Welcome to the Family, Bristol!

Here is a story of hope and joy in the aftermath of deep sorrow over the loss of a child, written by my dear friend, Susan Blount, to her newest grandchild. Motherhood (and Grandmotherhood) comes at a great cost, but it is one of the purest forms of love on earth. I pray that all of you who have had the great privilege of birthing a child into this world will have a very Happy Mother’s Day this Sunday.

                                                                                              January 8, 2024
Welcome to the family, Bristol Palmer Wall,

We’re so glad you are here safe and healthy.  You are God’s surprise bundle of joy, but your journey to get here has kept us on our knees.  Your mom had years of combating Lyme disease and Intrahepatic Cholestasis of Pregnancy that gave everyone concern.  Many decisions had to be made to give you and your mom the best chances of a healthy delivery, as cholestasis can raise the chances of a stillbirth.  God was near, as He always is.  I can’t wait for you to get to know Him.

God chose this day, and no other, for you to be born.  He knew this before the world began.  Imagine that!  As the day grew closer I found myself feeling more anxious.  This song from my childhood kept singing in my head:  I will trust when I cannot see – when I’m faced with adversity – and believe Your will is always best for me – I will trust when I cannot see.

Your sisters, Hope and Alana, got a stomach bug just a couple of days before this.  Thankfully, your mom didn’t get it!  God was merciful. 

Only God knew what the future held for you and the family who already loved you. We all knew what we wanted, but I knew what God had seen us through in the past.

It seems that Mom’s Lyme disease has been partly responsible for some of her pregnancy struggles.  Then, thirteen years ago, your older sister, Ivana, died just prior to her due date.  We have never experienced a still born baby in our family and the shock was almost more than we could bear.  God was near, then, too, as He always is.  He saw us through, though the memory is still very raw.

I thought of Ivana often during your delivery today.  She never got to meet us, but it’s a comfort to know that she knew the love of your mother, and the sounds of her family before she left for the perfections of heaven – safe in the arms of Jesus.

In October of last year, Aunt Crysten and I were rejoicing with our friend Kelly who was expecting her second baby, a boy who would be named Noah.  Like your mom, there were some concerns for the safety of Kelly and Noah so they planned to have her induced.  Sadly, things didn’t go well for them. 

These were the stories that played like a background noise in the days leading up to your birth.  God was using them to stretch my faith – to trust in Him for the things I could not see or understand.  Our God is great, you’ll see.  

My prayer that morning wanted to beg God to make everything perfect, but I knew He already had a plan and I needed to be willing to accept whatever it was.  I knew it would be for our good no matter what happened.  So, I prayed that we would know peace and that the caregivers would have wisdom. 

God’s continual presence is real, but I wanted it to be more than good theology… I wanted it to be tangible… and He did not disappoint. 

Before leaving for the hospital your Great Aunt Judy sent me this: “In my quiet time this morning Psalms 145:18 “The LORD is near to all who call upon Him, all who call upon Him in truth… He fulfills the desires of those who fear Him: He hears their cry and answers them.”   It was God’s way of reminding me, “Fear not, I am here.” 

When Mom checked in to her room, they discovered right away that she was already 3 cm dilated at 36 weeks.  This was the second confirmation that God was in this and moving us toward the outcome we desired.

He prepared a nurse, named Kassey, who was the perfect fit for Mom and our family.  She was homeschooled, homeschools her children, had a home birth and seemed like someone we had always known.  A woman who understood where we came from and embraced some of our favorite things in life. 

Homebirth midwives have such a different philosophy than medical doctors, so it was comforting to have a nurse who would know the difference and help your mom to move things along in a non-intrusive way, as much as possible.  She was patient and calm.  Just what was needed.  God was near. 

She introduced us to a technique I had never heard of called Spinning.  Spinning Babies^® has become a new view on childbirth created by midwife, Gail Tully.  The technique helps create room in the lower uterus so you could rotate into a more ideal position for birth.  You seemed to like it and it may explain why you shot out of there in only 40 minutes.  😊

We certainly didn’t want a C-section because the recovery for your mom is so much harder and longer.  But, if you had shown any signs of distress, they were ready to do that to save your life.   Your mom wore a heart monitor the entire time and your heart rate never dropped or gave us any concern.  God was near.  Even in low risk births, the heart rate can drop some as the head gets lower in the birth canal.  Your heart rate was an encouraging sign that the C section would not be needed. 

