After the Firestorm: Finding Out What Matters Most

The view from our house on July 17, 2014

I've never been so happy to turn a calendar page as I was at the end of August. I flipped the page from August to September, breathing a guarded sigh of relief. Our world has been rocked by the firestorm that blew up on July 17. During the summer and early fall, wildfires are part of life here in hot, dry north central Washington. We've seen the mushroom-cloud smoke plumes that tower skyward. We've witnessed hillsides burning in the distance. The Thirtymile Fire in 2001 seemed relatively insignificant until it raged out-of-control, killing four young firefighters. I remember the somber gathering held at our local high school gym where we paid our respects. This heartbreaking tragedy  caused the forest service to re-evaluate firefighting protocols.

But this year, the Carlton Complex Fire became the largest fire in Washington state history, burning more than 250,000 acres. Long-time residents say they've never seen anything like it. Unlike other fires, this one destroyed homes--more than 300 at last count. These are friends and neighbors who have lost everything. I can't imagine where you begin to start over. The fire, ignited by a lightning strike near Carlton, traveled more than 25 miles in less than 8 hours to burn hundreds of homes near Pateros. People barely had time to evacuate. It's nothing short of a miracle that no lives were lost that night and in the following days and weeks.

We were without power and water for 10 days in the area where I live. Others "camped" without electricity for almost 3 weeks. Everyone has been affected by the stress of living on high alert--not knowing if and when you'll have to evacuate or if a new fire will be ignited by lightning or something as random as a tire rim from a flat tire creating sparks. And if the fires weren't bad enough, mudslides caused by heavy rain and flash flooding several weeks later, washed out roads and destroyed more homes. It's hard to wrap my mind around the devastation.

Yet in the midst of  disaster, you can't help but notice the bright spots. I think of the hardworking heroes who have given so much to our communities...the firefighters who relentlessly dug fire lines in 100 degree weather, the local PUD joined by other utility companies who worked 16-hour days to get the power on, Red Cross volunteers who came to lend a hand or a shoulder to cry on. Community centers and schools were transformed into shelters staffed by volunteers. Almost immediately, donations of supplies poured in. A statement said they couldn't accept any more donations. There simply wasn't room.

A benefit, "Blues for the Burn," was sponsored by the organizers of the popular summer Rhythm & Blues Festival. More than 400 people enjoyed an evening of music and dancing. Many came from out-of-town, wanting to support the beautiful Methow Valley and those who have lost so much. All proceeds went to our local food bank/charitable organization, "The Cove," who will distribute the funds. I'm amazed and moved by the generosity of our community.

In September, I had the privilege of helping at a fire relief clothing event sponsored by The Heart of CAbi Foundation and Independent CAbi Consultants. More than 90 women who had lost all their personal clothing in the fires or mudslides came to "shop" for brand new designer clothing--except they didn't need any shopping dollars. CAbi, a clothing company, donated 1,000 items of clothing. Each woman who attended went home with at least 10 free new outfits. I stood by to offer coffee, muffins, scones, and sandwiches--but most important, I listened to their stories of loss, gave hugs, and even helped dry some tears. 

It seems like disasters, whether natural events, or tragedies like 9/11, tend to draw people together. Suddenly we're shoulder-to-shoulder, ready to help and encourage others wherever we can. Even though I pray we never have another summer like this one, I'm grateful for the overwhelming support we've received--and for this reminder:

The things that matter the most in this world, they can never be held in our hand. –Gloria Gaither
  
I've had a first-hand glimpse of this through those in our community who are bravely moving forward after losing so much.
       
      

What I've Learned through a Lifetime of Marriage

My husband Randy and I recently celebrated 44 years of marriage.

Our anniversary celebration at Steak 'N Shake

Wow--how can that be possible when we're only 30+ years old? Well... we haven't been that age for a long time, but it's still hard to imagine we've spent most of a lifetime together.

When we first got married, I had this naive notion that all we needed was love. Da...da...da...da... da....All you need is love...All together now...When I hear those words, I automatically want to burst into song. Never mind about the misunderstandings and the immaturity of two 19 year-olds who are going to become parents before their first anniversary. As long as we have love, we will stay together. Wasn't that also a song? Love will keep us together. If only it were that simple.

