Friendship Spirals Through the Years

As a missionary-under-appointment, raising support is high on my list of priorities. As a relational female, maintaining friendships is also close to the top of the priority list. When I realized I could combine the two, great joy arose in my heart!

June 27, I drove 12.25 hours, alone in my 2003 Toyota Corolla. Wait. I wasn't truly alone. Andrus and Blackwood, Michael Card, Michael Omartian and Willie K. were with me. We sang and rejoiced, worshipping together all the way from Plant City, FL to Spring Valley, AL.

On July 22, my faithful little white Corolla found itself parked again in its place in my garage.

In between, I visited nine churches. Each church has now agreed to partner in ministry with me as I work in Africa, inviting Christians to follow the Great Commission and MAKE DISCIPLES. Without exception, the pastors and congregations I visited received me with Christian warmth and promised to support my work, with both prayer and finances. Every service brought new and fresh blessings to my heart. The family of God is a vital part of my life. I don't know how I could function without this family.

In addition to visiting nine churches, I was privileged to sleep in a wide variety of beds. Two nights, I slept in motel rooms. Here's a list of the other places I slept:

In my niece Cheryl's house.

In my sister-in-law Jackie's house.

In my brother Stan's house.

In my brother Richard's house.

In my friends Tommy and Gladys' house.

In my friend Joette's house.

In my friend Susan's house.

In my friend Loretta's house.

In my friends Steve and Sally's house.

In my friends Roland and Carole's house.

Each home offered particular treats.

At Cheryl's house, I ate SNOW ICE CREAM! In July!!!
At Jackie's house, there was white syrup and butter with biscuits.
At Stan's house and at Richard's house, we devoured roast beef and all the fixings.
I didn't EAT at Tommy and Gladys' house. I didn't eat at Joette's house. But I practically drowned in affection at both places.
At Susan's house, I played with grandchildren.
At Loretta's house, there was a sense of having come home after being away for more than 30 years.
Steve and Sally poured love and kindness over me.
Carole and Roland shared their farm animals with me as well as their grandson.


This trip was about more than developing a support base for my missionary budget. This trip proved to me (beyond any doubt) that once two hearts are bound together in sacred Christian love, nothing can break those bonds. Years may spiral 'round and 'round. Vocations may lead friends to far away lands. Children grow. Dear ones are called up to Heaven. Yet the bonds of Christian love hold us tightly.

As I try to recount the blessings showered down upon me while I drove those 3500 miles, my mind and heart are overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude. Joy continues to bubble in my soul. I find myself remembering a few lines I scribbled on a wrinkled piece of notebook paper several years ago. I had attended a 40th birthday party for a man I had known since childhood. The sense of loving and being loved by this man and his extended family was almost tangible. In the dark of the night, while my husband drove us home, I tried to express the comfort love brings to me.

My Everlasting Support

I have felt myself surrounded by love.
Its strands weave themselves tightly
So that I find myself not only surrounded,
But also supported:
Love is the scaffolding
Love is the structure
Love is the strength
Upon which I stand.

When my muscles have grown soft
And my joints lose their power,
Love will hold me
Until I breathe no more.

I will slip from its grasp
And I will be buried
But the covering of love that I wore
Will stand forever.

Is that what scripture means?
“Now abide these three – faith, hope and love.
But the greatest of these is love.”

There is nothing to add to these lines. And there is no spiral strong enough to destroy love. No time spiraling from calendar pages, no spiral of change, no spiral of distance - Love abides. And I am most grateful for it. Grateful for the love that I receive as a precious gift from others. Grateful for the love that flows from my heart like water over Victoria Falls. It's love that holds my world together.

Thank God for the blessing of love.

Ribbons, Beautiful Colored Spirals

Whew! December has slipped quietly into the past. I hope I have time to catch my breath before it hits again.

As I sat here on December 23, trying to decide what to do about shopping, my soul and body were quietly filled with a sense of peace and joy. "Wait a minute," I thought, "Peace and joy . . . isn't there a story about angels who spoke of peace and joy?" The whole story from the Gospel of Luke played in my private movie theatre. (You know, the one that usually plays reruns or worst case scenario movies.) The more I considered Christmas: the birth of Christ, the angels, the shepherds, Joseph, Mary, the happier I felt. The upshot of all this intense consideration was that I made up my mind to go shopping the next day: Christmas Eve!

I decided to be happy. I decided to find treasures. I decided not to be tight-fisted. I DECIDED TO GO TO THE M A L L on December 24! Early the next morning, I woke up singing. By eleven thirty, I was parked in a good spot and ready to begin my personal shopping marathon. I was in the mall until after seven in the evening. What fun I had, choosing just the right books for my grandsons, the right activity for my granddaughter, everything I needed. Every clerk in every store was smiling. I was smiling. I smiled at people who weren't smiling to see if they would smile back in return. Most of them did.

