Daughter Katie is looking for a house to buy. Loves her new job with Tucker Realty. Filling our already too full garage with stuff for her house.

Daughter Sarah settling into her job with ATL at Eli Lilly Corporate. Also making plans to move into her own place.

Andrew, our son, finishes his degree in December after student teaching this fall. And then, he is getting married in May to a lovely girl named Michelle. Wedding plans are underway with a vengance, and I’m trying to figure out my role as Mother-of-the-Groom.

My wonder-grandchildren are growing and providing unlimited entertainment. Chloe is 2 and never ceases talking/singing. (O.K., she gets it honestly) Dylan will be 1 year old in 3 weeks and is mobile now and HUGE! Mom Amanda started a new job that she loves, and Dad Brian is ending a job that he . . .well it kept him in the work-a-day-world. That means that Brian will be taking over my job as caregiver for the wee ones. So. I’m going to be out of work.

My Dad is selling his house and has moved into an addition at my sister’s house. I thought I was handling it pretty well until we held the auction of all of his and Mom’s stuff and they got to the part where they said, “We’re going to auction the house next. ” That’s when I realized it was really going to happen. I never actually live in this house. (They started building it right after Mark and I married.) This was the house where my family gathered to celebrate all the milestones of life. Birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the Fourth of July. I watched my girls tear-up as well when the auctioneer asked for starting bids. Hard. Tremendously hard. Hard for my Dad, grateful that my Mom doesn’t realize what is happening.

Mark is busy at work, as always, but at least trying to find a better balance. I think that he’s realizing that a lot of life has passed by while he was at the office. Transition of his own. Mark HATES change. Again, hard.

Me? I’m sad, excited, grieving, anticipating, reeling, standing on the Rock, and a little breathless. I remember when I was giving birth to each of our four children, that when I reached the ‘transition stage” I got very weepy. Unable to control what was happening but excited about the new life that was about to be born. I guess that is pretty much how I feel right now. Weepy, out of control and looking forward to seeing what is about to be birthed into my life.

My battle with weight has turned into a “Who gives a rip anyway and what difference does it make?” excuse for not doing what I know is healthy for me. I’ve gained back most of what I lost. I’m still going to meet with the folks at Olson Center For Wellness though. They haven’t given up on me. (Sometimes I think that ticks me off!)

Something hit me though as I watched the Biggest Loser finale Tuesday night. One of the women on the show was having a rough time once she got back home and was finally talking to her Mom about it. Her Mom was trying to be encouraging by telling her what an inspiration she was for all of her family and even thousands of people she didn’t know. Then the woman replied, “But I can’t be that, I wanted to do this just for me.”

That’s it.

I have tried time and time again to lose weight for all of the wrong reasons. To get to a certain size…to get a car (long story)…to give my husband a prettier wife…to be more attractive..to inspire my family…but never just for me. When I started thinking about it, I came to realize that I don’t really know how to do anything just for me. (Well except hide food to eat alone, but that doesn’t seem helpful.)

How do I lose weight just for myself? Take time to exercise just for me? Have a healthy meal just for me? I HAVE to figure this out. I know that it isn’t necessary to become totally self-absorbed, but that is what I think I fear will happen if I let myself think of me first. This is scary for me, but I have to find a way to do it.

Carrying the weight of what this will do for others is more than I can bear. If others are inspired, great, but I have to change the way I approach food in my life if I’m ever going to get to a weight that will allow me to be healthy. I have to understand that it is OK to think about what I need from life.

Kind of big and scary for me, but I think I’m ready to get started. I’m glad that I have people around me who love me and a God who loves me even when I don’t get it. I’ll keep you posted.

October 1st Mark and I met with Dr. Minturn and we sat while he told us that I had an occular melanoma … a cancerous tumor in my left eye. Cancer huh? 97% cure rate. Surgery to implant a radioactive disc behind my eye. Four days in the hospital with limited human contact. Hmm.

