Time keeps on slippin' into the future...

Its been so long since I've posted that it's possible all my readers have given up on me! But we're here. Life is flying by. Molly's working 2 jobs, Hannah moves into a charming old house with a friend on Nov. 1, Paul has 2 more football games, graduates in December and leaves for Vermont in January. Sydney wraps up cheer next week and has been sitting for standardized tests about once a month getting ready to reel in scholarship money for college. Sami had a successful school v-ball season, has started basketball at school and will try out for Jr. Olympic Regional (not national) team today and tomorrow. Chris still drives to Ft. Smith everyday, and I'm in Fayetteville. And Uncle Jon, who moved in during June, is on a one week trip to Southern CA.

Heard on the radio this morning that confident faith can be compared to driving to an unknown destination with OnStar in the car. A voice, that knows your name, will guide you with directions - you just have to follow the next step. I like this. With so many changes in the family, it is a blessing to have confidence that the Lord knows our names and in trusting and obeying the next step, we can peacefully navigate the coming days.

Love to you all...

How Shall we then live?

Another sudden and shocking death has rocked our hearts in the abbey home. The day before mother's day the girls and I were reading around the pool when aunt cherie (Chris's sister) called on Sami's phone. "I need you guys, it looks bad. The doctors say only a miracle will keep Doug alive through the night..." Within two hours we loaded up the van and headed for Vegas where Cherie and her husband had been vacationing. But we only made it as far as flagstaff when the call came that Doug had 'gone home'. So we went home to Temecula where all the children were born, where we all first met doug, and where he and Cherie had created a life of love and laughter together.

We stayed for a week. It wasn't long enough. Speaking to Cherie tonight makes me long to go and stay with her to help her through these exhausting days and long sleepless nights. There is so much to be done, I've observed, in the weeks following a death. No time, really to let it all sink in. And it is easy for those left behind to feel so overwhelmed.

Yesterday as I was worrying about future issues I was impressed in my spirit that I did not need to spend the energy in negative thoughts about what the summer may hold. Rather, I am only asked to "do the next thing" - that which is right in front of me, and the rest will be revealed in God's time. And so that is what I am trying to do. Rest in the moment of nowhere... because that is where He is - Now and Here.

And I can't help but ponder at this time how I would want to be remembered after I "go home" How Shall WeThen Live, knowing that the end could come any moment? In fact, I'd like to challenge fellow bloggers out there to post about that very thing. At the very least it reminds me for this moment to savor those I love and as Doug's brother-in-law so eloquently put it at his Memorial service - "always tell them you love them, and live in a way that would make your parents proud".

May I just say, I do not get the whole attach a picture, write a bit, and attach another picture?? I wanted clever little captions under each one. Don't think I'll get that! and, I can't figure out how to move and/or size them. one day...

One of the wonderful things about living in a small town for nearly a decade is the predictability of traditions. Like - prom weekend is usually sunny, and pretty much count on rain for Dogwood festival weekend. the weather man got those mixed up this year. Here are Paul and Sydney in the gazebo at the park - cuz even in the rain, the kids gather to snap photos!

At any rate, after pictures in the park the six headed back here to a tent in the "park" yard of the new house. appitizers - bread with olive oil/basalmic vingegar and herbs, shrimp cocktail, and fresh bruscheta along with the yummy fizzy drinks w/fresh berries. Unfortunately, by the time they'd been chatting, playing whonu and eating the starter dishes the rain was pouring down. The girls were good sports in the guys jackets, but they were all happy when I suggested the girls run upstairs to "powder their noses' (do people really say that still. Okay. didn't say that, said freshen up, but that would have put "up" two times in the same sentence...) and the boys went off to paul's room to play nintendo.

Chris, Molly, and I moved the dinner party to the living room. Much better - and more dry!
Chris was INCREDIBLE! this day. He did all of the cooking. Famous steaks (RuthsChris has nothing on us) - cuscus w/cranberry and almond, and these little green bean bundles - so yummy. I'm going to try and post a picture of his greatness :) I am lucky. I keep telling these girls of mine not to go getting involved with anyone unless he's as great as their dad... (at this rate they'll never move out!) But I digress

Overall, I think the kids and their dates -Paul and Sydney went with Allie and Zach and their friends Corey and Bethany joined them - had a pretty swell time. Fifth year in a row for prom - five more to go. whew. The last picture is of the fab 5 - both serious, and silly. they are just so fun.