We do need love, but not the kind Hollywood portrays or most of us envision. I remember seeing the movie Love Story with Randy when we were dating. Ryan O'Neal and Ali MacGraw (can you believe she's 75?) looked deeply into each other's eyes and proclaimed, Love means never having to say you're sorry.

How sweet (and unrealistic) is that? But that's the love I was looking for...where romantic feelings never fade and you sail off together as best friends and lovers without a disagreement or ever raising your voice or crying yourself to sleep.

After 44 years and weathering many marital ups and downs, I've learned a lot about real-life relationships:

• There's no such thing as 50/50 in marriage. Many times you'll be the one giving more than you bargained for. It would be nice if everything were split neatly in half. The reality is that each of you will be called on at different times to give more than your share. It's also good not to keep score.   

• Recognize the myth of the greener grass. It's possible there is "greener grass," but many of us see the grass and want to vault over the fence without considering the costs. The repercussions of an affair are devastating for everyone. Two families are directly affected, as well as extended family and friends. Life is never the same after trust in a marriage has been broken. God can heal and bring reconciliation, but the price paid is excruciatingly high.

• Love the one you're with. What would happen if you intentionally treated your spouse as if you really loved him/her? Not the Love Story type of love, but love that's patient, kind, steadfast in sickness and in health, in good times and bad times. God's kind of love that never fails.  

Randy and I have been blessed to experience this love in our marriage. It didn't come naturally, though. It took a lot of pain and struggle and heartache. We both realized the ability to love well was only possible if we were willing to get beyond our selfishness. As we experienced God's grace, we were then able to begin to love each other unconditionally. Not perfectly, but in a way that says I want the best for you. I'm willing to do whatever I can to encourage you, to build you up, to help you become the person God created you to be.

And guess what? I found out I married the right guy-- the one who has been God's gift to me for almost a lifetime. And yes, we've learned that saying you're sorry is at the top of the list!

If you're struggling to love your spouse, there is hope! Small acts of kindness can be a good starting place. I would love to pray with you and encourage you to believe that God's love never fails. 

 

        








  

A Tribute to my Friend: A Life Well-Lived

Doris was the first person I met in the community where I've lived for almost 18 years. She passed away in May at the age of 92.  I chided myself for not visiting more during her last months. Doris suffered from dementia and other ailments, so I'm not sure she completely recognized me when I did come to see her. I could have done more, I thought. I felt better after writing a sympathy note to one of her daughters. Knowing Doris, I was convinced she wouldn't want me to spend time or energy feeling guilty. Doris wasn't like that...she lived her life to the fullest and didn't keep a record of offenses.

I met Doris at the Thursday night Al-Anon meeting at the "The Barn," the local gathering place in our small town. I was a newcomer when I hesitantly entered the cavernous building and walked to the small back room, "The Hen House," where weekly meetings were held. I instantly felt like I belonged.

That's the way it is with Al-Anon. No matter where you go, there's a sense of connection and support. All those years ago when I was dealing with my husband Randy's alcoholism, it felt good to find a place where I was accepted and understood. Doris was so good at that. She had a quiet way about her as she shared her own story; her experience and hope. Somehow it was hard to believe that she'd ever felt as stressed or had been an emotional basket case like me. She assured me she had been exactly where I was... and that if I kept coming back, I'd also make my way through to a more positive place.

Every time Randy and I left the city and came over the mountains from Seattle, I made it a point to show up at the Al-Anon meeting. I can't remember a time when Doris wasn't there. Her faithful presence gave me courage and helped me decide to move to the Methow Valley with Randy several years later, in spite of his tenuous sobriety. I knew I would never be alone--no matter what happened.  

There are people who come into our lives and we are never the same. Doris was one of those special friends who gently and profoundly touched my life simply by living hers. When she became too frail to live on her own, her family moved her into a group home in another town several hours from here. Last fall, they brought her home to the valley she loved to live out her final days. I miss Doris--but I know she completed the work God had given her. The same work I feel privileged to pass on to others who are struggling in much the same way as I did.

