Here I Am

Bible studies, movies and Bar-B-Ques might not always go together but I think it was the perfect way to spend Memorial Day.

Jim and I feel it is very important to teach the kids (and re-teach ourselves) the importance of the meaning behind Memorial Day. We honor their dad everyday, I hope. Yet on Memorial Day it seemed more important than ever to pause and talk about it a little more extensively. That morning, Jim gathered us all together and opened the Bible to Hebrews. I hadn’t a clue where he was going with this one but for our family it was perfect not only for Memorial Day but for the crazy God-filled week that followed.

Much of Hebrews teaches us about the comparisons between Old Testament ways and the New Testament WAY (Christ). God ordered things just a certain way under Old Testament Law to help the people ritually cleanse themselves from sin. If you have studied about the Old Testament Tabernacle you know the Lord specifically laid out the set up: two rooms, the outer and inner with the lampstand, altar, oil, consecrated bread, etc… each in their own designated spot. A curtain separated the rooms and only the high priest once a year, after numerous ceremonial washings and carrying the blood of only the most flawless and unblemished goat or calf could enter in. He went to God on behalf of himself and all the people to ask God for forgiveness of sins. I don’t think we can imagine what a huge production this was year after year because as New Testament believers He has never asked us to undergo such stringent practices. But God Himself knew this wasn’t the “final answer”.

Hebrews 8:5
“They serve at a sanctuary that is a copy and shadow of what is in heaven.”
And He knew it wasn’t good enough to bring us into His presence for eternity.

Hebrews 8:7
“For if there had been nothing wrong with that first covenant, no place would have sought for another.” God sent Christ, His Son, THE unblemished One, to be the final answer.

Hebrews 10: 4-7
“…because it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins. Therefore when Christ came into the world, He said: “Sacrifice and offering You did not desire, but a body You prepared for me; with burnt offerings and sin offerings You were not pleased. Then I said, “Here I am-it is written about me in the scroll- I have come to do your will, O God.”

That was our lesson for Memorial Day. Obviously, in a much different way, those who volunteer to serve their country and put themselves in harm’s way and sacrifice things very dear to them, often the ultimate, on the behalf of others (most of the rest of us) mimic that same spirit as Christ. Those men and women stand up and say, “Here I am”.

Lyrics from the song “Here I Am” by the Christian group, Downhere, immediately come to mind:

Sometimes your calling, comes in dreams
Sometimes in comes in the Spirit's breeze,
You reach for the deepest hope in me,
And call out for the things of eternity.

But I'm a man, of dust and stains,
You move in me, so I can say,

CHORUS:
Here I am, Lord send me,
All of my life, I make an offering,
Here I am, Lord send me,
Somehow my story, Is a part of your plan,
Here I am

When setbacks and failures, and upset plans,
Test my faith and leave me with empty hands,
Are you not the closest when it's hardest to stand?
I know that you will finish what you began.

These broken parts you redeem,
Become the song, that I can sing

Here I am, Lord send me,
All of my life, I make an offering,
Here I am, Lord send me,
Somehow my story, Is a part of your plan,
Here I am

Overwhelmed by the thought of my weakness,
And the fear that I'll fail you in the end,
In this mess, I'm just one of the pieces,
I can't put this together but you can.

Here I am, Lord send me,
I wanna live my life as an offering
Here I am, Lord send me,
Somehow my story, Is part of your plan,
Here I am

Here I am, all my life an offering to you, to you
Somehow my story, Is a part of your plan,
Here I am


I wanted the kids to comprehend that Memorial Day commemorates not only their dad but all those that died that in the line of duty. I received a touching and convicting email from General Rand, our family friend, and I asked him if I could share a part of it. His military career and life experience have given him the perspective we all need. He says:

“ Unfortunately, we really have "lost the bubble" on Memorial Day. We use it as the official kick off to the summer, going to the beach, vacations, rock concerts, etc. I fell into that trap when I was at Kunsan by endorsing block party functions over Memorial Day, similar to what we did during all the other long 3 or 4 day weekends (Fourth of July, Labor day, etc). Very little focus was on the true meaning of Memorial Day. Learned from that mistake, and toned things down significantly while I was the Commander at Luke, and by the time I was at Balad as the Wing Commander. I fully appreciated how Memorial Days should be celebrated. Our Memorial Day that year in Iraq wasn't celebrated with brats, hot dogs, burger burns, keggers, softball tourneys, outdoor concerts, or pool parties. Instead, in May 2007, we had a 24 hour vigil with volunteer airmen guarding our small Memorial wall in honor of all fallen airmen during OIF, in addition to a solemn service in a big tent that held 500+ warriors who gathered to reflect and remember. On the stage were nine empty chairs....eight chairs representing the eight airmen the 332 AEW had lost from Memorial Day 2006 to the Memorial Day 2007,and one chair representing all the soldiers, marines, and sailors who had died during that same period. After that service and over the next three weeks, five more 332 AEW airmen, and over 100 soldiers and marines were killed in Iraq. Prior to my tour in Iraq, I thought I had a healthy appreciation for what Memorial Day meant, but will now admit it is crystal clear. This week I was hosting a delegation of Israelis at a lunch. Somehow, at my table we got on the subject of how our countries treat their respective Memorial Days. In Israel, it is the day before their Independence Day, and it is a time of serious National mourning and reflection. Stores and all public businesses are closed. No parties, and not not an excuse to just get a day off from work. Without any prompting from me, one of my Israeli colleagues who I have gotten to know fairly well over the past two years described the difference between Israel's Memorial Day and the United States Memorial Day. Here is what he said, "in Israel we don't use it as an opportunity to party, go to the beach, or have bargain sales like America does." He didn't mean it as a slam. It's been my experience that Israelis are straight talkers who tell you how they feel. In this case, he was sadly correct. I was ashamed, and all I could think to say was, "one of the unfortunate things about freedom, especially in America, is that it allows people to act really stupid."

Powerful words, I know. Words to make you stop and think. And though I will never be thankful that one of those empty chairs that day in Balad was for my husband, I will always be thankful that he was not forgotten.

Not forgetting who he was. Who those that have suffered and died are. That’s exactly what we talked about with the kids that morning sitting on the bed with the Bible open. We also talked about other’s, especially Andrea’s, willingness to serve Christ and tell Him, “Here I am, Lord, even in the midst of a bunch a circumstances I despise, ready to lay down my desires for Yours and still give You all the glory along the painful way.” Without ever personally speaking to Andrea, I know those were her heart’s words.

I have given lots of thought these past two and a half years since Troy died to what he would have liked to have happened after he was gone. I believe that is one of the ways I can honor him most. He would have loved the family devotion time we had on Memorial Day morning. Jim brought me breakfast in bed so I could spent some quiet time before the poignant day began. Troy would have done the same. He would have spent time with the kids, which we did. We took them to the movies and laughed. We came home and swam together. Troy was a good swimmer and loved to play in the water with the kids. We cooked burgers and hot dogs. Despite us packing out in a month to move, Jim re-hung the American flag whose brackets’ had been blown down in a storm months prior. It was a nice normal day. Troy would have wanted that for us.

The next morning we woke up and dressed the kids nicely, loaded them in the car and went to the courthouse. Before God, a courtroom full of people (we all didn’t fit in the judges chambers and also were on the docket with other folks – one in handcuffs- which made the whole thing somewhat of a field trip to our wide-eyed children), the lawyer and the judge, Jim raised his right hand and officially adopted all five of Troy’s precious children. As we explained to the kids the day prior during devotion, Jim has grasped the baton from Troy and continued running the race of taking care of his family on his behalf. Jim standing before God and saying, “Lord, here I am.”

Just a couple of days after that, Boston, ended up in the ER from passing out after a vaccination. He complained of his back hurting from how he fell so they stabilized him on the floor with a neckbrace and backboard to be transported to the nearest hospital in the effort to take all precautions necessary had there been spinal injury. Praise God his back is fine. He was scared though. More scared than I have ever seen him. I, along with his brothers, sisters and a team of medical staff were hovered over him, staring at him and waiting for the ambulance. Boston was crying softly. I am crying imagining the worst. Jim walks in, smiling, caring, assessing the situation, confident that everything was going to be fine and then all of the sudden just lays right down there on that hard hospital tile floor next to Boston so he didn’t feel so all alone. That thought never occurred to me. Something a dad would do, I guess. His presence there in that room and on that floor I could see put Boston a little more at ease. The nurse had Troy’s social security number so I had to explain that whole thing to her which made me cry even more. Praise the Lord for Jim stepping into the room that day and most of all stepping into our lives. I cannot think of any better ways for Jim to honor Troy’s memory on Memorial Day.

I have asked other widows and mothers who have lost their sons how they have remembered the lives of their lost loved ones with the things they now do. I found some real inspiration in their answers.