Facebook | Sydney JoAnn's Photos - Prom '09

Facebook Sydney JoAnn's Photos - Prom '09

Long TIme NO Post

Our lives have changed drastically in the past month. And so in the midst of adjustment and stress, I just haven't had the energy to post. And this one may be as short as the last. But a quick update:

Chris was asked by his employer to jump start a mental health clinic in Hamburg, AR. For those of you who've never heard of this village, it is in the opposite corner of the state from Siloam Springs - less than 60 miles from Monroe, Louisiana. So, on Sunday afternoon, he gets in his car and makes the five hour drive. And on Thursday afternoon, he comes home again. In the meantime, I have taken his spot at the clinic in Ft. Smith (about 90 miles from home). So, every morning I get in my car at 6:30 and drive there, and then make it home usually by 6:00pm. Yes, this is stressful.

But our kids have been fantastic in the midst of this transition. Molly makes menus, does the shopping, puts away the groceries ("because, Mom, I want to be able to find everything"... i'm not the most organized individual, but she is...) AND she cooks a great dinner every night I work. She and Hannah split the driving that has to be done during the day for their sisters. Hanny helps with chores (she's even washed and dried the dog a few times these past few weeks!) and they both are managing to hold down their own jobs and go to college full time as well.

Paul is enjoying the freedom in the morning to sleep and not have to get up for family breakfast. He also appreciates me not "reminding" (aka, I hate to admit, Nagging) him to take out the trash and feed the pets. With spring football gearing up and working at the ranch rope's course along with the all important social scene, he's content. Sydney rides to school with him everyday. Between cheering for our basketball team at State these past few weeks and tryouts for next year's squad, she too keeps busy. Also, she cleans the bathroom most morning.

Sami is probably having the biggest adjustment. But she too, pitches in everyday. Her chore is unloading and setting the table. With club volleyball in Springdale 3x a week and tournaments about every other weekend, her schedule is full. Plus, she's still an active leader in FCA...

This is hard - I'm not gonna lie. But its okay. By God's grace we are learning and growing and staying strong as a family. Of course there are arguments about chores, and once in a while someone gets left somewhere without a ride. But frankly, that happened when I was in town all week long... I worry about the kids. I worry about Chris. And I worry about me. But then I think of all we have to be grateful about, and I begin to give thanks, instead. That is much easier on my heart.

The Little River Band

Becky and I got to go see The Little River Band in concert in the desert. They are one of those bands that those of us who were kids in the late '70s early '80s can sing along with very easily. The guys obviously love their jobs, have a great time on stage and do a fabulous show. I'm going to try to insert a music link like I've seen on some of your blog sites... And, if LRB ever comes to a venue near you - you should go - its a good time!

"Reality"

The other day my older teens/20 and their friends were watching a movie my 13 year old wasn't allowed to see. I made the comment to the girls, "This is such a dark story". One of them replied; "It's reality, mom!" And I said, "perhaps it is for some, but most of us do not experience a reality that is so without hope."

And it makes me wonder. What is my reality? When it begins to feel that nothing is working out the way I planned. When my faith takes a back seat to my fear. When I forget how very much I am loved. At those times, in the wee hours of the morning when I am tempted to give in to the lie that my sins are still being held against me... I forget that "There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus".

So what is my reality??