I can’t even begin to tell you how at peace I was. I know that it had to have been God’s peace. It isn’t normal to be at peace when someone tells you that you have cancer. I didn’t “lose it” till the doctor told me I wouldn’t be able to be around my granddaughter Chloe during the four days that I was radioactive. That made me cry. But beyond that, I was and continue to be, wrapped in the love and peace of God.

November 9th, my 50th birthday, I had surgery at Methodist Hospital. Everything went as planned, and the next four days loomed ahead with little prospect of anything but boredom. I had a lead eye patch … not too stylish … and very heavy! I added a smiley face sticker to it one day, and a google-eye to see if I could persuade Dr. Minturn to smile, but he remained as stoic as ever. A couple of good friends braved the radiation, and my brother Joe (a dynamite jazz bassist) brought me a milkshake from Hardee’s. Beyond that it was Mark, the nursing staff, the Food Network, and me.

It won’t come as a surprise to anyone who knows me that I was really looking for where God was in all of this. I knew He was with me, because I could feel Him, but I couldn’t SEE Him. I couldn’t SEE where He was taking me. I was blind to the purpose and plan. After all, I’d spent the past nine months doing what I could to get healthy. I’d lost nearly 60 pounds, walked, and walked, and walked. Why was this happening NOW? I really felt blindsided by it all, but still completely peaceful. Weird.

My Psalm for the year was Psalm 27.
“The Lord is my light and my salvation … whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life … of whom shall I be afraid? When evil men advance against me to devour my flesh, when my enemies and my foes attack me, they will stumble and fall. Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear; though war break out against me, even then will I be confident.
One thing I ask of the Lord, this is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple. For in the day of trouble he will keep be safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle and set me high upon a rock. Then my head will be exalted above the enemies who surround me; at his tabernacle will I sacrifice with shouts of joy; I will sing and make music to the Lord.
Hear my voice when I call, O Lord; be merciful to me and answer me. My heart says of you, “Seek his face!” Your face Lord, I will seek. Do not hide your face from me, do not turn your servant away in anger; you have been my helper. Do not reject me or forsake me, O God my Savior. Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me. Teach me your way, O Lord; lead me in a straight path because of my oppressors, Do not turn me over to the desire of my foes, for false witnesses rise up against me, breathing out violence.
I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.?

I had to hang onto the Lord’s hand and allow myself to be lead where He wanted me to go. And let me tell you, it is dark sometimes. I have very little sight in my left eye … I can see contrast if the room is really bright … but that is it, and I have no depth perception. Where are we going Father? I can’t see the path.

“I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them.” Isaiah 42:16.

Even in the darkness, a Light still shines . . .

More to come soon.

First, the sad part. Amanda and Brian couldn’t be with us this year. Seems they have this BABY responsibility. (OK, so at 4 months, Chloe couldn’t ride much.) Secondly, Weird Al wasn’t in concert this year. (Bummer)

We decided to go over on Sunday evening to save driving both ways in one day and to maximize our time in the park. The three grown children decided that they were unwilling to ride shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, etc. in the backseat of Mark’s Crown Vic, so Sarah’s Jeep Grand Cherokee was pressed into service as well. But wait! All of a sudden, Andrew isn’t feeling well.

OK, so here’s the story on Andrew. Andrew doesn’t like amusement parks. Never has. Hasn’t stopped us from dragging him to them though. (As a matter of fact, we all have fond memories of Mark hoisting him into a log on the log ride when he was just a boy of around 7 or so. He hooked his legs around the posts on the ride and had to be pryed off and then dumped kicking and screaming into the log with his other family members. C’mon Andrew, this is a family vacation!) So much for our parenting skills. So…. the sudden onset of his illness was - to say the least - somewhat suspect. I was willing to let him stay at home this year. Frankly, paying a small fortune to get him into the park when he had gone to such lengths to avoid the trip didn’t seem like a great idea to me. I called Amanda and Brian and told them that they wouldn’t have to come let Sophie Dog out after all.

Looks like we will only need one car after all.