If you're feeling in despair because someone you love has a drinking problem, why not try out an Al-Anon meeting? I can almost guarantee you will find a Doris there who will help change your life. 

What I can give is never as much as I get from the giving. ~ Al-Anon Family Group

Girl Rising: Don't Miss this Inspiring Film

My husband Randy and I attended a screening of the stunning film Girl Rising the other night.

Produced by Paul Allen and several businesses  that have partnered through 10x10, a global action campaign to promote girls' education, Girl Rising is a must-see.

We can know in our heads that girls are mistreated and abused in many developing countries. It's something different to get that message shot like an arrow through your heart. That's how I felt while watching  this film. Compelling stories of nine extraordinary girls from nine different countries are told. Their message is powerful: Educate girls and you will change the world. 

My friend who organized the screening of this on-demand film in our community, reminded me to bring Kleenex. Of course, she was right. One of the girls whose story was featured, was sold by her parents into an arranged marriage at the age of 11 or 12--an all-too common practice. Her parents felt convinced that this was best  to ensure a secure future for their daughter. The dowry was $5,000--money that was later used to buy a used pick-up truck for the girl's older brother. In another story, a young woman sobbed during childbirth because she had given birth to a baby girl and not a son. Girls aren't worth much in many cultures. What a tragedy!

But the message of this film isn't simply to play on your heart-strings. These nine girls have been empowered to make courageous choices...sometimes dangerous choices...to stand up and have a voice, to become educated and pass that hope along to other girls. Hope is embodied in each of their lives. One girl with courage is a revolution, says a quote on the Girl Rising website.   

I came away from this film determined to do more to help educate impoverished girls. I also felt overwhelmed with gratitude. I was born into a family in the United States where I was cherished as a little girl. It was a given--I went to school. Every day for twelve years and then some, my parents and teachers encouraged me to learn...not only during childhood but for a lifetime.

Considering the world's population, only a few of us are this fortunate. With the help and generosity of concerned businesses: Intel Corporation, Vulcan Productions, The Documentary Group, CNN Films, and partners: Care, Girl Up, A New Day Cambodia, Partners in Health, Plan, Room to Read, and World Vision, the message of Girl Rising is changing girls' lives.

I hope you'll take time to check out their message and watch the movie trailer--and perhaps host a screening of this film in your community. You'll be glad you did.  

A Place Called Blessing

I admit I'm a slow reader. Mostly because I wait until bedtime to crack open the latest book I'm reading. I usually don't get far before my head is nodding and my husband nudges me and asks, "Are you asleep?"

When I read A Place Called Blessing, by Dr. John Trent (co-author with Gary Smalley of The Blessing), I not only stayed awake, I kept turning pages. The story is compelling. A young boy, Josh, experiences a series of tragic events in his life. His parents (who haven't done a great job taking care of their children) are killed in a drunk-driving accident. Josh and his two older brothers are thrust into the foster care system. As long as they're together, even the least desirable of homes is bearable. The unthinkable happens, though, and Josh is separated from his brothers. They are adopted by a family who chooses not to adopt Josh. His life is marked by rejection and abandonment.

By age eighteen, Josh is an angry young man who only wants to be left alone. He's determined not to ever need or trust  anyone. He vows to make it through life on his own. That is, until he meets a co-worker, Mike, who genuinely seems to care about Josh. Mike's mom, Anna, has a room for rent, and Josh agrees to move in. Anna and Mike offer Josh the gift of "the blessing"--their unconditional love and support. And that is  life-changing.  

As I read Dr. Trent's book, I kept wondering when the hurting would stop. I felt sad by the unfairness of life.What struck me, though, was realizing how even one person who "blesses" another's life, can make a huge impact. Josh's relationship with Anna and Mike gave him the opportunity to choose a healthier direction for his life. 

A Place Called Blessing inspires readers to consider how they can make a difference for others. Giving the gift of "the blessing" is truly where hurting ends and love begins.    