The first procedure used to get things started was to strip your mom’s membranes.  She did feel some contractions during the morning, but they were weak and not very often. 

“What can we try next?” she asked Nurse Kassey.  She suggested pumping some milk. She quickly went to get a breast pump and got your mom started.  “I’ll be back in 15 minutes,” she said. 

It didn’t take long before your mom filled two bottles with colostrum and experienced some good strong contractions – the kind she couldn’t talk through.  It was more encouragement that this delivery would happen without surgery. 

Nurse Kassey answered Mom’s call button and couldn’t believe how fast she filled those bottles.  “I’ll put them in the fridge for later.” And it was a good thing she did. 

I wondered two things: 1.  Has your mom used up the essential colostrum that would be needed in a few hours? And 2. If needed, how would they get the save colostrum into a breastfed baby?  God was near and He had an answer for both of my questions.

(When babies are born early, their blood sugars are often unstable.  Nurses keep checking for about 24 hours and yours were dropping.  You wouldn’t wake up to eat and the saved colostrum helped elevate your blood sugars.  They used a dropper to get it into your mouth.  God was near… as He always is.)

Once Mom stopped pumping her milk, the contractions continued but not at the same pace.  Your doctor came in to discuss the next step – an infusion of Pitocin, a synthetic version of oxytocin, the naturally occurring hormone that the body produces to signal the uterus to birth its contents.  We hesitated to go that route because we would be asking Mom’s body to do something it might not be ready for, and the contractions are much more intense. 

Dr. Abbey said she would just do “a squirt” every half hour and would stop whenever your mom said to. 

With the contractions getting stronger, I suggested your mom might want to get in the tub and she agreed.  Warm water was drawn and she slipped into it, groaning with contractions. Your dad hovered over her in case he was needed.   You were tolerating everything well.  The Pitocin seemed to be working. 

The time was 6:50 PM.  Before long, Mom yelled that she thought you were coming.  Dr. Abbey rushed in and said, “Melissa, you have to get out of the tub.  We’re not allowed to deliver in the tub.”

Mom couldn’t move.  “I have to push!”  “Don’t push yet,” Dr. Abbey said.  But you can’t stop a fast moving “train” and as the water was draining out of the hard porcelain tub, out you came!  It was only 7:28 PM!

You came with an attitude and that was very comforting because preemies often have weak lungs and your cries confirmed yours were strong and getting stronger with every crying breath.  God was near . . . as He always is.

You were a short 18.5 inches long and a round 6 lbs. 5 oz.  Very good size for a “preemie”, born at 36 weeks.  There were no extraordinary measures needed (no NICU) to secure your health.  Sing Hallelujah!  All is well.  We see God’s plan now, and in all circumstances, He is worthy of our praise. 

I can’t wait to do more life with you, Bristol.  You’re one of a kind and perfect, a thumb sucker (like me when I was little), and your snuggle is real.  All is well, lift up your voice and sing Hallelujah, all is well.  Thank you, Jesus. 

Welcome to the family.  We’re so glad you’ve come. 

With hugs from a very grateful Nana who loves you a bunch. 

“ . . . and give to my children a perfect heart to keep Your commandments, Your testimonies and Your statutes, and to do them all . . . know the God of your father, and serve Him with a loyal heart and with a willing mind; for the LORD searches all hearts and understands all the intent of the thoughts. If you seek Him, He will be found by you; but if you forsake Him, He will cast you off forever. If your heart is blameless you will not be ashamed.”  (1 Chronicles 29:19; 28:9-10; Psalm 119:80)

Susan with Bristol

Braided Cinnamon Twist Bread

This rich pastry has become a highly prized addition to our Sunday School class’s annual November potluck, thanks to Pam Hackney’s energy! She used to make it by hand, but she’s found a bread machine recipe (kudos to Kathy Herich) that helps makes her labor of love a little less labor with no compromise in the love or taste! 🙂

Thankfully, Pam was willing to share her recipe with us, so now any enterprising soul can bake one of these luscious loaves to brighten up her (or his) holiday table.