Wait. Never, I mean NEVER underestimate the power of a nagging Sister! Sarah is world class. She wheedled, she cajoled, she…well she kept at Andrew till he finally gave up and gave in. Meanwhile, I’m sitting in the car waiting to begin our fun trip. Out of the car, call Amanda and Brian again. Ask them to take care of the dog. Tell them where we are going to leave the key. Use the bathroom again, and get Andrew’s stuff into the car.

Back to two cars once again.

We finally got on the road and I breathed a sigh of relief. The trip itself was pretty much uneventful except for the obviously drunk driver that we encountered all over the road on I-74. I found myself praying not only for our safety, but for his as well. Finally arrived at the Comfort Suites Kings Island at around 11:00pm local time.

Five adult Jenkins’ is critical mass in one hotel room. Two queen beds and a pull-out. (Andrew always gets the pull-out or the deluxe floor bed. Hmmm, maybe that explains why he is hesitant to go on vacation.) Now, I get a bit slap happy late at night, and after lights off, I got the giggles. Sarah is not one to let you giggle alone, so she joined in with her pattented “Muttley” laugh, and we were all goners. We were thinking about what the worship leader at the Cube we attended that morning had said about worshiping under the glow-in-the dark stars on his son’s bedroom ceiling. All we had was the green glow of the smoke detector. Giggle, giggle. Oh, and the glow of the Shell station lights. Andrew and Mark decided to block the light by stuffing a blanket on top of the curtain rod, risking life and limb to do so. More laughter.

Things finally started to settle down sometime after midnight, and silence engulfed the room. Until a sudden forceful expulsion of gas shattered the silence. Laughter/Tears/Groans.

All this fun, and we haven’t started yet.

Monday morning arrived early (I got up at 5:10am to shower, but I convinced my brain that it was really 6:10 since we were in Ohio.) The day was cool, damp, and overcast. Perfect weather for keeping the crowds down at Kings Island. After a modest breakfast and much bathroom rangling, we headed for the park to meet the Modesitt family at the Eiffel Tower at 10:00.

Not wishing to have a repeat of last year’s security breach, I quizzed Andrew about the number of pocket knives he was carrying. He was clean. Mark, on the other hand, was still “carrying”, so he slipped the pocket knife into my purse between the one dollar bills, and we slipped it in unnoticed.

I’m not sure I feel safe anymore.

Highlights of the Day:

Traditional Running of the Photographers - avoiding having a family picture taken just inside the front gate
Viking Fury - an oldie, but a goodie
The Racer - been a number of years since this bod fit into the seats!
Bumper cars - road rage at its best
SpongeBob in 3-D - except for the girl seating us who called Alex a “doofus” for asking to have all of us in one row
Dance, Dance Revolution - who knew Alex could get his “groove” on?
Delirium - 2x’s for Mark - I respectfully declined this one - I know my limits
Wild Thornberry’s - formely known as the log ride - seeing Andrew get on of his own freewill - seeing Alex get completely soaked
Adventure Express - Andrew and Stephen rode this one 15 times!
Being able to ride/walk/keep up all day - PRICELESS!

The day ended much like last year - we were all wet from the rain. It was a good day. A very good day as far as I was concerned. A day to forget about responsibilities and just PLAY! Everyone needs that. I needed that.

The trip back home was late, but God granted saftey, and I thank Him for that and for my weird, wacky family.

Take time this summer to play. I intend to do it again soon and often.

Anyway, an update is due as far as my new lifestyle is concerned. I am approaching the six month mark on my quest for health. (See entry: Fear Factor for the backstory.) Along the way I have been provided many guides/cheerleaders/astonished onlookers.

I can’t begin to fully express how great the staff of Indiana Center for Bariatric Medicine has been. (That’s right, ICBM. They’re da BOMB! Ha!) Dr. Eve Olson is a wonderful combination of “in-your-face-straight-talking-hard facts” and mega-encourager. Her heart for getting people healthy is unparalleled. Angie is the nutritionist who works with me. She is cute and perky, talks 100 miles an hour, and makes me write down every bite I put into my mouth. She has taught me more about nutrition labels that I ever cared to know. Tammy is my exercize guru. She pushes me to walk farther and faster, adds more weight to my lifting routine, and doesn’t look or act at all like my 9th grade P.E. teacher. (Thank God!) Jennifer is my couselor. She makes me cry. O.K., those of you who know me know that almost ANYTHING makes me cry, but she asks the hard questions in a quiet voice that is quite disarming and rather sneaky, I must say. Then there is the BEST medical assistant who checks me in, weighs me, takes my blood pressure, lets me hold my perfect granddaughter, Chloe, and is the best of my cheerleaders. Oh, her name is Amanda, and I guess I should mention that she is my daughter.

