now the stage is set. Feel your own heart beating
In your chest. This life's not over yet.
So we get up on our feet and do our best. We play
against the
Fear. We play against the reasons not to try
We're playing for the tears burning in the happy
angels eyes

For it's
Love who makes the mortar
And it's love who stacked these stones
And it's love who made the stage here
Although it looks like we're alone
In this scene set in shadows
Like the night is here to stay
There is evil cast around us
But it's love that wrote the play...
For in this darkness love can show the way

Easter 2007



I've just finished a book by Eugene Peterson, Living the Resurrection. I read it in one sitting and just like Cleopas and companion on the road from Emmaus, my heart burned within me as I read it. To know Jesus, the risen Lord, is the most amazing truth in all of life. In the ordinariness and meanness of my days, I pray that knowing Jesus and living each day in the reality that I am living now in his kingdom, will rule in my heart and in my mind. And that will compel me to live my days with joy and hope. Hope, my friend Sarah tells me, is the constant expectation of good. Sarah learned this truth from her Grandmother Ruth.

My heavenly Father knows what I need and will always deal with me as his daughter. So, I can ask, seek, knock, and expect that when I talk to my Father I can trust that He will not give me a stone when I ask for bread, and He will not give me a snake when I ask for a fish. So, I pray that I will truly seek the things that are above and live each day in the knowledge that my Father knows what I need.

I am so thankful that my children and grandchildren are close. I am so thankful that I am able to watch their little dimpled fingers reach for Easter eggs. I love to hear their laughter and their words as they begin to comprehend their worlds and the people around them. To hear excited cries of "Mimi" when they see me...there's nothing like it.

So, here are pictures of our sweet family. My prayer is that these little ones will never know a day when they were not aware that they had a Father in heaven who created them, loves them, knows them, and will never leave them. Just like Sarah learned from Grandmother Ruth, we learn who God by living in our families. I pray they will know that hope is a constant expecation of good.

Well, I'm having trouble posting pics for some reason - so I'll just go ahead and post and hope I can post pictures later. Blessings to all.

Naya Faith Green

Our precious little granddaughter has arrived! Isnt' she lovely? Naya means gentleness. It will be fun to watch her grow into the woman God wants her to be. We are so thankful.

Christmas 2006

One of the highlights of our Christmas season was taking a train ride on the "Polar Express." The grandchildren loved it. Juden, Ella and Lavender had a great time and as grandparents it was a delight to have this time together with our children and grandchildren. What a true wonder it is to be family and to know God's faithfulness to us. We are truly blessed.

Acorn Day - September 21, 2006


A day of remembrance, celebration, and fun. Pictures will be posted soon, along with some reflections. It's hard to believe that five years have passed. How thankful I am to know that those I love are now Home.

A family tradition was started last year on September 21st. Five years ago, my father passed away on the first day of autumn. My dad and I had a special connection that involves acorns and oak trees - so it was a sweet thing that God called Dad home on that day - a way God once again proved his knowing of the deep things of my heart.

So, this Thursday is Acorn Day - a time of celebrating the story my father told me when I was a little girl. We're going to decorate treasure bags and have a treasure hunt. We'll color and paint and create autumn pictures. And then I'll share my story with my precious grandchildren and friends and we can celebrate together. I can remember again the wonder I felt as a little girl knowing that God made a huge oak tree from one tiny acorn, and I'll pray that some of that wonder will be placed in the hearts of the children who listen. I do think we can inspire wonder in one another - and that is my prayer - that these children will grow in their sense of wonder at the majesty and power of a God who can do above and beyond anything we can think or imagine.

If you're reading this, feel free to come and be a part - 3:30 on the 21st. If you aren't able to come, think of us and say a prayer for us that God will be pleased to draw the hearts of the children as they celebrate his goodness to us.

Blessings - Susan