My friend, Roxanne, lost her husband, David, in his mid-forties, a couple of years ago. He died instantly of a sudden heart attack while driving and left her with 7 children. Her husband each year took the older kids on mission trips to Mexico to help build housing. Though Roxanne was way out of her element, just this Spring, she loaded up the next ones that he would have taken and they hammered their hearts out building houses in the heart of Mexico in honor of what he would have continued to do had he lived.

Patti, a fellow F-16 widow and author herself, lost her husband, Marc, over the waters of the Adriatic Sea years ago. She says her husband was “amusical” but desired for their children to have the exposure to music he never had. So she put all three of them in piano lessons. Her only daughter has not only won musical competitions now but has plans to make music her education and career. Her oldest son is now at the Air Force Academy, like his dad. And he just moved into his father’s former squadron to keep that family connection there alive, though he has few actual memories of his daddy. Patti, a health nut, says every year she takes the kids out for a greasy burger and milkshake, their dad’s favorites, to honor him in a fun way. But my favorite of all of Patti’s tributes is she has highlighted in blue in her Bible all the verses her husband had highlighted in his. As she reads, she is reminded on her husband’s passion for God’s Word. I am going to do that myself! Thank you Patti!

My friend, Debbie, lost her son, Marc, in Iraq. He was the first Navy Seal killed in the war. She now travels the country telling his heroic story and passionately speaks out for troop’s rights, just as her son would have wanted her to do.

Memorial Day is especially difficult for Troy’s parents, Kaye and Ron. They are proud yet they are so sad. This year, they first spent time with some good friends. How they met this couple has God’s fingerprints all over it. Right after Troy was killed, Kaye was at the Wal-Mart photo center making copies of pictures of Troy. She was utterly broken and bitter, justifiably so. She was hurting so badly she found it difficult to reach out to anyone as they simply could not have understand the level of her grief. The woman standing behind her that day, gently asked who Kaye was making pictures of. They began talking and this woman, Carol, told her she had lost her daughter as well. She now worked at Hospice and helped people in their grief. God sent Kaye powerful tangible evidence of His love for her that day at Wal-Mart when she needed it most. Now, years later, they played cards and cooked out on Memorial Day. Troy had specifically told me before he died how much his mom needed a good friend there in Wichita Falls. And not to mention, the only game I could ever get him to play was cards! That was fitting! Then on Memorial Day, Troy’s parents always attend a service at a military cemetery if they can’t be in Arlington. She talks with others who have lost loved ones, decades ago and recently. She hears from others all over the world who attend services where Troy’s name is mentioned and his heroism remembered. She says after speaking to others, she is again reminded of how very honored and lucky a woman she is to have had a son like that. To quote her own emailed words to me, “Never dreamed he would be a hero to this nation. Knew he was always my hero.”

Troy’s sister, Rhonda and her husband Shane were just blessed with the birth of precious twin baby boys. After many many years of infertility, Troy knew they longed for children. They came to visit us on Memorial Weekend. We got to hold those sweet babies, our nephews. Though Troy never got to meet them, I know he must have been smiling from above (maybe laughing too!) as Jim, after over twenty years of NOT holding a newborn, sheepishly first held his nephews. By the end Jim was a pro, carrying them both in his arms and singing lullabies into their tiny ears. They handed me the birth announcement, which took my breath away. A close up profile shot of the babies facing one another, hands entertwined, asleep. With their names written underneath “Landon Troy and Colton Lee”, named after the loving uncle they would never know . Shane purposely positioned them in the photo so that when their middle names were printed on the birth announcement it would prominently read “Troy Lee”. What a thoughtful tribute, Shane.

There are so many other stories. Ways those of us left behind, try to fill the big shoes of those who have gone Home.

I will keep the snowboard, hunting rifles and mountain bikes from getting too rusty and will make sure Troy’s sons know about the things he enjoyed. Just as Jim will continue to remind his sons of Andrea’s love of cooking and gardening and studying the Word. We do what we can. Most of all we will make sure they remember them by remembering the One they loved most.

Crosses

The weeks surrounding Easter are always interesting to me. On one hand, it IS the pinnacle, focus and entire foundation of Christian faith. THE answer to the question how can a fallable, sinful man (us) could ever be invited to live with a flawless, sinless King (Christ). Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday gave us just that; the invitation to outdo all invitations. Can't you just picture it? Elegantly hand calligraphied by the Master Himself. On the finest of linen paper. Brilliant white paper to represent His purity. Signed in red, His own blood. Edged with a thin line of gold to hint at the glamour of the event desitation; heaven.