Keep Calm and Carry On!

Not long ago, I was browsing through Nordstrom's with some friends. A tee-shirt with a slogan printed on it, Keep Calm and Carry On, caught my eye. What great words of encouragement and wisdom. Simple, but profound.

I was curious about this pithy statement and looked it up online. I found out the British government produced three morale-boosting posters at the onset of World War II in 1939. The first two posters, Your Courage, Your Cheerfulness, Your Resolution will Bring Victory and Freedom is in Peril were posted on public transport, in shop windows and on notice boards. The Keep Calm and Carry On poster was to be issued only if Britain was invaded by Germany. Since this never happened, the poster was never officially seen by the public. It is believed most of the Keep Calm posters were destroyed at the end of the war, in 1945. Some 60 years later, a bookseller found a poster in a pile of old books purchased at an auction. The straight-forward/to-the-point message has been revived and graces tee-shirts, mugs, stationery, and other memorabilia.

It's good advice--especially in times of duress and uncertainty. Keep Calm and Carry On is reassuring when the cost of living continues climbing, but incomes remain the same, or even more distressing, when jobs disappear, leaving thousands of people unemployed. Random acts of nature have occurred this year with a vengeance as unprecedented tornadoes, floods, earthquakes and tsunamis have wreaked havoc on communities and countries. It's helpful to be reminded to put one foot in front of the other and not give in to panic.

I've experienced a number of times in my life, when Keep Calm and Carry On could have been my mantra. For me, it's much more than a stoic determination to do this in my own strength. I realize the One who keeps me calm and gives me strength to carry on is Jesus Christ. A verse from the book of Philippians says: Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

I appreciate the succinctness of this British slogan now making a comeback, but I'm thankful we aren't left alone to carry on.

How about you? How do you keep on keeping on?

After the Storm

I grew up in Iowa where the threat of tornadoes in the spring and summer seemed

terrifying. Even though a twister never touched down in our small town while I lived there, the reality of a disaster wasn't simply paranoia. Most residents of Grinnell, Iowa knew that a tornado had nearly destroyed the town in the late 1800s. I remember running for the basement on more than one occasion and having nightmares that I couldn't get there in time, that my rubbery legs wouldn't be strong enough to carry me. Knowing that my mom kept watch on nights when tornado warnings had been issued brought some relief to my fears.

If that wasn't enough, we experienced the anxiety of a potential nuclear disaster with the Cuban Missile Crisis in the early 1960s. As a 4th grader, I didn't understand the gravity of the situation, but hearing talk about bomb shelters and practicing air raid drills where we crawled under our desks at school, gave me cause for alarm. I recall a tense three or four days with a verbal showdown between President Kennedy and Nikita Khrushchev. Still, I felt some reassurance knowing the grownups were handling the situation.

In the aftermath of the horrific disaster in Japan and the escalating crises in the Middle East, I have felt like that frightened 10-year old. Now I'm the grown-up..and frankly, there isn't any solace in looking to others to work everything out.

The other day, a comment on a blog about the potential of another economic collapse said, Everything will be all right. It always is. The sun will come up tomorrow. Whether or not there will be an economic collapse isn't the point. Saying that everything will be all right is misguided and naive. It isn't all right for thousands of people who have lost jobs and homes. It isn't all right for survivors of the devastation in Japan, even though the sun is still rising. Frightening, tragic events do happen.

At times like this, I know the antidote for fear is growing deeper in my faith. The crux of my Christian faith is belief that even if bad, perplexing events happen in life, events that literally shake my whole belief system, God is still faithful. I've found comfort, as always, in God's Word.

Romans 8 asks the important questions:

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?

...No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

In these days of uncertainty, I pray we will draw closer to the One who never changes--and find comfort and peace in His presence. And in that sense, everything is all right.

Couples Who Pray: The Most Intimate Act Between a Man and a Woman by SQuire Rushnell and Louise DuArt

WARNING: This book will change your marriage! That's the disclaimer on the back

cover of Couples Who Pray by husband and wife, SQuire Rushnell and Louise DuArt. The authors present convincing research by Baylor University, Gallup, and the compelling stories of 24 test couples who have taken The 40 Day Prayer Challenge, that couples who pray together do stay together! Not only that--they experience greater satisfaction in their relationships than their non-praying counterparts. All it takes is a commitment to pray together for a minimum of five minutes each day.