Cherry Pecan Cinnamon Twist
(Makes 12+ ample servings)

In your bread maker, place:
13 oz. ( or 1.5 cups) warm milk
2 large egg yolks
2 teaspoons salt
2 tablespoons softened butter

On top, add, in this order:
4.5 cups sifted white flour
1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 packets (or 4 teaspoons) dry yeast

Set the bread maker on “dough” and let it run through the cycle (approximately 1.5 hours). Remove and place on a lightly floured counter top, using as little flour as possible and keeping it as sticky as you can while still working with it.

Roll the dough into a long rectangle, about 16″ by 11.” Spread 4 oz. softened butter over the dough.

Mix together:
1 cup brown sugar
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

Sprinkle evenly over the dough, then distribute over the surface:
1 cup crushed pecans
4 oz. candied cherries

Roll into a log shape from the longer side (as if you’re going to slice it up for cinnamon rolls). However, instead, cut the roll in half from one end almost to the other, reserving about 2 inches at one end as the stabilizer for the braid. Twist and intertwine the two halves, keeping the cut sides up so they don’t lose all their filling. Tuck the ends together and let it rise for an hour or more, until it’s doubled in size.

Bake in a preheated oven for 325°F. for 30-35 minutes, until the outer edges are starting to turn a crusty, golden brown.

Remove and allow to cool for 10-15 minutes, then frost with this glaze:
1 cup powdered sugar
1.5 tablespoons milk or light cream
1 tablespoon butter
1/2 teaspoon almond extract

If you want more color, arrange another:
4 oz. candied cherries
4 oz. crushed pecans on top

Serve warm with butter. This is not only a “perfect” contribution to holiday potlucks, it can make a very satisfying breakfast treat for a family on a holiday morning!

“Praise ye the Lord. I will praise the Lord with my whole heart, in the assembly of the upright, and in the congregation” ( Psalm 111:1).

Early Thanksgiving?

How are you feeling today? I know some of you are well and happy, but others are overwhelmed by pain, exhaustion, and anxiety. My heart goes out to you!!

Tomorrow is the official Thanksgiving Day in America, although today Alan and I are celebrating a day early with Stephen and Anthony, and tomorrow we’ll be traveling back to our very snowy home in Michigan, which has been covered in a mantle of white more than two feet deep over the past week. (Could make for a challenging day!) I hope you’re able to celebrate with someone you love some day this weekend, but whether you’re sick or well, snug at home with loved ones or out battling icy roads, remember that every day we are alive is a holiday— a holy day—wrapped in the love of Jesus, and every day is the perfect day to start and end by thanking God for life and His grace in our lives!

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above,
and comes down from the Father of lights,
with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.”
(James 1:17)

Hand. Hand. Hand

I know everybody thinks they have the world’s most adorable grandchildren, and that’s fair. Right? Of course, I’m no exception, and I take complete delight in each of our nineteen darlings! I try to avoid spending all my time telling stories about them (which would be all too easy!), but Alan and I keep recalling one story from last winter that’s so funny to us that we’ve made it a part of our own marriage culture as an inside joke.

On one particularly dark winter night, Daniel and Brianna had taken their children out to walk in the snow and go sledding. As they passed under a streetlight, the falling snow shimmered in such a dazzling way that Daniel stopped to take a video to text us. Although the intention was to share his delight in the beauty of the scene, he also gave a little commentary, including the fact that “a heaven of diamonds shine down through the night . . .” (from one of our favorite winter songs). While he was taking that short video, what he didn’t hear amidst the muffled stillness was the small voice of his daughter: “Hand . . . Hand . . . Hand.” She never raised her voice or seemed impatient or frustrated, but she just kept repeating, “Hand. Hand. Hand.” It was obvious. She wanted to hold her daddy’s hand, but he was probably juggling the baby and his cell phone so had no hand for her just that minute.