Time Warp

I've noticed something in the last couple of weeks as I begin to familiarize myself with the world according to blogspot.com. Most of you are mothers of relatively young children. I suppose that's because so many of the stories we can tell are cute, funny, and even if they do involve "poop" or "throw-up" they're still poignant and bring smiles when our kids are little. Too, many of you are stay at home moms who are incredibly gifted and creative in your parenting. I love to read the stories of your days. In some ways, it makes me quite nostalgic. The simple time of staying home with small children. And then I read a post about having a dirty diaper on the floor since yesterday, and a sink full of dishes and I snap out of that revelry...
Mine were 5 in six years. When we moved to Hawaii "field trips" became part of our daily routine. We'd head for the beach most days. Sami had just turned one and was the best little napper. We'd get her set up and then the other four and I would hit the water to body surf or snorkel. The only time I ever gave them Cheetos was at the beach. The orange stuff always would come off in the water! Drip castles became works of art. Japanese tourists took pictures of the kids (they were all blond in those days). Some days we'd just go to a local pool. Or the Honolulu zoo - admission was free for the Keikis (children) and practically free for their Kamahiena (local)mama. One of our favorite things to do was to visit the mall in Pearl City. Two shopping areas "Uptown" with stores like Dillard's, Macy's, etc. and "Down Town" with various pop culture stores, were connected by an elevated train. You could see the ocean from up on the tracks - and for 25 cents a piece, the kids and I rode that thing. Whenever friends or family came to visit us we'd always do the hike up behind the university of Hawaii. Moanolua? Can't remember the name. But it led through the rain forest, a stand of bamboo, and to a beautiful waterfall splashing into a jungle pool. It always felt so good to jump in after that hike. We'd bring hard boiled eggs, rolls, oranges, and usually some m&Ms.
I can remember standing in the kitchen of that first house in Millilani with Sami in the backpack while I cooked dinner and the other four sitting on these GREAT old bar stools we found coloring. I remember my mom giving Paul "Brother Bear" when he turned four - a huge stuffed animal as big as he was. Since he was never gonna have a human brother, it gave him someone to wrestle with! So many great moments of time.
Thanks, mothers of youngin's for reminding me of all the beauty of those days...

Favorite Things

Yes, I am copying cousin Katie's idea here. I'm not a big picture taker though, so unlike her blog, I will not be including photos (if you know me at all you know most of the pictures I have were taken by mom, or Becky, or one of my girls...). Too, many of these "favorites" are not really photographic.

Perhaps one of my most favorite things right now is the (cp)pss meetin' a couple of girlfriends and I hold one of our front porches. (there are annoying dogs in the back yards...) We gather in jammies after kid drop-off and drink coffee and solve the world's problems. Or at least commiserate with one another. It always leaves me with something to contemplate as my friends are wise and funny women. Too, we sometimes have society meetings with Molly and Hanny and their pals in the evening. This adds a whole new level of fun and insight to the group.

Another great pleasure for me is talking to my sister Becky on the cell phone while we do chores "together". Laundry, dishes, floors, dusting... it all seems to fly by when I get the chance to visit with my best friend and laugh and (sometimes)curse, and plan, and reminisce...

I like drinking coffee with Chris in the morning and praying together before he leaves for work each day. The time with the Lord is powerful, because even if for one reason or another we're crossways with each other, there is a safety in the presence of eternal love that enables us to remember we're on the same team. I also like playing backgammon with my hubby - although to be honest, he usually wins!

And, can I just say, I really like my kids this year?? Okay, sounds weird, but the truth is there are some stages of their development that I'm so glaaad are finished! Right now, they are five of the most interesting, sweet, funny, and encouraging people I know. There are rare occasions when all seven of us (and only the seven of us) gather round the table to break bread. And I love it. Usually this happens on an odd school night or Sunday morning brunch... (we try for it at least three times a week - but usually someone or the other of their friends joins us.)

And that's another thing. I really "dig" their friends. (How's that word for a blast from the past??) I like that they're comfortable to drop by for coffee, or pop, or supper, or a movie, or hot tub night... I like that they're each unique and on a quest to discover who they want to be. I am humbled and honored to get to share a small part of the journeys of these amazing individuals.

As I glance back over this list I see that almost every paragraph has something in common - my simple pleasures have a lot to do with conversation. The word in the Bible for this kind of connection is fellowship. And that happens at church, right? So, does that make our home a sanctuary? I do hope so.

