My son broke his elbow. Just like that. One day he was fine and the next he had a cast. I've never broken anything and the word broke, just sounds so painful and ruined. In reality though, he is fine now too. It's not hurting him and it will heal. Kids break bones growing up.
Someone asked me if he got enough calcium. Sometimes I think it's my fault that his elbow is broken. That I didn't feed him right making his bones fragile and brittle. I suppose logic should tell me that's probably not true because of all the times he has fallen and not broken anything, still I wonder.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Plans Change
My sister-in-law once said that in some ways it's harder for us missing Danny than for her. She went on to explain that she could get married again, but we won't be getting another son or another brother. Personally if I had a choice between losing a brother and a husband, I would choose a brother. But then, of course it's pointless to compare pain anyways, because that doesn't lead to compassion or help.
I miss my brother.
Yesterday must have been a good day for my sister-in-law because she wrote about the excitement of some day dating again. I sit here and I feel no excitement. I would be very glad for my neices and nephews to grow up with a dad, and I don't want Liisa to be lonely. I wish it could be my brother.
Sometimes I think about the plans Eric and I have made and wonder what I would do if he died. If he dies while I am still in the east, would I move west? I would still want to go, but I would be absolutely crazy to go. Maybe I wouldn't even want to. Who leaves a place surrounded with friends and support and travels to the middle of nowhere -- where they don't know anyone -- in the middle of a crisis. I would have to go where I didn't know anyone or they might feel like they had to take care of me and the boys. Then I would have to learn how to do everything for myself.
What would I do for income? Who could I trust to watch the boys if I needed to go somewhere? This is a crazy idea.
Realistically when someone dies your whole life changes. Even what you thought you wanted changes.
That reminds me of a song.
Yesterday's gone Sweet Jesus,
And tomorrow may never be mine.
Lord, for my sake, teach me to take,
One day at a time.
I miss my brother.
Yesterday must have been a good day for my sister-in-law because she wrote about the excitement of some day dating again. I sit here and I feel no excitement. I would be very glad for my neices and nephews to grow up with a dad, and I don't want Liisa to be lonely. I wish it could be my brother.
Sometimes I think about the plans Eric and I have made and wonder what I would do if he died. If he dies while I am still in the east, would I move west? I would still want to go, but I would be absolutely crazy to go. Maybe I wouldn't even want to. Who leaves a place surrounded with friends and support and travels to the middle of nowhere -- where they don't know anyone -- in the middle of a crisis. I would have to go where I didn't know anyone or they might feel like they had to take care of me and the boys. Then I would have to learn how to do everything for myself.
What would I do for income? Who could I trust to watch the boys if I needed to go somewhere? This is a crazy idea.
Realistically when someone dies your whole life changes. Even what you thought you wanted changes.
That reminds me of a song.
Yesterday's gone Sweet Jesus,
And tomorrow may never be mine.
Lord, for my sake, teach me to take,
One day at a time.
Moving to the Swamp
So my husband sent a letter to his brother asking for some advice.
He writes...
Shari's uncle, Phil, wants to create an air conditioning system that uses ground water to cool instead of a refrigerant. The whole system should be able to cool a house using far less energy than an typical air conditioner and cost much less in parts and installation. Phil wants to build, test, and franchise the system. (This is not a new concept really - just not being done using low-end conventional parts making it affordable for the average homeowner.)
Phil has proposed that I come to Florida, perhaps for a year, and oversee the construction on his rural 20 acres of the building we would use to test the air conditioning units. (We would need to build a small building in order to properly test the unit). Once the building and testing are complete he wants to frame another house on a different property he owns and try to sell it. He has workers but they need oversight since they aren't always reliable so he has asked if I would be willing to do this.
In return...
He will pay enough potentially to end the year debt free with some money in the bank.
But...
We will live in a half-finished mobile home in alligator land with a neighbor who is anti-social. Now by anti-social I mean he shoots first and doesn't ask questions. He once shot at the tow truck drivers Phil hired to tow one of his old trucks off the property. Perhaps this an understandable mistake, seeing that a couple nights earlier some kids did try to steal the tires off the truck. He shot at them too. He succeeded in scaring them off -- at least until they could gather a lot more help. Apparently they believed that with greater numbers if some went down with bullet wounds there would still be others to finish the job and get the tires.
