Hope Has Found Me

I pulled up to Living Word Lutheran High School and my oldest three filed out. Once we pulled away, I killed the stereo and told them what my friend Erika had told me.

People at Avicom and some of Avicom's clients and my church and my family and friends...and I don't know who else...are uniting to do something special for us. They want to help us by raising funds. The tab to the right was something created by members of Jen's family and I put the name "Zoe Means Life" on it. It sounds right. I think they're sticking with that name.

I told the big kids my quandary. I don't get help, I help. We talked about how little we felt like we needed help. How we could instantly think of people that we should be helping instead.

And then I told them that this is my moment of clarity - these people want to help. And God is behind it. And we're not going to get in the way.

Those big three kids and I have been through our share. Our share of addresses and trials. We've seen some of the hardest trials in the past few months. And now, I told them, God is moving. He's moving, so watch this. Enjoy.

I just started to name right here all the people...all of you from everyone at Avicom, Erika to Julia. What can I tell you? That you thought of me honors me. Whatever happens honors Him.

Starting Over
by Robbie Seay Band

Clouds are gathering
Closing in it seems
Why can’t I move?
You circle overhead
With Your love instead, beckoning

Now hope has found me
I am not alone
Now hope has found me
I am not disowned
And when I think it’s over
I am not alone
When you think it’s over
You can start it over

You, Your peace within my soul
Mercy You have shown
Though trials come
You, You’re calling me to climb
Up this mountain side
Here I go, here I go

You calling me back home
It’s Your voice I know, beckoning

These Are My Friends (Text of a card I sent to my friend, Mark Natzke)

***Mipps knew that my car - the silver bullet - a 1994 Prizm with 255,000 miles on it - was dead. He knew that my family couldn't live with one car. He knew that we were in a bind. And he knew what it means to be a friend. He helped me get a car.


These Are My Friends

That's what my Dad said one summer as we pulled away from a house. We drove close to 1500 miles that summer, from New Orleans, up through New Hampshire and back down through Indiana. At each place, the door opened, the table was laid, beds were made, and laughter and true joy abounded.

So Dad pulled away from the Herrs house in Keene, New Hampshire and he stopped the car. Up to this point, this meant 1) He forgot or lost something (a genetic trait he lovingly passed on to me) 2)One of us was going to get the beat down (a genetic trait he lovingly passed on to me or 3) He was going to announce that he and mom were going to have another baby (Another...you get the picture).

But he went off the menu that time. He turned to us and said, "These are my friends. Now, show me yours."

Wow. That's setting the bar high. The Herrs had taken us to their private lake and we had climbed a mountain and picked berries. All 12 of us.

So, I can say with absolute pride that I have another trait my father passed on to me. A friend who loves like Jesus. Who has given beyond any comprehension. Who has been at my side through all of it.

And, so, last week as I explained some stuff to Kellen, you know what I said? I said: Imagine if you and Andrew (classmate) were still friends in 30 years. Could you be? What would it be like? This is my friend. Show me yours.

No word can say what you mean to me. Kids and wives and divorces and implosions aside. Nothing I, a professional writer can say.

But you're a part of the story now, a genetic trait I hope to pass on. Thank you, friend. Thank you.