About "Drama"

As the mom of four teenage girls and a woman who likes to dissect her own feelings, I've experienced drama of many forms over the past few years. Some of it over clothes, some of it over boys (okay, often over boys), some of it over lunch tables, some of it over sleep overs, sometimes its about friends making bad choices, or making bad choices ourselves, sometimes its about parents (me!) or teachers being too strict or not strict enough, and sometimes it seems like its about nothing at all - girls just get bored.
The one thing that these incidents have in common is emotions gone wild. Like reality tv shows where young women flaunt their every disapointment and the more extreme the reaction the more vindicated they feel, the women (moms and daughters) of a small town sometimes fall prey to the temptation to let everyone know how outraged/hurt/betrayed/angry/martyred/ and most especially, JUSTIFIED they are to their pain.

The thing is, the pain is real. Love runs deep.

The thing is, real women experience deep emotion.

The thing is, we have a choice to make when we're in the midst of an emotional explosion (whether happy or sad).

The thing is, there are appropriate and inappropriate ways to respond to those strong emotions.

So what do we do when a storm of deep feelings sweeps into our hearts and leaves us windblown and unanchored? Or, when a friend comes undone and drags us into the attempt to pull herself together?
I think there are probably as many answers to these questions as there are women to respond. Here's my thoughts:

First, we need to acknowledge that we all need/want/are designed to crave/ acceptance. When, for whatever reason mentioned above or any other issue, we experience loss, it HURTS!

And that pain can cloud our vision. It can drive us to do and say things that we don't really mean, but that allows us to take the focus off our own bleeding for the time it takes to cause someone else to bleed. It can lead us into a depression that skewers everything we look at and makes us believe that we'll never feel "normal" or we'll never be enough, or we'll always be too much...
And when a friend is in the midst of a crisis of the heart it is tempting to come to her side and swing angry words and ugly gossip. It is tempting to try to comfort someone's pain by causing pain...

But that pain can also lead us into a deeper understanding of the human condition and especially the emotion that unites us as women. Ultimately, we do have choices. We can choose to validate ourselves and our friends in the midst of deep emotions. We can choose to affirm each other as women who do struggle and do sometimes make the wrong decision. And we can choose to keep our dignity in the midst of the roil of feelings that sometimes threaten to overwhelm us.

And one more thing. I can't tell you the number of times I have thought, I will never do that. I never COULD do that. But I've learned something. I have the capacity to hurt others. Sometimes on purpose. Sometimes out of my own pain. Someone once said, "Anyone of us, given the same set of circumstances, may respond in the same ugly way..." Humility admits that we've all made our stupid choices that have hurt someone in some way. Responsibility says that I sometimes contribute to my own pain. And dignity allows for me to give grace to those who harm me.

What do you think? How can we as women support each other, express our emotions, but not live life like a reality tv show??

Upon Sydney's 15th Birthday

our 15 year old told us last year that she wanted a purity ring some day. so...

For our dearest and sweetest Sydney upon her 15th Birthday -

Purity is a rare and wonderful thing
But Purity is not about Perfection
Rather, Purity is about the heart.

And you, our darling daughter, have a most
Pure Heart.

In the Bible, David is called
"One after God's Own Heart"
not because he was perfect,
but because he was Pure.

This gift is for your Past and for your Future
It is for every day of the Present...
To Remind you of your youthful innocence,
To Challenge you to keep your
Head on Straight
And to always take you back to
Your First Love,
Jesus

We couldn't be more proud to be your parents!
Happy Birthday!

The Christmas Letter that was never sent...

So. I sit here to write the annual greeting to the dear ones in our lives that have influenced our hearts over the years. What is it that keeps us connected? Some of you we’ve not seen or communicated with except at Christmas for almost a decade. Some of you are precious family members we wish we could see more often. Some are folks that we see around town and wish we had time to know better. And some are part of the dear community of friends with whom we share our daily lives. Regardless of how tenuous the ties are, we always pour over your cards, letters, and/or pictures, hungry to see and hear the news therein.

And I wonder. I wonder about those of you who sent pictures cards with stamped greetings and no messages. I wonder about those of you who wrote handwritten wishes for a happy season. And mostly, I wonder about those of you who sent letters chronicling your family’s victories and successes. And I wonder, because none of us writes at this time of year, about the difficulties. The private heartaches, the disappointments, the dreams that died slow deaths, the frustration of habits not broken, of resolutions not kept.