The trunk of my car was full of bags. I started home. THEN I realized I still faced a very large obstacle: Lamar had always been the shopper AND the WRAPPER! Yikes! How could I, with my wrapping impaired hands, accomplish this mammoth task? I made another decision. I would go to visit my friend Cheryl to see if she would help with the wrapping. She would! And she did!
When I left her house, almost all the purchases were beautifully wrapped in shiny gold paper.

I brought them into the house and pulled out the ribbon. Curling ribbon has been my strongest point at Christmastime for years. On December 24, 2007 with Christmas music bursting forth from my (formerly Lamar's) SURROUND SOUND SPEAKERS, I found myself curling ribbon to tie around my beautiful packages. I lined up the velveteen stockings: one for every member of the family. I stuffed them with packages and put them in my car again, all ready to be handed out on Christmas morning at my daughter's house. I went to bed after midnight, weary in body, but happy in spirit and full of peace in my soul.

No. I'm not Scrooge. The Spirit of Christmas found me, just in time.

And now, it's the New Year! 2008. That number makes my head swim. When I was a child, just learning to add, I would lie in bed at night adding. I was 8, so in forty years I would be 48. In forty years my brothers would be . . . my friends would be . . . my mother would be . . .

I could add up to the year 2000, but I could go no farther. In the year 2000 my mother would be 81 years old. My father would be 91. My grandparents would be over 100 years old. My childish mind could not confront the inevitable aging of my family members.

So it was that I never, ever, ever added anybody's age past the year 2000. And it has never occurred to me until recently that in 2008 I will be sixty years old. Tomorrow is my birthday.

A few days ago, my daughter told me not to make plans for today. She said, "We are going to take you to the beach. (If you know me at all, you know about my relationship with the beach. It's more than passionate; it's almost an obsession.) And after the beach, we are taking you to dinner."

Ah, today has been such a relaxing, peaceful mix of fun, conversation and entertainment. There were no packages with ribbons curled around them. Just seven of the people I love most and myself, walking on the beach, picking up shells, laughing, talking and being together. At the restaurant, they put my name on a slip of paper and dropped it into a basket. A few minutes later, the musician pulled the paper out of the basket, announced my birthday and led everyone in singing Happy Birthday to me.

When they came to the last line, I sang. I sang loudly. I sang with gusto. I sang, as if the room had been filled with twirling, curling, spiraling colored ribbons, " Happy Birthday to . . . ME!"

I wish I knew a classic poem to use as the ending for this blog posting. I don't. I'm going to make up a peom. Maybe it will become a classic.

Long have I stood in shadows, trembling beneath dismal peaks.
Long have I ached in darkness, swallowed by ravenous grief.
So long had been my journey and so questioned my beliefs,
I bowed my head in sorrow, despairing my soul's relief.

When from the distance rising, my hearing perceived a song.
Its rhythm was compelling, its sweet melody was strong.
I heard a choir singing, it seemed a heavenly throng,
"Lift up your eyes, He's coming! The King who vanquishes wrong."

I saw Him then before me, most beautiful and most bright:
I saw Him speak forth lightning to fill the valley with light.
"Come from this place of coldness, fly with Me out of the night."
He grasped the hand I held out, turned 'round, and set me to flight.

From then 'til now, I'm soaring! Pain's valley lies far behind.
The shadows are forgotten; I now discern His design:
Like spiraling bright ribbons, my life's path has been assigned
both great joy and great sadness, by which my soul is refined.

Composed tonight to indicate the beginning of a New Year, my sixtieth year, which shall be a year of soaring . . . as a kite with a spiraling tail, on a long string, before a fresh wind.

Around and Around the Dinner Table

This is a Spiral about love.

A few days ago, passion overruled wisdom. Words rolled out of my mouth without any consideration for the feelings of other people. Tears fell. Apologies followed. This afternoon my telephone voice mail box held a happy message. An invitation to dinner with the persons I had failed to consider just a few days ago. The tone of the message was upbeat. I hurried to return the call. "Certainly, I'd love to have dinner with the two of you."

Though my voice said, "Yes," my head was wondering, "What's this about?" I held my peace. As soon as the meal was ordered, I heard these words, "We understand the pain you feel. We want to offer to listen to you, so that you may speak out your pain and be delivered from it." That's what this was about: An offer of solace, of comfort, of a shoulder for crying on, and a warm embrace.

I cried again. Since my doctors told me two and a half years ago about my Stage Two breast cancer, I have often cried. In the midst of treatment for breast cancer, my husband of forty years collapsed before my eyes; dead by cardiac arrest. Yes, tears have been my constant companion for 30 long months. Though I am healthy now, and have adjusted to the absence of my husband, still tears are always ready to burst from my eyes.

Now, I have someone who loves me enough to offer (even after I spoke without consideration) to walk with me through the lingering effects of sorrow and grief. For this offer, I am grateful.

I hope this Spiral goes nowhere but up.