On the other hand, it is us- those same folks, that are celebrating this glorious victory over the grave that scurry around stuffing jellybeans in plastic eggs, glazing the perfect ham and making sure the hairbows all match the dresses? I hope I always focus more on the former paragraph than the latter but I need to keep myself in check just to be sure. So back to my thoughts on Easter, the Cross and this most sacrificial and coveted invitation we will ever be handed...

Haven't you ever just longed to be invited to that most special of events? I remember the early days of Troy's and my marriage. We were pretty financial strapped (okay poor). Just out of college. Right before our Air Force life began. First jobs and not making much money. We became friends with a group of people pretty far out of our income bracket. They were friendly kind Texas people. Young and newly married like us but without any financial restrictions. They were always attending some sort of gala, ball or fancy charity fundraiser. They had the prestige and the money to "worthy" themselves the invite. In my mind, they were in the favored position in society. None the less, we were all friends and hung out. But once or twice, they had us put on the invite list to THE parties in town, as their guests. I was so excited. I longed for these invites to feel included in with THE incrowd. Troy wasn't so hung up on stuff like that but he was a good sport. I fretted over what to wear, who all would we talk to. Would we be out of place because they had to have known who had money, family lineage, the country club memberships, etc.. Troy worked at the country club. I worked for an interior design firm. These were our customers, not our peers. We knew how to fit in in pretty much any social setting but would someone question why we deserved to be there? We went and it was nice. But you know what? Now, I remember very little about it. Mainly I remember just trying desperately to blend in. Seem like I was one of them. Be charming and witty and use the right silverware with the appropriate food.

Isn't it wonderful and amazing that Christ's invitation sent from the Cross to us isn't so wrought with social implications and segregations? We are all invited no matter where we come from or what we've done to deserve or undeserve to get there!

If you have been around many churches for very long you have probably noticed a little booklet sitting on a table as you enter or exit. It's a small monthly devotional titled "Our Daily Bread". My dear dear friend, Tami, in Phoenix was also our pastor's wife. She always had an little issue of the latest "Our Daily Bread" in her purse or car. And she encouraged me to read the daily lessons when I didn't have the time or energy for much less with regards to Bible Study. They are short but many times have little nuggets of truth and a scripture reading for the day. A "snack" in terms of real Bible study. But, all of us frazzled busy moms out there will take whatever spiritual vitamin we can get our hands on to get us through the days.

I grabbed one this past Easter Sunday as I was leaving church. It was a special Easter addition. We spend so much time gearing up for Easter Sunday and then it seems over so quickly. So it has been nice to continue to read a little more about this most meaningful of seasons. Today's devotion was titled "Taking the Cross". It is based on the scripture reading about taking up our cross and following Jesus.

Matthew 10:38

"He who does not take his cross and follow after Me is not worthy of Me"

I quote from the lesson; "The cross. We see it today as the rough wooden instrument of death for Jesus Christ. But before His followers had even a faint idea that Jesus would die that way, He spoke of the cross. The men didn't associate the cross with Jesus' approaching death, but they kinew what a cross signified. Crucifixions were a common method of execution. The disciples had a vivid picture of the agony, punishment, and misery that a cross represented. Taking a coss mant walking life's toughtest road. So why was Jesus promoting cross-bearing? Because He wanted disciples who were willing to face the difficulties it would take to serve His cause. That's still our challenge today. Are we willing to take the cross and serve Christ in self-denial? The task is great- but it is eternally rewarding.

When I was nine years old and accepted Christ’s gift of salvation and gave Him all I had to give, a little girls devoted heart, I had no idea what it would mean to take up my cross. Even if I could have imagined it would involve carrying a load so heavy-laden with snapshots of loss and grief, I had total confidence that I would not go through anything alone. Jesus would help me. He helped me through the playground girlfriend squabbles all the way to the morning my precious husband died and each step of the way since.

That promise was exactly what Jim and I told our dinner guests last night.

I am finishing this blog weeks and weeks after I began it. What was April has now turned into May. What was the Easter holiday is now almost Memorial Day weekend. Life and its’ numerous obligations have stood in the way of me writing lately. But after last night, when our guests drove away, I knew I couldn’t have finished it properly without knowing them first.