Since I fractured my wrist, Alan has taken it upon himself to attempt to make sure I don’t trip and break something else! I appear to have a little “foot drop” now, perhaps nerve damage from my hip surgery. ? At any rate, if I’m not looking, one foot doesn’t always clear the ground if there’s even an inch of unevenness in the sidewalk or path. 😦 Alan says he wants to present me “fall-less before the throne of grace” when we die.

Apple blossoms in our woods

I tend to be a bit on the impulsive side, particularly if we’re outside and I’m trying to capture beauty in photos, so I’m apt to fail to watch where I’m going. Dangerous for an old lady!! So, he has taken to saying, “Hand. Hand. Hand” until I get organized and slide my hand into his or take his arm for support. He’s so chivalrous, and I’m so grateful! If I fall and break something, it will definitely not be his fault!

Our woods—fun to tramp through, but not exactly even surfaces!

There is a redeemer who is far more capable of keeping me from falling than even my beloved husband. His name is Jesus Christ. He extends his hands to each of us, asking us if we will allow Him to hold us up. I am thankful every day that I can slip my hand into His and feel His strong arms holding me up. He’s there for me. He is there for you too if you’ll let him!

 “Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy, To the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen” (Jude 1:24-25).

“Shadows of the Heavenly,” by Carol Simpkins Floyd

Carol is a blog follower who has been a source of inspiration and joy to me for the past several years, and I love this recent poem reflecting on the nature and purposes of shadows. God bless you, Carol!

Thanksgiving Blessings

On this special day, I want to thank God for a few of the blessings He’s given me, although I’m doubtless oblivious to all but a tiny percentage of what He does every second to make earthly abundance a reality in my life. Here are a few of my favorites:

I’m the youngest of five children. We’re all still alive and without terminal illness, still married to our original spouses (who are also alive and relatively well), and although we live at opposite ends of America, we keep in contact with each other pretty much every day via the internet. What a privilege and joy! Thank you, Father!

I’m thankful for my husband and children and their children . . . two more generations where everyone is healthy and well, the marriages are intact, the husbands have jobs and the wives are caring for the little ones. This is an amazing grace, and I know it. “It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22-23).

I’m thankful for THE Church universal and for our local churches, where we can find fellowship, encouragement, and mutual support in our lives as we worship and serve our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I love going to a church where I don’t want to miss a single message because they are so rich and life-giving. I am overjoyed to participate in a Sunday school class with others roughly my age who are going through similar life experiences. Talk about a “support” group! Being a part of “Heirs Together” (our Sunday school class) gives us a chance to see firsthand how others are maneuvering the challenges of aging and hear their counsel and ponderings. Also, our two very shepherdy leaders pray for every mentioned need in class PLUS keep us abreast of prayer needs via email through the week . . . and we really do pray for one another! A lot! We also take joy in getting to know each other better via monthly get-togethers. In December, there’s going to be a potluck and Christmas caroling. If you don’t have a church home, please find one! If you live in the GR area, you’re welcome to join us at Calvary Church!! Please meet us for Sunday school, too! (calvarygr.org for location and times)

I’m also thankful for friends and neighbors. I’m thankful for lifelong friends, like Brenda and Tom, who had us over for dinner last week. I’m thankful for my prayer partners, with whom I’ve been praying and sharing life’s burdens (and joys!) for almost 30 years. I’m thankful for my new friends—not only from America but from Europe, the Middle East, Australia, Malaysia, and Africa—with whom I now pray weekly via Zoom. I’m thankful for our neighbors; some have lived in the same homes for 71 years, but there are a few new neighbors too! Recently, Alan was able to use his tractor to dig a grave for one neighbor’s dog and the sod over the septic tank for another neighbor. (For which we were rewarded with some yummy windmill cookies!) There’s a real sense of community and mutual concern here, for which I’m extremely grateful!

