There is something to silence, isn't there? When the night closes in on us and we pull the covers over our head. The dark quiet brings all the thoughts of the day to a climax. Things that you put off... looming in the subconscious. Things that you are afraid of and things you wish weren't so. But then there are also the visions of goodness that you want to remember. Memories to hold on to. The touches that have been felt on the skin. And the reminders of the next days chores.
There is nothing more sincere than life after someone close to you dies. It seems all of the chores, struggles, and worries loose meaning. What is it that matters? Whether or not the bills will be paid or if we will ever seen the end of this flu season seems to be an ill conceived reflection. The beginning of an activity seems to be more meaningful than the end of one. And we wonder if God has allowed death so that we could more fully embrace life.
Someone I know, who just emailed me two days ago, is now with God. My thoughts race as I try to comprehend the value of that comment. I have traveled from one continent to another in 24 hours and seen with my own eyes what the real world lives like. The home I know is not the norm, and womanhood is far from the opportune environment of the United States. Everything changes when I go that far... even the food seems totally foreign. Milk seems thin, potatoes seem dense and chicken, well let me just say that Purdue needs to have a farm in Rwanda. But bottom line, that is going from one continent to another. What of the distance between earth and heaven?
In a moment we are transported before the presence of God. And there are indications of the embrace of His warmth and finding true serenity. But it seems to me that I am lost in the depth of the change. It seems too much too fast. While the one gone has found peace, those remaining are left to consider the changes and the world that will never be the same. There is something I have lost and can not recover it. My heart seems distant from itself. Yesterday I was crying at the opportunity to make cookie dough with my husband, and today I am numb at the opening of a new day. Why should I have opportunities? Why must life go on for the rest of the world? Can't we all just stop and consider one life gone?
But the world stops for nothing. It keeps moving, growing and spinning incessantly. There are spring flowers that my friend will never see. And yet I wonder, what does he see that I can not? Perhaps his wish is that we can see what he does now. And indeed there will come that time. But now there must be a time for grieving... and it feels sad to me that the rest of the world doesn't know what beauty has now left us. My friend was tender, generous, smiling and loving. We will miss him, but more than that, it is the world's loss I speak of. A man as good as he... will we ever stop missing his kindness and spirit?
My work today is dedicated to his memory.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Friday, March 10, 2006
I keep feeling the needle mommy!
Pahlow family hours after their shots
Yesteray we spent all morning in the travel clinic getting immunized for Rwanda. Yellow fever, meningitis, typhoid, hepatitis A and B, tetnus... names I have become familiar with! I personally have no problems with shots at all but it wasn't always that way! I remember as a child I ran running down the white doctor's office corridor in my pink underwear and into the lobby screaming, "No! No! Jesus, please come back now!" Well, that was the only way I could see me getting out of the situation... the rapture! That was 30 years ago now, when they used to take the side of a square razor to prick your finger at
every visit. Maybe that was a way of finding basic problems like diabetes or anemia. Who knows? All I knew was that the very thing my mother told me NEVER to touch (my father's shaving blade) was now being pressed into my small finger! It really didn't make any sense at all!
And today I see that my kids have different personalities and therefore extremely different ways of responding to the nightmare of needles piercing the boundary of skin and muscle. Amber the oldest seemed stoic. She was terrified, I knew. But she was going to put on a brave face for her youngest sister. I know she doesn't feel well when her face begins to flush. Amber was pale and yet pink cheeked the entire day. Even her teacher later asked her, "Amber, are you about to faint"? Nate, our oldest son, is positively giddy about receiving shots. He loves them. He would rather have a shot then swallow pills! He was actually sick with a sinus infection when we were at the clinic. He didn't flinch one bit. He also begged me to let him watch everyone else have their shots. Maybe he should be a surgeon or something! Mike, our 10 year old, was nervous and held my hand during the whole thing. His hand began to sweat inside of mine while he looked at the one inch needle on four shots with his name on it. He was brave and flinched some... but not much.
Now Hope on the other hand is just the biggest drama queen that ever existed (besides me of course)! I was reminded of the story I wrote earlier when she began to scream so loud the whole building shook. Ben had to hold her in a chair while the nurse SLOWLY prepared each shot. It was a nightmare. Couldn't this lady go any faster??? For crying out loud, it sounded like we were trying to kill the poor child. She was the first to get her shots, and every child in the building was terrified by her bellowing! It finally ended and Ben had a tear roll down his cheek. He is of the same nature as Hope; shots are a tool of the devil! He had to get one as well.
Yesteray we spent all morning in the travel clinic getting immunized for Rwanda. Yellow fever, meningitis, typhoid, hepatitis A and B, tetnus... names I have become familiar with! I personally have no problems with shots at all but it wasn't always that way! I remember as a child I ran running down the white doctor's office corridor in my pink underwear and into the lobby screaming, "No! No! Jesus, please come back now!" Well, that was the only way I could see me getting out of the situation... the rapture! That was 30 years ago now, when they used to take the side of a square razor to prick your finger at
every visit. Maybe that was a way of finding basic problems like diabetes or anemia. Who knows? All I knew was that the very thing my mother told me NEVER to touch (my father's shaving blade) was now being pressed into my small finger! It really didn't make any sense at all!