The couple’s names are Sarah and Brad. I had never even heard of Sarah and Brad until the end of last week. Though, through the graciousness and mercy of the body of Christ, they had heard of me and prayed for me. During the time of Troy’s accident, they were stationed in Korea with some mutual friends, the Grevens. John and Wendy Greven will always hold a very special place in my heart. Not only for their loyal friendship to Troy and I during the time we were all stationed together in Italy but for their gift of quiet strength and service in the body of Christ. At no time was this more evident than when they showed up, all the way from Korea, to come to Troy’s memorial service in Phoenix. I can’t imagine the expense, time, planning, and jet lag that went into that quick turn-around trip for them. It just meant the absolute world to me and always will.

Sarah and Brad brought me and the kids, strangers to them, before the throne of Christ to ask for His help and healing for us. Now it is my turn.

Brad and Sarah just got stationed here in San Antonio at Randolph AFB. They are high school sweethearts and just 28 years old. They are the darling, fun, Christian military family. They are just begininning life, for all purposes. They haven’t even moved into their home yet or received their belongings from their last assignment in Japan. A few months ago Sarah found out she was expecting their first child. A few months ago Sarah found out she has Stage II breast cancer. All in the same week. Joy and Sorrow. Excited expectation and disappointing dread.

As soon as Jim and I heard about them, we wanted to meet them to help them in any way we could. But we wondered whether they would be encouraged by us. Would we give them hope? Would we give them fear? We just wanted to love on them and encourage them. Last night, they came over as complete strangers but left just hours later as friends and true brothers and sisters in Christ. Yet, I think they encouraged us more than we encouraged them. They are young in age but mature in their faith. They are putting all their hopes and dreams right where they belong, in Christ. They are trusting the Lord more than I believe I could ever hope to in such a situation as theirs. Sarah was thinking of ways she could minister to those she knows she will be in treatment with. An incomprehensible thought to the world. But the world doesn’t understand that her strength is not her own. Her strength comes from the Maker of Heaven and Earth.

Just three hours ago, they entered the chemo room for the first time. Sarah, with their unborn baby tucked inside, is picking up her cross. Brad, her husband, is standing beside her, praying for many miracles and that God would give her the strength to carry the baby, carry the cancer and carry the cross He has asked her to. Everything in the world that is precious to him is sitting in that chemo Lazy-Boy. Praying that the poison will kill the cancer and leave his wife and baby unharmed. Jim is on his way to meet them in the same chemo room he sat with Andrea in.

Back to my earlier devotional lesson in Our Daily Bread, this one titled “Dying to Live”. It says: “The cross in Roman times was designed for death. It had no other use. So what did Jesus mean in this verse?:

Luke 9:23:

“Then He said to them all: “If anyone would come after me, he must denu himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. “

He wasn’t saying that we must all be crucified. The “cross” to which He was referring is the act of putting to death our own heart’s desires (and dreams, emphasis mine) and quietly submitting to God’s will (whether or not it makes sense, emphasis mine).

Such dying is denying our need for larger homes, more compliant children, more accommodating mates. Such dying is accepting unchangeable circumstances, unthinkable horrors, lack of physical healing or safety in the skies. Such dying is loving despite misunderstandings, hurts and broken relationships. Such dying is walking forward without your life’s partner into a lonely world, with only your children by your side.

Each of us has or will have our own cross to carry. Our prayer should be that God would give us the strength not only to carry it for the journey but to willingly lay down upon it and accept it in order to pick it up in the first place. I witnessed in Sarah, a young woman with a very spiritually strong back.

The devotion says, “Jesus said we must take up cross daily. We are to rise each morning and cheerfully (not easy, Lord!), bravely (even less easy, Lord!) shoulder our load, because there is something else that is “daily”. It is the continuous, sufficient grace of the One whose strength is made perfect in our weakness.

Paul writes in:

II Corinthians 12:8-9

“Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it (the undisclosed thorn in his side) away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

In Matthew, Scripture tells us even Jesus, knowing God’s perfect plan, and desiring to do the will of His Father became “sorrowful and troubled” with the trial of suffering, humiliation and agonizing pain God was asking Him to endure at the Cross.

Matthew 26:38-39

“Then He (Jesus) said to them (His disciples), “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.” Going a little farther, He fell with His face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cupn be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as You will.”

I believe the hardest thing is to say to God, with total trust and confidence, not my will but Yours be done. And then to take His will and allow Him to shine through us.
We can rest in the fact that Jesus paved the way before us. The deep groove in the road was carved out by the heavy weight of the burdenous cross He carried so we wouldn’t have to carry ours alone. And we certainly won’t have to carry them forever.

II Corinthians 1:3-4

“Praise be to the Lord and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort who comforts us in all our t4oubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferiengs of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.”

Missionary and poet Amy Carmichael wrote “In acceptance lieth peace.”