The list could go on forever, but I’ll end with my very favorite blessing: Living on earth where God Almighty reigns. Yes, despite the pain and suffering that exists, God is alive, and He is good. He also promises that good will overcome evil—if not in our individual lives at some particular moment —in the end. His Kingdom will come, and His will will be done on earth as it is in heaven. And all who are willing to acknowledge their sins and trust in Christ as their Lord and Savior have the blessed privilege of becoming his children. I am his child by faith, which fills me with peace, hope, and joy. Despite everything, God is Love, and we are loved by God. And I love Him, and I love you through Him! And I thank God for his beautiful circle of love that envelopes life.

The Daily Grind

Today is September 1. Here in America, for all practical purposes, the first day of September heralds the end of summer and the beginning of autumn. Our national Labor Day celebration is coming soon (always the first Monday in September) to commemorate the end of a long, hot summer of hard work. I think of it as a secularized version of the biblical, agrarian celebration nearer the end of September known by the Jews as Sukkot.

During ancient times, gathering in the harvest wasn’t the end of labor, however! The next step was preparing and preserving the harvest. Reflecting on the need to grind the grains to make flour triggered a memory of the BBC mini-series called Secrets of the Castle, which features a historian and two archeologists trying to rebuild a castle and live the way workers and peasants would have done these tasks in thirteenth-century Europe.

What historian Ruth Goodman found was that the “daily grind” (historically) referred to the one and one-half hours of hard work that it took women each day to grind enough grain on a milestone to make bread for their families. Grinding wheat was strenuous work but absolutely essential for the health and wellbeing of their loved ones, because bread was “the staff of life.”

Today, very few people grind their own wheat to bake bread on the physical plane. Most of us buy bread at the store—or at least buy the flour to make our bread. Still, we are each involved in our own “daily grind” of work. Whether we’re children learning to walk or read, adults laboring in the active workforce, or retired pensioners pursuing avocations, we’re all grinding away at something, and that’s good! Work is good for us. God designed us to find satisfaction in being productive. Work keeps us sharp mentally and physically and motivates us to get moving in the morning!

But in all our busyness, I hope we remember that there is also a good and necessary grind on the spiritual plane. No matter our age, we have loved ones—sibs, children, grandchildren, church mates, neighbors, colleagues—who are dependent on us to some extent to provide spiritual daily bread for them! The majority of my “free” time is spent writing posts for my blog, where I’m trying to grind out devotionals to encourage believers and draw people to Jesus. Most of the time, writing is a joy, but it’s also a labor of love, and sometimes I feel like it takes forever to get things right. I really have to meditate, pray, research, study, and seek wisdom to digest my material and turn it into spiritual bread. I grind away very slowly, with painstaking effort. However, I’m slowly learning to appreciate this “daily grind“ as a wonderful privilege, even when it’s hard! It’s a way of trying to love and serve my heavenly Father and my neighbors. It’s an act of worship! The daily grind is essential spiritual work for each of us, worth every tedious minute of effort!

Are you working hard this September? I hope you find joy and satisfaction in what you’re doing. If not, try turning over your whole heart, life, and work to Jesus. He’ll give you good hope and good work!

“Give us this day our daily bread” (Matthew 6:1 . . . to grind out and to eat!).

Giving Thanks on an Ordinary Day, by Phyliss Hammerstrom

For the soft “Peter-Peter” titmouse calling the sleepy sun from his warm bed.
For the “chick-a-dee-dee-dee” scolding him for rising so slowly.

For the luxury of waking slowly from my eiderdown nest.
For my simple home, roof against a winter wind .

For the quiet breath of the heater’s fan.
For the taste of hot oatmeal, brown sugar, and apples.

For the Post Exilic Psalmist, warnings and blessing millenniums old.
For Milton’s line, “The world was all before them, where to choose.”

For my black, fur lined coat.
For the purring cat who warms it.

For a blue sky shot with gold and ruffled.
For rods and cones to see it, neurons to process, mind to apprehend it.

For the miracle of optics and atmosphere.
For training that tells me it portends a sunny, clear day.

For light traffic on President’s Day.
For curving black roads to savor on my own.

For my lemon-lime hybrid, quiet and sleek.
For the brown smudge of deer grazing in the corn rows.

For the magic rules that render a three dimensional space in two.
For revelation from a multidimensional being, to creatures living in four.