And as I sit here, pondering, I catch a glimpse of hope. Because reported or not, I know that each of us has experienced the sadness of living in a world that is not as it should be. And my heart resonates with the truth that God, who set it all in motion, who mourns with us over our brokenness, has found a way to set us free to grow into joy, into peace, and most of all into love.

Many of you may have read the book, Blue Like Jazz. In it Donald Miller tells of hearing a Navy Seal story about the dramatic rescue of hostages. When the soldiers noisily burst through the doors of the prison where the captives had been held for long years they came across a group of silent and bewildered people. A couple of the ragged group became angry and hostile. Unable to believe that the Americans were truly there to rescue them, they refused to follow their would-be heroes to freedom and instead, lay on the floor, cowering or cursing. Finally, one of the Seals had an idea. He put aside his weapon, quietly joined them on the cold concrete, and gazed gently into their eyes. After a time, the inmates began to trust him. When he calmly rose up and walked through the iron bars that had caged them for so long, the broken ones followed him to liberty.

This is the point that the author’s story ends. But I like to imagine what happened to those prisoners as they grappled with new-found freedom. I speculate about the times that they forgot that they no longer had to cower or curse in the face of oppression. I’m curious about the ones who sometimes longed for the safety of the cell over the daunting decisions of independence. And I consider myself to be one of them.

For many years, I made my goal in life to be “right”. I wanted to live the “right” way. It’s a noble goal, when you think about it, and in some ways it is a prison. But you know, I was born and raised in a spiritual home. I was Christian high school and college educated. I attended church regularly, taught Sunday school and started Bible Studies. I sang on worship teams, and went on missions trips. Eventually, I even attained a Master’s degree in ministry. I was encapsulated in a bubble that had me believing that I was part of the “us”, and most others were “them”. But the apostle Paul tells me, that “it's clear enough, isn't it, that we're sinners, every one of us, in the same sinking boat with everybody else? Our involvement with God's revelation doesn't put us right with God. What it does is force us to face our complicity in everyone else's sin.” With all the effort I put into my “involvement with God’s revelation” I missed out on something. The most important thing, the reason why we can’t wait to get your correspondence each year, is lost in the all consuming drive to be right.

Recently, Paul and I and one of his friends were talking about all of the wrongs in our world today. We talked about what the government should do, how the banks need to respond to the economic crisis, and how NATO could promote more peace on the planet. And then we began to talk about how change happens in society. And we decided that it must start with individual hearts, choosing love, choosing repentance, choosing humility, choosing kindness. The idea that came to us is that by trying to live life to be “right” we cannot always love. But in trying to live life to love, we can always be “right”.

And I realize, as I gaze back over the past twelve months that only by the Grace of God is that kind of love possible. Only when we are wooed by his kindness and compassion can we recognize the state of bondage we are in and only as we receive the incredible love He has for us can we possibly be free to accept the state that others are in without judgment or compromise.

And again, the apostle Paul reminds me: “It is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life. Just make sure that you don't use this freedom as an excuse to do whatever you want to do and destroy your freedom. Rather, use your freedom to serve one another in love; that's how freedom grows. For everything we know about God's Word is summed up in a single sentence: Love others as you love yourself. That's an act of true freedom.” As I look at all of the beautiful pictures and read of the victories in your lives, it is tempting to think that none of you has known hardship this year, or struggled with doubt, or sinned knowingly.

And then, at the end of Galatians 5 I read, “Since this is the kind of life we have chosen, the life of the Spirit, let us make sure that we do not just hold it as an idea in our heads or a sentiment in our hearts, but work out its implications in every detail of our lives. That means we will not compare ourselves with each other as if one of us were better and another worse. We have far more interesting things to do with our lives. Each of us is an original.” And that hope of shared life in the Spirit stirs in my heart and emboldens me to share our original stories from 2008.