Then there is THE SCALE.

Now anyone who has ever struggled with his/her weight will probably agree that it is no accident that Justice is always pictured with a scale in her hand. When you struggle with weight, THE SCALE is the judge and jury of how you have been performing. THE SCALE at ICBM tells all. And I mean ALL! It is programmed with your sex, height, and age, adjusts for clothing, and tells you not only what number your weight has registered, but how much of that weight is fat, how much is water, how much is lean body mass, and so on.

THAT my friends, is liberty! On weeks when the scale showed a loss of .5 pounds, THE SCALE would often show that I was actually DOWN 2 pounds of fat, and UP 1.5 pounds of muscle. I have made peace once and for all with THE SCALE. It is no longer a thing to be feared. More than that, it is just and right in its judgements.

So. How am I doing? I have never felt better. As of this posting, I’ve lost 53.5 pounds. My blood pressure, cholesterol, blood sugar, and triglicerides are all down. My energy level is up. I’ve dropped from Grade 3 Obesity to Grade 2, and will drop to Grade 1 in probably another week. I’m walking six and sometimes seven days a week, working out with weights, and I am even running some. (Well, I call it running. It is a little faster than my walking pace!) I’ve logged 184.5 miles since February.

Now for one of the harder lessons: How will this time be different than all of the many other times that I’ve lost weight only to gain it all back and add more on top of that? The answer is harder coming. I don’t really know. All I know is that it FEELS different this time. My motivation is really health related as opposed to trying to reach a certain number on the scale or on a clothing tag. I know that without God, none of this would be possible. I depend on Him for help and strength daily, hourly, and sometimes minute by minute. He knows my frame. He made me, and He has watched me as I abused this body for 49 years, but He has never given up on me. For that I am eternally grateful.

My encouragement to you, Dear Blog Reader, is that God hasn’t given up on you either. Whatever your struggle, know that God is with you in the struggle. Don’t let go until He blesses you!

Who knew that being a grandparent would come with so many different feelings/emotions/changes? The responsibility for coming up with what Chloe will call Mark and I is staggering! For now, I think we’ve settled on Momma J and Poppa J. Innovative, I know. Just can’t picture myself as “Grandma Jenkins” (she was in a wheelchair) and Mark just isn’t convinced that “Pappy Jenkinz” is him (although his children really like that one!).

The biggest and best blessing so far? Hands down: seeing my firstborn, Amanda, loving her firstborn the same way her father and I love her. She is going to be a terrific Mom, and I know that I was able to play a part in that. No bragging, just a humble feeling of gratitude to God for having allowed me to be a part of caring for one of His own, and now for being able to help nurture another generation.

I can’t help but feel that God is continuing to re-create me as I enter yet another phase of my life. The reconstruction never seems to stop. Kinda like Indiana’s road repairs. I’ve never felt better in my life, and I’ve never had more reason to live in a manner that will allow God to continue to use me for as long as He wants me here. (More on that later.) As much as I long to see His face, I’m so enjoying the little blessings He has for me here each day that I can’t help but want to stay as long as possible, and it only makes me love Him more!

Enough with the gushing already! Blessed be the Lord our God, King of the Universe who gives us good gifts from above and brings us to this season:
Grandparenting!

At the beginning of the year, I ask God for a scripture to meditate on for the new year. (Beats the heck out of resolutions!) This year He called my attention to Psalm 27. It hit me right off. “Whom shall I fear?”

That’s rhetorical, right?