For a cell phone small as a baby’s fist.
For mother in Florida, who says, as she never did before, “Love you!”

For the report that my liver is clear of metastases.
For CT scans, eying my organs, through my intact skin.

For a Taiwanese friend learning a new grammar for a new life.
For a chance to prepare for my next immigration.

For the Idea of America.
For the chance to gallop after happiness.

For cream fresh egg salad, tangy tangerines.
For the bouillabaisse of young voices, dreaming out loud.

For hospice workers helping Ben’s grandmother find “bene morte.”
For the way these strangers, classmates reach for each other, tendrils of a climbing vine.

For a note under my windshield wiper.
For our son, who roams this campus too, in search of knowledge.

For ticket stubs and letters in boxes from long lost loves.
For cobalt blue glass bowls, an oval, silver, asparagus server found in a second-hand shop.

For my stainless steel convection oven.
For potable water.

For a table with deep red placemats, set with blue-stemmed goblets.
For the heft of a sliver knife, and flowers from somewhere around the globe.

For an ordinary meal of pork chops, rubbed in spicy Memphis style.
For scalloped potatoes and butternut squash.

For a phone call from England, as clear as a voice at night, over water.
For an email from an atheist in a humvee, in Iraq.

To answers to prayers for a house in Kandahar.
For a safe journey to the Swat Valley, and back

For my husband’s hand, closing around mine, around grace .
For a good book, and sweet, welcome sleep.

Phyliss Hammerstrom has been a Marine, a professor, executive director of nonprofits, a teacher of English as a second language, and an overseas worker. She paints and writes poetry. Her latest challenge has been in undertaking chaplaincy training. (She has also been a dear friend to me since our freshman year of college. Even today, we’re studying together via an online prayer class! Thank you, Father, for forever sisters!)

Isn’t this a wonderful poem? I’m inspired! Are you? I’m going to write my own, and I hope you do too!

“O give thanks unto the Lord; for he is good; for his mercy endures for ever.”
(1 Chronicles 16:34)

Lou Gehrig: Pride of the Yankees

As another example of integrity, I’d like to share the inspiring life story of Lou Gehrig, told back in 1942 in the film Pride of the Yankees (although we just saw it last week). I couldn’t find anything about his spiritual life, but the hallmark of his life was integrity, personified in the Lou Gehrig Memorial Award which is still given annually to the MLB (Major League Baseball) player who best reflects Lou’s “integrity and character.”

Lou Gehrig playing on the Columbia University ball team

Whether or not you’re a fan of baseball, I think you’d enjoy this playful and poignant account of Lou Gehrig’s life, which garnered 11 Oscar nominations and is often included in “most inspiring movie” lists. Gehrig was known as “The Iron Horse” for playing 2130 consecutive games in seventeen seasons without ever missing a game—not even when he had the flu, or broken fingers, or a temperature of 103°F. . . . or even for a honeymoon, although his wife said their whole life was a honeymoon.

But, maybe I should start with his childhood. I’m having trouble finding sources to corroborate the plot, so I’ll just share some of the highlights that I believe are probably true but can’t prove. Lou was almost 14 pounds when he was born and broke a lot of windows playing on the streets of New York City as a child! His parents were German immigrants, and his mother was determined that he’d become a successful engineer like his Uncle Otto so discouraged him from playing ball, considering it a useless pastime.

Lou was the only of his four sibs to survive childhood, and he called his mother his “best girl” almost until he was thirty. He was very devoted to helping her support their family because his father suffered from epilepsy, alcoholism and frequent unemployment. Therefore, Lou dutifully went off to Columbia to study engineering rather than pursue baseball, and it wasn’t until his mother became seriously ill that he signed on with the New York Yankees to help pay her hospital bills.

The part I’m not sure about is that his mother mistakenly thought he was going to “Harvard” rather than “Hartford” (where he attended baseball camp), and Lou’s father conspired with Lou to keep up the front by re-posting the letters his mother wrote him. It wasn’t until the neighbors got excited about his stellar career that Lou’s mother found out the truth, although she did become a great fan! In 1933 he married the beautiful Elanor Twitchell, who became his incredibly loyal wife. She was the one who said it was okay for them to go to a ball game rather than a honeymoon! Although he only survived six years after marrying Elanor, she never remarried, saying, “I had the best of it. I would not have traded two minutes of my life with that man for 40 years with another.”