And today I see that my kids have different personalities and therefore extremely different ways of responding to the nightmare of needles piercing the boundary of skin and muscle. Amber the oldest seemed stoic. She was terrified, I knew. But she was going to put on a brave face for her youngest sister. I know she doesn't feel well when her face begins to flush. Amber was pale and yet pink cheeked the entire day. Even her teacher later asked her, "Amber, are you about to faint"? Nate, our oldest son, is positively giddy about receiving shots. He loves them. He would rather have a shot then swallow pills! He was actually sick with a sinus infection when we were at the clinic. He didn't flinch one bit. He also begged me to let him watch everyone else have their shots. Maybe he should be a surgeon or something! Mike, our 10 year old, was nervous and held my hand during the whole thing. His hand began to sweat inside of mine while he looked at the one inch needle on four shots with his name on it. He was brave and flinched some... but not much.
Now Hope on the other hand is just the biggest drama queen that ever existed (besides me of course)! I was reminded of the story I wrote earlier when she began to scream so loud the whole building shook. Ben had to hold her in a chair while the nurse SLOWLY prepared each shot. It was a nightmare. Couldn't this lady go any faster??? For crying out loud, it sounded like we were trying to kill the poor child. She was the first to get her shots, and every child in the building was terrified by her bellowing! It finally ended and Ben had a tear roll down his cheek. He is of the same nature as Hope; shots are a tool of the devil! He had to get one as well.
Pahlow Trip Fund Goal Update March 10th, 2005
And now, we are finished with that part of the process. And $1400.00 later, we are at least physically ready for the trip. It is hard to believe that missionaries can actually afford these expenses. Of course, most of them have churches that support them and pay for these things. But I can't help but feel so proud of the fact that we have supporters that are from many different denominations, even atheists! God is doing something so amazing through us and now our children are ready to be a part of it too!
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
A mother and a missionary - March 7, 2006
There are days like today that someone else might look at my life and think, "She has definitely lost her mind." I mean really, what else is there to say? I have four children between the ages of 8 and 13, I am a cofounder and project director of an international organization, I have gum disease which the dentist treated today (which is just gross!). I frequently sleep in the afternoon before I pass out of exhaustion because I receive emails and calls from staff people thousands of miles away that require immediate attention, I have to figure out how to squeeze in science projects and sleepovers, and I must prepare for the 18 shots that my family has to endure on Thursday (my mind is reeling at the screaming about to ensue). I guess lots of moms can relate to busyness. Mine often relates to things that are outside of Romeoville, Illinois. I have asked myself a million times, "How in the world did I end up here"?
I was talking to a friend today and I was reminded of the fact that I had four children at fairly young age. I was 22 when Amber arrived and the three others came before I was 27. It is amazing that I survived so many years without sleep. I sometimes joke that perhaps my afternoon dozing is a result of years of catch up. But as I thought of that, I realized that certainly those hard times prepared me for our work now. The responsibility of caring for over a thousand souls and then connecting them to the people who assist them financially in the states is daunting to say the least. But truly, is it any different then being 8 months pregnant and having two children sick with chicken pox and high fevers who is wife to a husband working two jobs to support us? Probably not that much.
The truth is, I don't know what is more overwhelming. However, I know I have to somehow become capable of being more balanced at home and in the mission field. My son cried yesterday saying he was fearful of not passing the sixth grade and reaching his life long dream of becoming a video game creator. And then, yesterday night I received an email from our staff that 3 people died waiting for sponsorship. A blow beyond my comprehension. What requires more concern?
There is nothing as important to me as wrapping my arms around my boy and soothing him. But there is also the call of my heart to be urgent in Rwanda. Lives hang in the balance each day. But my son is here and I must not forget that his heart hangs in the balance as well.
Mom and missionary... a flexing position indeed!
I was talking to a friend today and I was reminded of the fact that I had four children at fairly young age. I was 22 when Amber arrived and the three others came before I was 27. It is amazing that I survived so many years without sleep. I sometimes joke that perhaps my afternoon dozing is a result of years of catch up. But as I thought of that, I realized that certainly those hard times prepared me for our work now. The responsibility of caring for over a thousand souls and then connecting them to the people who assist them financially in the states is daunting to say the least. But truly, is it any different then being 8 months pregnant and having two children sick with chicken pox and high fevers who is wife to a husband working two jobs to support us? Probably not that much.
The truth is, I don't know what is more overwhelming. However, I know I have to somehow become capable of being more balanced at home and in the mission field. My son cried yesterday saying he was fearful of not passing the sixth grade and reaching his life long dream of becoming a video game creator. And then, yesterday night I received an email from our staff that 3 people died waiting for sponsorship. A blow beyond my comprehension. What requires more concern?
There is nothing as important to me as wrapping my arms around my boy and soothing him. But there is also the call of my heart to be urgent in Rwanda. Lives hang in the balance each day. But my son is here and I must not forget that his heart hangs in the balance as well.
Mom and missionary... a flexing position indeed!
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