When I received my copy of Couples Who Pray, I read the first sentence from the introduction to my husband. Men--most of you will want to know that the most intimate act between a man and a woman will greatly enhance the frequency and ecstasy of lovemaking. I have to admit, that statement piqued my interest. My husband said, When can we start?

We joked at first, but we have sincerely been reading this book as a couple, and feel challenged and inspired to pray together--not just at mealtimes or when we're nodding off after our heads hit the pillows at night. Like the couples who tell their stories throughout the book, we're finding a deeper level of intimacy growing between us when we take time to pray.

This book is entertaining and easy to read. Several couples who share their stories are celebrities: Denzel and Pauletta Washington, Scott and Tracie Hamilton, and Bruce Sudano and Donna Summer. While I've enjoyed reading about their lives and their solid commitment to their marriages (how refreshing!), I have also found it somewhat difficult to relate to their circumstances. However, the authors do include other couples who represent a more mainstream lifestyle.

I really like the premise of this book, but I would have appreciated more biblical depth to avoid being formulaic. If you pray together 5 minutes each day, your marriage will be fabulous! Sometimes it just isn't that easy.

If the Shoe Fits

I've been thinking about shoes a lot lately. My massage therapist had been hounding me about seeing a physical therapist who specializes in foot problems--and helping you become more balanced with solid support from your feet on up. So I finally made the appointment--and I now have confirmation. I'm officially unbalanced!

But it all makes sense to me. Without a solid, balanced base to work with, you can develop tons of other problems--sore knees and backaches for starters. You don't move as efficiently. The P.T. told me my feet are so lacking in proper support, that it's as if I've been walking in sand all my life. Now this isn't totally new for me. I was diagnosed with flat feet when I was a kid. The podiatrist sentenced me to wearing those dreaded orthopedic shoes for what seemed like a lifetime. I wore saddle shoes when all my friends had those cute slip-ons. Plus, I'm convinced I was born with size 9's. What's up with all the shoe store samples   looking like they could fit a 10 year-old?

I think life is a bit like shoes. Especially in the area of relationships. When Randy and I were going through the worst times in our marriage, I would have gladly squeezed my size nine foot into a diminutive glass shoe if he could have been transformed into my Prince Charming--or better yet, I could have clicked my heels several times in Dorothy's ruby red slippers, and been whisked away from the pain and struggle to a much happier place.

Maybe you can relate. You've been struggling along in life, exhausted by walking in sand, or slogging through thigh-high mud in hip-waders. You wonder how you will step through another day, not to mention a lifetime. If only those ruby slippers were an option...

And even though they're not, I'm amazed when I look back and see how God helped me take off the shoes that hindered my progress. He gave me solid support so I could walk through some tough situations into a healthier place. One small step at a time.

So it's back to orthopedic shoes for me. My physical therapist made inserts for my shoes to give me balance and support. (Though I have to admit my new shoes are much cuter than the saddles shoes of yesteryear). My knees and back feel better, and because I'm no longer "walking in sand," I surprisingly have more energy. Happy feet are a good thing! 

I love the promise of Romans 5:3-5:  

There's more to come: We continue to shout our praises even when we're hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we're never left feeling shortchanged. Quite the contrary--we can't round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit!  (The Message)

So I hope you'll join me on the journey. Take off the hip-waders--and try on some new shoes. Slip your feet into something more comfortable and possibly more stylish, too. Get ready for some serious walking. Each step you take, even the smallest ones, will lead you to a new place, maybe one you've never visited before: A place called hope.

THE DAY AFTER

Impossible. I'm sure that's the word Jesus' followers could barely bring themselves to whisper the day after his crucifixion. How did this happen? He promised never to leave us, they said, though they recalled he often talked about events they didn't understand. He had predicted his death, and chastised Peter when he said, Never, Lord. This shall never happen to you. But it did.