We will have a pond on the property with plenty of water moccasins (the worlds' most poisonous snakes) and Phil says that he and his wife have only been bitten by scorpions a couple of times. There's no need to be concerned about the snakes though -- just mow the grass a lot. It's normal to mow over some snakes which is good because the ones that get out of the way are the non-poisonous kind who are much quicker and eat the poisonous kind that happen to survive the lawnmower.
On the plus side we hear that most of the poisonous snakes were burned up in the fire the neighbor started when he decided he wanted to have a bonfire during a drought when there was a ban on all fires. He burned down the neighborhood's trees (and his own trailer and truck) and then fled under death threats from the other neighbors. Some of them were counting on the lumber value of the trees now destroyed as their retirement fund. The local police officers advised the guy who burned down the trees that he really should run if he valued his life.
Good did come from the fire though. It caused a type of plant commonly thought of as a weed in the area to produce fruit; which they discovered was worth $2.50 per pound as a supplemental herb. Because of the drought most other sources for this fruit weren't producing, but the burned neighborhood had thousands of pounds. So Phil purchased a trailer and agreed to haul this fruit to the purchasing factory if the people in the neighborhood would simply harvest the fruit and dump it into the trailer. They would have profited nicely except that no one bothered to harvest it because it was too much work to get off the couch. (Although my wife says the diamond back rattlesnakes that hide under those bushes would have deterred her.)
One of the guys I would be overseeing is named Bubba. He's a really good worker I am told, if he feels like working. Sometimes he doesn't, because he's one of the 70 percent of males unemployed in the area. Why bother with work once you have enough for beer? And why bother with meals when beer has calories anyway?
Of course I could always drive into town if I get bored and see the beautiful Panama City who's entire industry is built around the couple weeks of the year when college kids come to get stone drunk and naked and cops never enforce underage drinking laws since that would hurt the local economy. When you walk into the grocery stores the first thing you see is a mountain of beer stacked for your convenience since their beer sales might plummet if people had to walk any farther than the front entrance to get it. Besides that there are plenty of local sources readily available since most people have an uncle with distilleries anyway.
Okay, so Phil swears he has never seen an alligator on the property - and the neighbors rarely see them either.
So what do you think?
He writes...
Shari's uncle, Phil, wants to create an air conditioning system that uses ground water to cool instead of a refrigerant. The whole system should be able to cool a house using far less energy than an typical air conditioner and cost much less in parts and installation. Phil wants to build, test, and franchise the system. (This is not a new concept really - just not being done using low-end conventional parts making it affordable for the average homeowner.)
Phil has proposed that I come to Florida, perhaps for a year, and oversee the construction on his rural 20 acres of the building we would use to test the air conditioning units. (We would need to build a small building in order to properly test the unit). Once the building and testing are complete he wants to frame another house on a different property he owns and try to sell it. He has workers but they need oversight since they aren't always reliable so he has asked if I would be willing to do this.
In return...
He will pay enough potentially to end the year debt free with some money in the bank.
But...
We will live in a half-finished mobile home in alligator land with a neighbor who is anti-social. Now by anti-social I mean he shoots first and doesn't ask questions. He once shot at the tow truck drivers Phil hired to tow one of his old trucks off the property. Perhaps this an understandable mistake, seeing that a couple nights earlier some kids did try to steal the tires off the truck. He shot at them too. He succeeded in scaring them off -- at least until they could gather a lot more help. Apparently they believed that with greater numbers if some went down with bullet wounds there would still be others to finish the job and get the tires.
We will have a pond on the property with plenty of water moccasins (the worlds' most poisonous snakes) and Phil says that he and his wife have only been bitten by scorpions a couple of times. There's no need to be concerned about the snakes though -- just mow the grass a lot. It's normal to mow over some snakes which is good because the ones that get out of the way are the non-poisonous kind who are much quicker and eat the poisonous kind that happen to survive the lawnmower.
