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From the beginning...

I was born into a Christian family. My earliest years were in a very small house close to my mother's parents. I remember very little, but remember the wallpaper in my bedroom (?)

My parents were married in a church down the street from my grandparent's house and that is the house I remember best.

When I was a year and a half old, my Grandpa Brown (my dad's dad) talked my parents into moving to the farm - where I grew up. We went to a church that my dad and grandpa helped to build. Our house was built on part of the family farm only a few hundred feet from my grandparent's house. I remember the farm animals, cats galore and always a dog or two.

I remember the best of my grandparents - Grandpa was quiet and content, Grandma was sad, but always took care of us. We were in a rural farming community in the Thumb of Michigan, which meant that we frequently lost power in the winter and we were the last to get plowed out. When the power went out, sometime we went to stay with Grandma and Grandpa (the gravity feed furnace didn't need electricity so they stayed warm) and I had my favorite place to sleep on the floor Eventually we figured out that "my spot" was right on top of the gravity feed furnace. Grandma had a chair next to the dining room table...we figured out that it was right next to the chimney, so she had the warmest chair in the house.

Upstairs at my grandma's house was "the porch" - built on a roof, unheated...there was even a space between the floor and the wall where you could see outdoors. But there were a couple of beds for summer sleepover and the walls were lined with bookcases. Lots of books, so I grew up reading. There were lost of cousins around, but no girls my age. My best friends were the Bobsey twins, Trixie Beldon, and Anne of Greene Gables.

My church memories are vague. I have glimpses of VBS, little memories of Wednesday evening prayer meetings. As a child, my dad prayed for me before an oral surgery to take a tumor off of my gum line. When we went to the hospital the next day, the tumor was gone. I sat next to him while he prayed for my mom when she was in the hospital.

My dad was a deacon in that small church for most of my years at home and it never grew beyond under 100 in number (not surprising in a very small town.) The pastors came and went, another came and went.

I never knew a time when my life wasn't grounded in family Christianity, but I don't think the faith was MINE until later on. My parents gave me the foundation, but it had to be the Holy Spirit who built it.

My pastor said this morning..."A church believes what it sings." And I grew up on "Amazing Grace,"

18 years ago, my daughter, Amanda, had a minor ear surgery. We brought her home and I had o rune out to get a prescription filled.

Our cat Blackie had gone missing and since the animal shelter was across the street com the pharmacy, I stopped there while I was waiting on the Rx. They were so short staffed that they weren't keeping animals that owners were dropping off, just putting them to sleep.

There was a couple there with a kid size shoe box, with a tiny tail hanging out. She was crying, but was so allergic...I said, "oh, I'll just take him."

The woman at the counter said, you can't do that IN HERE."

So we went outside and I took this tiny kitten home and he became Amanda's kitty...and we named him after her ear doctor...Henry.

Amanda doesn't remember a time without Henry. He held vigil with me when Amanda's daddy was dying, sitting in his lap for hours at a time.

He spent a little time with me here in the apartment, and was a great balcony cat.

Henry died today. He's had diabetes for 5 years, had eye problems, but Amanda, and her boyfriend, Mike, took good care of him.

Mike was crying, Amanda can't even talk, Tom's a mess and so am I.

Henry will be missed. I ran across my elementary school report cards. Memories, good and bad.

Ellen talks too much, Ellen doesn't talk enough.

Ellen should read more, Ellen needs to leave her books at home.

Ellen needs to participate in discussions, Ellen needs to leave the people around her alone.

Ellen needs to do her homework, Ellen needs to be more organized.

Somehow, shy little Ellen morphed into MzEllen

Few people who know me now would recognize the shy, quiet (and very skinny) girl who was too shy to talk, to participate in games, to have a discussion.

1st grade...I got a new best friend. On her first day, she told me that she was a "n-word" and that's why I told my dad. He spanked me and told me not to ever use that word. Then he asked me who told me that's what she was...well, *she* did. She happened to be Native American, but that's not what she told me.

In 2nd grade, every student took an IQ test. Mine was high enough that they made me take it again...and then once more. Nobody "got" that the shy little thing that wouldn't talk...could be that smart.

3rd grade...ah...this is where my organization (or lack thereof) got me into trouble. It's also the age where kids start seeing "differences" and separating into cliques. And I didn't have a clique. If I was shy before, it got way worse here.

Anyway, those old, yellow report cards represent where I was, WHAT I was...where I am now.

Those social cues I just didn't get, the ability to stay in the "inner circle" - wanting to at least be able to fit with "that crowd," if only for a little while. Maybe not even fit...just be worthy of having them say "hi;" just a little word.

Those report cards, with the hand-written teacher notes on the backs. What made me change? Maybe I'm still shy, I'm just determined to not let it beat me?

I don't know. What I know is that I'm not one of the "farm kids" anymore. I don't have to take an IQ test 3 times.

I still cry when I remember that

I remember the awkward


Three years ago I wrote about "Ancient History" and Mother's Day.

Last week, a well known man (Ernie Harwell) died of the same cancer that killed my husband - a rare and aggressive sort that the oncologist called "pancreatic cancer's evil cousin."

This Mother's Day I'm going to a great brunch with my husband's sisters and my son and daughter.  Yesterday we had a "board game" time with the young man who may very well become my son-in-law.

Time goes on.  Moving on with life brings healing.

I learn that there is an urgency to the Gospel.

In the words of Harwell,

"And also, I think that when I heard the news, that I had this cancer, that I had a feeling of security and serenity ... but I had a feeling of acceptance because of my belief in Jesus and the Lord."

Eight years ago in May we were told that my husband's cancer had returned.  That Wednesday evening we were in church and we sang this song.  His hand clung to mine as we sang...

Truly, He lives...He holds the future.

I still fall, I still fear.  But beyond all that, He lives! I got a card in the mail from the clerk for the board of elders. The pastor was "not able" to be be at the committee meeting on Tuesday so my letter was not even read.

For new readers, here is the start of it.






