Paridigm Shift

What does it look like to love? I think it has to do with acceptance. With leaving space for people to be who they are and not rejecting them for the not fun parts. Perhaps within families, where expectations and selfishness run the highest it is most difficult to remember that space. Part of love is humility. It is recognizing that given the same set of circumstances we may respond the same way. How often have I measured someone else actions with the thought: "I would certainly never do that!"? Too many to count. And living in the same household with five teenagers and their wild assortment of friends, it is tempting to pass judgments right and left.
Not to say that there is no room for discernment and boundaries and accountability. But just to point out to myself, again, that nothing we do or do not do can ever make God love us anymore. So therefore, should it be that nothing they do or do not do can ever make me love them anymore? Often, I confess, this is not the case. I find my level of affection for my kiddos tends to rise and fall in direct correlation with the choices they make. I think this is tied to how much I am feeling at the moment that who they are is a reflection of who I am. It's pretty easy to get caught up in wanting them to be something so that I will feel good about myself as a mom. Or not wanting them to do something so that I won't have to feel guilty or responsible for their choices.
(Oh man, just re-reading this gives me pause about being so darn honest in my own insecurity and shortcomings. Oh well - not that many read this anyway! And those who do will, I hope, understand my heart)
Here's the thing. God loves me. In spite of my many shortcomings - he actually likes me. And the more I can open my heart up to receive the fondness he has for me, the more I can allow genuine fondness for my great kids and their fantastic friends to spill over into their hearts. The farther away from the "tree of the knowledge of good and evil" I go, and the closer to authentic relationship I grow the less I have to worry about condemnation - of them or me.
It's taken me years and years of living under the chilly cloud of self-righteous comparison and contempt to begin to catch a glimpse of this other way of doing Christianity. My best friend, Chris, has always understood the preeminence of living out of a place of love. And actually, it has been his love for me in spite of my many betrayals - large and small - that has enabled me to begin the shift toward relationship rather than rules.
SO far to go. But what a blast it is to be learning these lessons in the laboratory of life with the fab five...

Will's Tribute

The following was written by Jonathon Biswell, Will and Paul's best friend. At the funeral he did a beautiful job of reading it aloud to the 1,000 or so people who gathered to say goodbye.

If I could summarize Will using only a few words they would probably be happy, energetic, funny, helpful, and loyal. Will was always there for anybody that needed anything or any help. People loved Will and Will loved people.

Will was always very open with people. He liked to be the center of attention. Will was always very good at making friends. If he was in a room full of people he didn’t know he would make sure he got everyone’s name and everyone’s number. His phone was always going off with either a text message or someone calling him. He always had some stupid ring tone on his phone like Michael Jackson or some other random ring tone; I would always make fun of him for it. Will also stuck out in the crowd. he liked to be different because he loved the attention. Will always knew how to talk to girls, he always had a girl he was talking to but normally it wasn’t just one it was at least two or three.

Mallory was telling me how one day Will called her up and said he had a date that night and he wanted her to pluck his eyebrows. So Will went over to her house and she accidentally took like a chunk out of it. Will was…lets just say…not happy –and he said you better not ever tell anybody about this”

Bethany remembers camping out at Corey’s farm one time with Will and Michelle and Corey. Will was wearing his red boxer shorts with the white hearts on them and Corey’s big boots. He was singing, “I’m a COWBOY, BABY”. He thought he was soooo hot!

Will always lived life to the fullest he never let a day go by without having just a little bit of fun. Will had a strong love for his truck. I remember the day he called me and told me that he sunk his truck, remember calling him an idiot, and I don’t think I ever stopped giving him a hard time for that. Corey remembers how proud Will was to make fun of him when Corey got his truck stuck for the first time.

Every summer Will and I, and sometimes Paul would always drive out to camp paddle trails and jump off the bluffs into the river and just relax and talk about life, girls, and what we were going to do that night. He always lived in the moment. Corey remembers hanging out at the farm with Will and they’d swim, fish and talk about life’s problems. We were like brothers.

Before we would go work out after school, he’d always make us watch his favorite t.v. show….Oprah!

The garage at Will’s house was probably one of his favorite places to be at, he would put up Christmas lights, a boom box, and a heater to make it where everyone else would want to be in there also. There were a lot of fun times in that garage. Will for some reason always liked to sleep on the couch even though he had a nice bed in his room.

Every time we were with Will he always had a big story to tell. And when he would tell a story he would always add a little bit to it to make it more exciting. He always knew how to make people laugh that was one of his biggest qualities, Will used to say “Zach’s not short, he’s fun- size!”