On the plus side we hear that most of the poisonous snakes were burned up in the fire the neighbor started when he decided he wanted to have a bonfire during a drought when there was a ban on all fires. He burned down the neighborhood's trees (and his own trailer and truck) and then fled under death threats from the other neighbors. Some of them were counting on the lumber value of the trees now destroyed as their retirement fund. The local police officers advised the guy who burned down the trees that he really should run if he valued his life.
Good did come from the fire though. It caused a type of plant commonly thought of as a weed in the area to produce fruit; which they discovered was worth $2.50 per pound as a supplemental herb. Because of the drought most other sources for this fruit weren't producing, but the burned neighborhood had thousands of pounds. So Phil purchased a trailer and agreed to haul this fruit to the purchasing factory if the people in the neighborhood would simply harvest the fruit and dump it into the trailer. They would have profited nicely except that no one bothered to harvest it because it was too much work to get off the couch. (Although my wife says the diamond back rattlesnakes that hide under those bushes would have deterred her.)
One of the guys I would be overseeing is named Bubba. He's a really good worker I am told, if he feels like working. Sometimes he doesn't, because he's one of the 70 percent of males unemployed in the area. Why bother with work once you have enough for beer? And why bother with meals when beer has calories anyway?
Of course I could always drive into town if I get bored and see the beautiful Panama City who's entire industry is built around the couple weeks of the year when college kids come to get stone drunk and naked and cops never enforce underage drinking laws since that would hurt the local economy. When you walk into the grocery stores the first thing you see is a mountain of beer stacked for your convenience since their beer sales might plummet if people had to walk any farther than the front entrance to get it. Besides that there are plenty of local sources readily available since most people have an uncle with distilleries anyway.
Okay, so Phil swears he has never seen an alligator on the property - and the neighbors rarely see them either.
So what do you think?
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Eric Liddell
I recently finished reading a biography of Eric Liddell. I do actually read books without pictures, in case I was a little misleading earlier. He died so young and yet did so much in his life. Why? Because he was willing? Because God gifted him?
I ran cross country in high school. Although I was never very good, it kind of became this strange addiction. Not the type of addition where I actually do it -- I haven't run much since college. Just the addiction where I dream about winning, about training. The kind of addiction where I am interested in race times and think I could start training again, maybe enter a race. I could run, maybe even win, I just have to push myself even when it hurts. That must be what stops the dreaming -- the pain of actually running.
All that to say I found the stories of Eric Liddell's running career fascinating. One qualifying race for the Olympics, he was cut off and knocked down. Instead of giving up the race, he got back up and started running. Although he was 20m behind he caught up and won the race! He made it to the Olympics. Someone asked him what it felt like to achieve his dream. Instead of talking about the Olympics, the question sent Eric Liddell into reflection. His dream? China was his dream.
At the Olympics the first heat for the 100m race was on a Sunday. He chose not to enter that race even though that's the race he normally performed best. Scotland was upset. Their hero had let them down. Sometime before the race he was handed a piece of paper. He slipped it into his pocket without reading it. Later when he was alone he opened it and read the words from I Sam. 2:30 -- those who honor me, I will honor. He did not take it as a promise that God would give Him victory in the race, just that he had done the right thing by holding to what he believed was right.
As he entered the stadium, American flags were flying; he was not expected to win. He was positioned on the outside track. He knew his only hope of winning was cutting across to the inside lane. At the start amazingly he sprinted across and made it to the inside lane. I found it interesting that his coach, who was clocking him in the stands, was astonished by his speed for the first 200m. It seemed he would never be able to keep up the pace. But he kept going. He won the 400m race and a gold medal. When asked once how he did it, he replied, "I run as hard as I can for the first half, and then in the second half, with God's help, I run even harder."
He could have competed in the Olympic games again. But as I mentioned earlier, his dream was China. A year after the Olympics he left for China and served there until his death almost 20 years later. It was so interesting to read how God used his love for running and sports even in his missionary work with Chinese boys.
At one point he traveled with his family to North America. They made the journey safely even though this was during the war and one of the ships in their convoy was hit and I think sunk. Some might have been grateful to be in a country far away from the war, or even to think that God was protecting them, getting them safely to North America. But when he arrived, he saw his safety as a sign that God was keeping him alive to serve him, so instead of staying he went back to China.