Well, God doesn’t call attention to something and then just leave me alone. One of the first fears that I’m having to face is the fear of doctors. Now, mind you, I’m not afraid of the PERSON necessarily, but of what the doctor represents to me:
-condemnation for not having been to see a doctor in 2 years
-condemnation for being overweight.
-fear of what health issues might really be there
-fear that I might have to change my life

You get the picture. Well I really have been convicted about this area of fear in my life, so I decided to act on it. (Just how many times does the Bible say “Fear not!”?) I made an appointment to see a doctor who not only is a friend of ours, but who specializes in medical weight loss. My first appointment went as I expected.

First, she DID get on me about not having been in for my annual and mammogram in 2 years.

Second, she was obviously on me about my weight.

Third, she tested for health issues that might be there.

and Fourth, she told me I was going to have to change my life.

But there was a major difference. EVERYTHING she said and did, she did out of concern for me, NOT condemnation. I left feeling strangely hopeful.

The next week when I went back, the test results were in. Not a pretty sight. As suspected, I tested positive for Type II Diabetes. Level 3 Obesity. High cholesterol. Danger of heart attack, stroke, etc. So, that which I had so greatly feared has come upon me. Strangely, I felt so calm as we discussed what changes I would be making in my life. Not fearful, calm. Even hopeful.

“The LORD is my salvation. Whom shall I fear?” I am certain that God is going to use this year to get me healthier. Healthier in body, soul, and mind. Since starting this new way of living, I am DAILY seeing God be my salvation as I throw myself on Him for strength to make it through. My enemies (myself foremost) have surrounded me, but God will hide me, and I don’t need to fear either failure or success. (Yes, I fear both.) As long as I am in Christ, I have nothing to fear.

Not even the Girl Scout cookies that just arrived.

November:

Our youngest child, Andrew (or “Bubba” as he is affectionately called by his sisters) left his teen years behind on Friday (Nov. 7th) as he turned 20. Wow. It really doesn’t seem that it was that long ago that God blessed us with our fourth child. Then Sunday, Nov.9th, I celebrated 49 years on the planet. Wow. It really doesn’t seem that long. Anyway, the Jenkins family likes to celebrate occasions like this by doing something together. This year, Andrew asked us to go to a hockey game to see the Indianapolis Ice and Memphis Riverats play. OK! I’m turning 49, and I’ve never been to a hockey game before, so I’m excited. That fact alone worried my children.

Brian, my son by marriage, loves hockey, so he got us set up in his favorite section where we could see the Ice shooting on goal for two of the three periods. (See there, I picked up some hockey lingo too!) Unfortunately, there were MANY elementary aged children there as well. I have to admit, it was a little upsetting to hear these kids chanting “Fight! Fight! Fight!” and singing along with the crowd - Duh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh. Heeeey! (You suck!) Duh-Duh-Duh-Duh-Duh-Duh. Duh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh. Heeeey! (You suck!) I hope you get the idea of what song I’m trying to put into your head. Anyway, during the third period, Amanda, Sarah, Andrew, and Brian all got to “Chuck your Puck!” That’s when they let you throw a puck onto the ice to try to hit a target and win prizes. Sarah landed on right on the ice cream target, and the fans went wild! (Well at least the Jenkins/Groce fans went wild!) When they called out the names of the winners, they DIDN”T call Sarah’s name! We were outraged! I think that she got ripped off. I mean, come on… we all saw it…who do they think…See how easily the violence comes? That’s what I’ve always said about hockey. (But I will be going back….it makes for cheap fun!)

Thanksgiving:

Thanksgiving was at my parents’ house this year. We stopped letting Mom take care of the turkey a few years ago when she forgot to turn the oven on, so it was my responsibility to prepare the turkey for 27 odd people. (Trust me, we are odd people!) Mom did a good job of preparing me for the task at hand as I watched, and sometimes helped, as she made the necessary preparations for the meal each year. Mom’s idea of preparing the turkey involved getting the biggest bird you could find. leaving it in the freezer until the day before and then bathing it all day Wednesday, then on Thanksgiving morning getting up at the butt-crack of dawn to salt that sucker down till it had no moisture left in it other than that which oozed from the plastic bag of “innards” that always got left in its body cavity.