Will was such a loyal friend; we always knew he had our back when we needed him. Anytime my truck was broke down or in the shop he was always there to help me out. One day my truck had a hole in the tire Will and Danny ran me around all day to help me get it fixed.

Anytime Will and I were mad at each other we would probably talk just a little bit about it but we usually didn’t have to say anything and just forget about it. We all have a unique bond with Will…. We are like a family of friends. Someone said yesterday that there were a lot of people who considered Will one of their best friends. Will loved all his friends and always made sure they knew he did.

We all knew that Will loved his family. Michelle remembers how he would always say: “I am WILL! I am Will WASSON!” I can do anything because I am Danny Wasson’s son”. Will had a strong love for his dad. He would always tell me how much he loved fishing with him and how much he loved his cooking. Will loved his mother a lot, he would always tell me how proud he was of her when she got a steady job and lived on her own. Will loved his sister a lot. I know Bryn was more than sister to him - she was also his best friend.

Like most of us here today, Will did grow up going to church. I truly believe Will knew God because we would sometimes talk about God and he told me he believed in him. I know he is in heaven having a good time like he always does. He told me one day that if he ever died he wouldn’t want anyone to be sad because he would be in a better place. So every day we need help to remember that the most important thing is to love. And we can love the best when we know how much God loves us and figure out how to open our hearts up and be able to take it in.

First John 3 says: “let’s not just talk about love; let’s practice real love. This is the only way we’ll know we’re living truly, living in God’s reality. It’s also the way to shut down devastating self-criticism, even when there IS something to it. For God is greater than our worried hearts and knows more about us than we do ourselves. And friends, once that’s taken care of and we’re no longer accusing or condemning ourselves, we’re bold and free before God! We’re able to stretch our hands out and receive what we asked for because we’re doing what he said, doing what pleases Him. Again, this is God’s command: To believe in his personally named Son, Jesus Christ. He told us to love each other… “ Just like Will always made sure we knew he loved us.

I remember when Will called me and told me that he was going to move to Fayetteville. I remember telling him that it would be ok as long as he didn’t make any new best friends, he told me that he wouldn’t, and that he could never replace the friends he has in Siloam. Will, we know you’re up there. Better not find any new best friends while you’re there. Because we know there is no one down here that could replace you. We love you Will and will deeply miss you.

Mourning

Our culture has, in many ways, lost its ability to mourn. Back in the day, when a loved one died, people would rip their clothes, and wail, pour ashes on their heads and walk around in junky old sack cloth. Everybody could see that something had gone very wrong in the world of those left behind. The pain on the inside was exposed on the outside.

These days, we take every precaution not to show too much emotion. We tell ourselves that our loved one would not want us to be sad. Sometimes we think we shouldn't even wear black to a funeral, because that would be too somber. Tranquilizers numb us so that our tears won't slip out and the grief is dulled. The pain on the inside is pushed down and out of sight.

I wonder about the complications of anguished hearts left in the dark.

Of being Free

Our 17 year old friend and surrogate son, Will, died on January 1, 2009. We are all reeling from the shock. Will was one of those kids that, as a sobbing cheerleader told me at the "viewing", "a lot of people thought of as their best friend". At least once a week - and quite often two or three times - he would pop through my front door and shout "Dr. Ruth! What's for supper??" (We told him numerous that I'm not a doctor (yet) but he liked the way it sounded) Will would slide onto a bench and munch out with us. After a cigarette and conversation on the porch he'd be off to visit someone else.

Some days he and Biz would show up even when they knew Paul wasn't home just to sit in the jacuzzi or lay around on the couches and talk. I loved Wild Will Wasson. He would often take a scolding from me about one thing or another that I had heard about from the "mommy grape-vine". Sometimes we would talk about the doubts he had about God and love and pain and addiction and parents and girls and friends and ... . My first thought when we got the call was - "he's free". All of the questions are answered. Perfect love flows around him and through him and fills his very being.

And he is so not here anymore. I had never touched a dead body before this week. It was so cold. And so just a shell. And so not Will. But it was the vehicle that carried around the man-child we loved. So I wept. And I ran my hand over the back of the fresh hair cut. Because that's what I always did when that vehicle was Will.

I have more to say about all of this. But that's it for now.