Peace be with you today, all who are standing up for the first time with that unfamiliar weight of your new cross. The God of all compassion will not leave you today; not alone as the red chemo drips through the tube in that room or walking behind the flag-draped coffin at that cemetery or anywhere else you never thought you'd end up.

Hebrews 13:5-6

“…Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” So we say with confidence, “The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?”

The answer is nothing. Nothing that Jesus didn’t save us from in the past or walk with us through now and in the future.

Crazy

I know it has been a while since we have written on the blog but life has been pretty busy. So many people have encouraged Ginger and me to write a book that we have decided to focus our "extra" time towards that endeavor. Our hope was to have it complete by our move....oh well it was a plan.

Today I'm sitting on our hotel balcony in Phoenix. I took Ginger here for our 1 year anniversary. In some ways it is hard to believe that it has been a year, in other ways it is staggering to think what we did in the last year, hence the title "Crazy."

One year ago I was driving from Phoenix to San Antonio with Ginger the three girls and Ginger's Mom. We set off on the adventure pulling our U-Haul trailer. Our wedding day, May 5th was a good indicator of the craziness of our life at the time. I flew into Phoenix on the 5th. The movers were finishing loading Ginger's stuff and I along with some very good friends loaded the U-Haul and cleaned the house. Yes that was the 5th our wedding day. We told the movers they had to finish by 4 so we could get married at 6! I almost forgot, Ginger and I had to get our marriage license that day as well so we took a break from the packing and cleaning to run to the County offices for our marriage license after lunch. Well we made it by six in time and had a beautifully simple wedding at the Wigwam Resort. The next day we drove to El Paso and were met by 50mph winds and blowing dust. We stayed appropriately at Ft Bliss. The next day we drove the final 10hrs to San Antonio. But along the way the twins had simultaneous diarrhea at a restaurant. It was then that I knew my life had changed! I will forever remember walking up to the restaurant and looking over a fence and seeing Ginger bent over two naked girls her mom running to the bathroom for cups of hot water. Too funny. But that was just the beginning of what was a crazy year. A new home, new schools, and a new family, and during all that Ginger and I were newlyweds.

As I look back on the past year I see the miracle of our life, our love and our family. The other day I looked at Ginger and said, "We were crazy, no wonder people thought that." I said that because I thought of the odds of us making it the last year with smiles on our faces. I thought about all that could have happened and I realized the odds of not just making it one year but the odds of finding each other were staggering. But our marriage is not about odds. The odds were Andrea would have lived. And the odds were Troy would have come home. Odds are for betting or people who seek assurance in this world, they find numbers that attempt to predict the future, or give certainty to the uncertain. Odds do not give us assurance in this life, Christ does. And with Christ all things are possible, even the crazy way Ginger and I got married in what was a whirlwind of change that involved 7 kids as well as Ginger and I.

So as I look back at our first year I see God's amazing grace, and mercy. I see a miracle of our love, and our family. When I look into Ginger's eyes I feel a bond beyond what is humanly possible. We are friends and we are husband and wife, we love each other and we love being together. We both lost amazing spouses and yet we have found another. We agree on so many small things in life and marriage and parenting. Our lives before were similar in many ways it reminds me of God's love and plan for us. I saw Christ in my loss and I saw Christ in Andrea's suffering and I see Christ in my joy. I think we tend allow ourselves to see Christ in someone’s suffering; because who would have chosen pain? Maybe it is pity, or relief that it was not us but I think we tend to view someone’s joy in a different light.

Ginger and I have grown a lot this past year. We are learning how to be someone else's spouse. We have learned, or at least I have, that we may have a few weird quirks that we thought were normal but may not be a normal as I thought. But if I had to pick one thing I have learned, or actually relearned, it is how important communication is. I learned that Andrea and I could and would communicate without many words. You just become so close over 27 years of knowing one another that sometimes words are not necessary and Ginger had the same experience after 14 years of marriage to Troy. But Ginger and I had to learn to communicate in our own unique way. The language we spoke with Troy and Andrea was at times a foreign language in our marriage. We would have a conversation and understand the words but the meaning and expectations were lost in the translation. So we had to go back and learn our own way of communicating. It has not been without our moments but those moments are the beginnings of our life together. We both know that life is not about how you avoid difficulties but how you respond to them.

We continue learning and growing closer and we continue to be humbled by God’s blessings in our life. Now, one year after getting married and moving Ginger and the kids from Phoenix we are getting ready to step over the edge of the boat and move to Florida…yeah, I know it is a little crazy.