I had loftier ideas myself. I find myself addicted to the Food Network now that I’m not at school all day. So, I decided, in keeping with the trend, I would brine the turkey this year. Brining a turkey involves soaking it in salt water for 8-12 hours the day before you are going to cook it. (I failed to see the similarity to the Wed. bathtime and salt down that Mom did every year. After all, this was Food Network stuff!) So, I bought “Birdzilla”, a 22.5lb. turkey, and armed with sea salt, (not REGULAR salt) fresh sage, fresh rosemary, peppercorns, and brown sugar, I started the process.

OK, so finding a container to do all of this in, and finding a cold place to let the turkey rest in peace was a little challenging. However, undaunted I grabbed a rubbermaid container and went out to my Dad’s workshop to clear a place on his workbench for the bathing area. I mixed up the first batch of brine and lugged (8lbs/gallon) it out to the tub. Second batch of brine - send Sarah out with the heavy, wet concoction. Sarah returns to tell of brine all over the workshop floor because of a crack in the rubbermaid container. Great. Now what? OK, so a bird this big……trash bags! Of course. I’m sure Martha Stewart uses trash bags to brine her turkey! After much fuss and mess, Sarah and I emerged from the workshop victorious!

8 Hours later:

It didn’t occur to me that I would no longer have help to get the 22.5lb turkey out of the 64lbs of brine until I was getting ready to go get it. (My helpers had all fled back to Indy for the night.) My Mom, (Alzheimer’s, remember) was constantly wanting to lock the back door, and I was convinced that I was going to be locked out when I went to get the turkey. Oh, and it was raining outside. None-the-less, it had to be done, so I went to the bathing area and proceeded to shove my arm unceremoniously up the turkey’s keister, grab it by the neck, and run for the back door –where my Mother stood in her stocking feet–C’mon, Mom move a little faster, and let me in! I then made the mad dash to the sink where I could finally rinse Birdzilla off and rub him down with some olive oil and fresh herbs for the night. (Told you, Food Network.com)

Lifting the stuffed bird into and out of the oven was iffy, but in the end, he was delicious! Next year, I’m lobbying for Cracker Barrel.

December:

Mark’s Uncle Frank turned 70 on Dec. 10th, so on Dec. 6th, his family decided to throw him a surprize party. ( Questionable judgement when someone is turning 70, if you want my opinion.) They live in St. Louis, so the Jenkins/Groce bunch (minus Katie, who had a concert) headed over. The trip went smoothly. Brian and Andrew tried to eat their weight in chicken at the KFC buffet in Effingham, and we arrived at our hotel just 7 blocks from the famed Arch.

After check-in, we headed to the Arch to be tourists. Brian and Amanda have pictures…seem the arch isn’t as big as you’d imagine. Nearing the entrance, we saw signs warning against carrying in any weapons. If you’ve read my previous vacation blog, you’ll know that the men in our group carry knives. This day was no exception. So, as any good mother would do, I told them to hand them over and I put them in my purse. (Not to try to smuggle them in, mind you, but to wait outside till they got back.) The rest of the gang, minus Mark and I went in.

Next thing we know, a park ranger was coming toward us. She asked if we were carrying knives. Uh…..yeah. She checked them out and told us that we could go in as well. (Thought things were really going to get interesting, didn’t you?) We rode in the incredibly little “inclinator” cars to the top, and had a great time.

Back to the hotel, and off to the party. Oops. Wrong direction. Over the MLKing bridge back into Illinois and East St. Louis. Wonderful little area. We turned around at a place advertising “Pretty Girls and $3.00 longnecks.) Made it to the party. Had fun. Danced. Saw family. Sang “Love Shack”. Back to hotel for some rest. Mark noticed that all the elevators were labeled 2 on the second level of the parking garage. (Think about it.)

Sunday morning, all of the gang went to church. Brian had noticed on Saturday that the brand name of the toilets in our hotel was “Church”. Sarah said that Brian spent a long time in “Church” that morning.

Anyway, that’s what we have been up to in a rather large nutshell. Hope to write our Christmas story before the new year comes. Blessings to you all! Merry Christmas!