Lou Gehrig with his wife Eleanor 1937.

The movie portrays Lou as unflappably steady and good, devoted to study, practice, sobriety, and faithfulness. At one point in the movie, when he’s late for his own birthday party, Elanor has to go fetch him. Although the viewer is led to fear he’s being unfaithful, Elanor says she knows exactly where he is, and she’s right: he’s busy helping a team of youngsters learn to play ball! Lou Gehrig was the picture of good character and humility and became a hero to an entire generation of kids. In 1934, Lou became the first athlete to be featured on Wheaties boxes, a breakfast cereal considered a “breakfast of champions” even today!

Lou Gehrig giving parting remarks at Yankee Stadium

In 1938, Lou began to lose his touch, and on June 19, 1939—his 36th birthday— Lou was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), a terminal motor neuron disease with no known cure, where the voluntary muscles progressively degenerate until all ability to move, chew, or even breathe is lost. He retired from ball immediately after his diagnosis but not before giving a goodbye speech at Yankee Stadium. Everybody loved Lou, and his gracious spirit has immortalized some of his parting comments, particularly his saying that despite his diagnosis, he considered himself to be “the luckiest man on the face of the earth.”

After his death in 1941, Elanor spent her life promoting research to cure ALS, and to this day, ALS is commonly referred to in the U.S. as “Lou Gehrig’s Disease.” My next-door-neighbor died of ALS some years ago. I bought her a whiteboard so she could write to me after she could no longer speak. It’s a tragic way to die. My neighbor knew Jesus was her savior and was at peace about dying despite her grief. I can only hope Lou felt the same. He was an inspiration to all and still holds up a light to those of us coming behind him eighty years later!

“But as for me, I will walk in my integrity: redeem me, and be merciful unto me.”
(Psalm 26:11)

Make Today the Best Day of the Year

Isn’t this wonderful advice for the first Monday of our new year? I woke up this morning so thankful to be alive and determined by God’s grace to acknowledge every day as precious—a blank sheet of life that is mine to color.

Let’s face it, 2020 was hard, but my heart sinks every time I see a joke about getting rid of 2020 as if it were a piece of junk, because truly, every day of life is a gift from God.

Of course it’s also true that some days are cataclysmic and will never be forgotten because our lives have been permanently altered in a way we hate. Death, illness, accident, abandonment, treachery . . . There are evils and hardships we can never fully recover from physically. I have a friend whose husband died just before Christmas. From the outside, I would say she deserves a gold crown for faithfulness, because during their 43-year marriage, she spent more than half of it caring for her husband as he slowly lost a long, debilitating battle with multiple sclerosis. Yet, her grief is deep, and I’m sure she will miss him every day for the rest of her life because her love is even deeper than her grief.

Perhaps 2020 left you permanently injured, or without a spouse or parent or child. Perhaps you lost your job and can’t find a new one. Perhaps you have a new diagnosis of a terminal illness . . . or have been in the process of slowly approaching death for so long that you’re wondering if it’s time to look for a nursing home . . . or sign up for hospice care. 😦

If you’re looking for some consolation, I did read this morning, “If you’re not alive, then you cannot die.” I believe it’s a quote by a Russian musician named Sergey Nikitin, but my Russian is non-existent, so I may be mistaken. No matter the source, the saying is true, and the implication obvious. Would you rather be dead or alive? If the answer is “alive,” then rejoice that God has given you breath and life today and thank Him, because it is also true that “in him we live, and move, and have our being” (Acts 17:28).

If you would rather be dead, then let me say this: I am not in such a dire situation, so perhaps I should be silent in the face of your pain lest you react to me like Job: “I have heard many such things: miserable comforters are you all” (Job 16:2). If you’re feeling too depressed or wounded to receive comfort just now, then may I encourage you to consider taking a few hours simply to “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).