Now it's the day after. Jesus is dead. He raised others back to life. Why couldn't he prevent his own death? Joseph, the rich man from Arimathea, had taken Jesus' body, wrapped it in a linen cloth, then placed the body in his own new tomb. It was over. Three years of extraordinary days spent with this simple carpenter by trade had changed them forever. And now he was gone...or was he?

Of course, we know the end of the story. The empty tomb discovered by Mary Magdalene and the other Mary at dawn the next day has left implications for all generations to ponder.

So often in my own life, I feel as if I'm facing "the day after." No hope, no way things could ever work out. But then there's the promise of Easter and the irrefutable evidence of an empty tomb. The one you are looking for is not here. He has risen just as he said. Unbelievable!

I think of my 17 -year old niece in a group home in the Midwest. It's the "day after" in her short life of rebellion, anger, and disappointment. And for my brother who turns 48 next month, homeless and living on the street, addicted to drugs and alcohol for many years, it certainly must seem like the "day after" for him. What hope is there for those who are hopeless?

I listened to Chip Ingram's Living on the Edge radio broadcast the other day. I scribbled notes as fast as I could, I was so moved by his discussion about hope. He used the book of Philippians as his reference, the writings of the Apostle Paul from his prison cell. Chip said, as best as I can transcribe:

Hope is the anchor of our souls, the absolute certainty that God's deliverance is certain. He will give you exactly what you need to handle your situation in a God-honoring way. He will give you sufficient courage. He will deliver you through your circumstances, out of a situation, or ultimately to himself. The answer to your problem is not a solution. The answer to your problem is a person, Jesus Christ.

I called my niece on her birthday a few weeks ago. There's hope! I told her, no matter what your circumstances look like. I'm not sure she believed me, but I pray she'll think of my words and begin to believe that maybe, just maybe there's a way through tough times. I will call her again soon to gently remind her.

My brother is now in a halfway house, his first time in a treatment program. He's court ordered to be there, but I see this as Divine intervention in his life. I sent him an Easter card and wrote, There's hope! I pray he will see a glimmer and wonder that these events might have been orchestrated by a Power greater than himself.

Yes, this is the day after. But I know the rest of the story and I rejoice. He is risen!

Blessed Easter!

Deb

IN ABSENTIA

Yep, I'm the one who's still writing Christmas cards in March, the one, who even though I love to write, still struggles with sitting down and looking at the blank computer screen, or putting pen to paper to keep in touch with those near and dear. What to write, I wonder?

A number of years ago, I came across a book of meditations for writers, Walking on Alligators, by Susan Shaugnessy. The title itself made me realize I'm not alone in my procrastinating habits when it comes to writing, and how difficult it can be to write. Walking on the backs of alligators might be easier!

Shaugnessy quotes author Beth Henley who won a Pulitzer Prize at 28 for her play, Crimes of the Heart.

I love to work, although sometimes I can spend whole days doing nothing more than picking the lint off the carpet and talking to my mother on the phone.

That's my sentiment exactly. I do love to work on writing projects, but I'm easily distracted. In addition to picking lint off the carpet, now I have the temptation to socialize on Facebook and Twitter! What's a writer to do?

I suspect it's the "D" word, one that's always tough for me. Discipline. Just do it... simple but profound. I'm turning over a new leaf, as my mother would say when I was a kid. After a particularly trying day, at bedtime when she tucked me in, she'd gently say, "It's O.K., Deb. Tomorrow you can turn over a new leaf."

Ah, how comforting and reassuring. There's always a place to start out fresh again. Whether it's writing or relating to others, each day offers a new beginning. I have always appreciated the encouragement of a Bible verse, Philippians 4:13: I can do all things in Christ who strengthens me. Sometimes, I can't manage in my own strength. I'm thankful I don't have to.

So I'm back after a long hiatus from blog writing. My goal is to write once each week, on Friday or Saturday, so I hope you'll join me as I report on life in our rural corner of the world, and write (prayerfully) some real hope for real life.

Blessings,

Deb