My Mom and Dad just celebrated 50 years of marriage. 50 years. The reception was held in Mom and Dad’s backyard, and we couldn’t have asked for better weather. (And yes, I asked for the weather we had!) Now, usually when this many of us get together, strange things happen. (See the entry titled ‘One Day Vacations’) I can’t say that this was the case on Sunday, but I did learn some things.

Most of you know that my Mom has Alzheimers, and that it has caused her to be confused and suspicious much of the time. We decided to hold the open house at their home because we thought it would be less confusing for her. That decision proved to be a good one. Mom had a wonderful time. My Dad has always enjoyed being around people, and he had a great time too.

For me, the whole thing was precious. More than a hundred people from the community came to wish my parents well. It blessed me to see how well thought of and loved they are by so many! People from the various churches that my Mom and Dad were members of all came together, so the Body of Christ was represented the way that it should be. Men and women that Mom and Dad have worked with over the years came to congratulate them. How blessed they are, and how blessed and proud am I to have them as parents. I know that not everyone has been so blessed, and I don’t take that for granted. That isn’t to say that there were not problems in the lives of my parents, but their lives are a testimony to the faithfulness of God.

You see, at one point, my Mom and Dad were divorced. That’s right. My family was broken by unfaithfulness. But God delights in using things that are broken to glorify His name. God brought my parents back together in a way that could only have been to His glory. Ask me about it sometime. The short story is that after a few months of being divorced, they came back together again. They planned to remarry, but hated the thought that there would forever be a gap in their lives together. (They had been married for 21 years when they divorced.) Enter the judge who issued the divorce decree. This dear man informed my parents that according to Indiana law, a divorce decree could be set aside as if the divorce never happened. And that is exactly what he did.

As Christians, we know that marriage is more than a legal contract. It is a covenant sealed before God. God doesn’t take covenants lightly, and neither should we. But thanks be to God, in His mercy He showed us that is possible to renew a covenant. I stood by my Mom as she and Dad renewed their marriage covenant before God, their children, and the pastor and his wife who had married them before.

All of this was in my mind and my heart on Sunday as I watched my Mom and Dad talk with their friends and family. My Dad bought my Mom a new wedding ring. This meant so very much to my Mom because she lost her original rings a few months ago. (Her Alzheimers has her convinced that her best friend Esther took her rings.) Mom was showing everyone who came her new ring. And Dad has been so precious to her as he stands by her “in sickness and in health” to care for her as best he can. He has truly become her faithful husband. One of the sweetest things that Dad said to me on Sunday was that it seemed like the first 25 years took a long time to pass, but that the last 25 passed in a heartbeat. I’m certain that he was right.

“Children’s children are a crown to the aged, AND PARENTS ARE THE PRIDE OF THEIR CHILDREN.” Proverbs 17:6

Mom and Dad, I’m proud of you.

Many of you already know about Jennifer’s battle with cancer. (If you don’t, go to www.livejournal.com/~palmerlp) I have been in tears multiple times this week since hearing about her death on Tuesday morning. I feel as if I’ve lost a precious member of my family, and the truth is, I never even met her. I only know their family through the Blog format, and through her interaction with other IndyChurch members.

Part of me is even jealous that she’s with God even now and we are still left here to deal with all of the mess that is our daily lives. How I long for the day when we will all be in His presence, made perfect in every way. The only answer I have for why things turned out the way that they did is that God is a good God. I’m not saying I can make sense out of it all, because I can’t. But I know that God is a good God.

The good that I have received from Jennifer’s shared life via blog is that I have “seen” a life lived in Christian love, community, and peace in times of trial. I’ve read as Mark has poured out his heart in ways that would equal King David’s psalms. I’ve started questioning how I am living my life to bring glory to the King, and seen others do so as well. And I’ve seen others from all over touched by the struggle going on join in prayer and encouragement.

God continue to bless you, Mark and Micah. Know that I weep with you as you weep, and I moun with you as you morn, and that someday I will dance with you as you dance with Jennifer once again. It is a blessing to call you brother.