Later, in China, it became more dangerous and he eventally sent his pregnant wife and two daughters to North America again, but he chose to stay. He continued to serve and was eventually imprisioned in an Japanese Internment Camp, where he died from a brain tumor. He never saw his third daughter on this earth.
I think of all he sacrificed. He gave up comfort, security, even family. He gave up running. I could say he gave up fame, but it would be hard for someone so popular to be forgotten; although he did choose not to live in the luxurious and self-exalting life that he could have had.
I am inspired and humbled by this man's life. He was an amazing runner, but a servant of Christ first of all. My life is so easy and so comfortable. What have I ever sacrificed for Christ? How have I left my comfort so someone could hear of God's love and saving power? Why do I seek approval instead of humbly casting it aside for complete surrender to God's desires?
O that I could say with the apostle Paul, "I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish so that I may gain Christ."
I ran cross country in high school. Although I was never very good, it kind of became this strange addiction. Not the type of addition where I actually do it -- I haven't run much since college. Just the addiction where I dream about winning, about training. The kind of addiction where I am interested in race times and think I could start training again, maybe enter a race. I could run, maybe even win, I just have to push myself even when it hurts. That must be what stops the dreaming -- the pain of actually running.
All that to say I found the stories of Eric Liddell's running career fascinating. One qualifying race for the Olympics, he was cut off and knocked down. Instead of giving up the race, he got back up and started running. Although he was 20m behind he caught up and won the race! He made it to the Olympics. Someone asked him what it felt like to achieve his dream. Instead of talking about the Olympics, the question sent Eric Liddell into reflection. His dream? China was his dream.
At the Olympics the first heat for the 100m race was on a Sunday. He chose not to enter that race even though that's the race he normally performed best. Scotland was upset. Their hero had let them down. Sometime before the race he was handed a piece of paper. He slipped it into his pocket without reading it. Later when he was alone he opened it and read the words from I Sam. 2:30 -- those who honor me, I will honor. He did not take it as a promise that God would give Him victory in the race, just that he had done the right thing by holding to what he believed was right.
As he entered the stadium, American flags were flying; he was not expected to win. He was positioned on the outside track. He knew his only hope of winning was cutting across to the inside lane. At the start amazingly he sprinted across and made it to the inside lane. I found it interesting that his coach, who was clocking him in the stands, was astonished by his speed for the first 200m. It seemed he would never be able to keep up the pace. But he kept going. He won the 400m race and a gold medal. When asked once how he did it, he replied, "I run as hard as I can for the first half, and then in the second half, with God's help, I run even harder."
He could have competed in the Olympic games again. But as I mentioned earlier, his dream was China. A year after the Olympics he left for China and served there until his death almost 20 years later. It was so interesting to read how God used his love for running and sports even in his missionary work with Chinese boys.
At one point he traveled with his family to North America. They made the journey safely even though this was during the war and one of the ships in their convoy was hit and I think sunk. Some might have been grateful to be in a country far away from the war, or even to think that God was protecting them, getting them safely to North America. But when he arrived, he saw his safety as a sign that God was keeping him alive to serve him, so instead of staying he went back to China.
Later, in China, it became more dangerous and he eventally sent his pregnant wife and two daughters to North America again, but he chose to stay. He continued to serve and was eventually imprisioned in an Japanese Internment Camp, where he died from a brain tumor. He never saw his third daughter on this earth.
I think of all he sacrificed. He gave up comfort, security, even family. He gave up running. I could say he gave up fame, but it would be hard for someone so popular to be forgotten; although he did choose not to live in the luxurious and self-exalting life that he could have had.
I am inspired and humbled by this man's life. He was an amazing runner, but a servant of Christ first of all. My life is so easy and so comfortable. What have I ever sacrificed for Christ? How have I left my comfort so someone could hear of God's love and saving power? Why do I seek approval instead of humbly casting it aside for complete surrender to God's desires?
O that I could say with the apostle Paul, "I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish so that I may gain Christ."
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