An Email from Heaven

My Mom asked me a while back to try to edit the eulogy I gave at Dad's memorial service down to one page so that she could frame it.  That sounded good in theory, but turned out to be impossible in practice--there was simply too much that I didn't want to delete--so no matter how I tried, I couldn't carve it down to one page of copy.

Instead, yesterday I gave her a framed poem I wrote during the middle of one of my long, contemplative nights a while back.  I'm sharing it here in the hope that anyone who is grieving the loss of a loved one may be encouraged.

One of the things I've missed most about Dad being gone is that every day I received email from him.  Usually he just forwarded things that he thought were funny or profound, but occasionally he wrote a personal note and I've saved most of them in a file called "Stuff from Daddy".  I imagined recently an email exchange between us and thought it might go something like this:

Sometimes we miss the best of life’s gifts, sometimes we fail to see

The blessings in front of the nose on our face, and that’s what happened to me.

Sometimes we argued and disagreed, but he loved me regardless for certain

And if my selfish flesh could have just one more wish, I’d ask God to draw back the curtain.

If the veil was removed that separates us, or he could send one more email or two

I have to believe if he sent one today, it’d say:

“Sandy, all of it’s true!

Your life there on earth’s a rehearsal, the best day down there can’t compare

There’s no more pain, no sorrow, no sickness, not even a hint of despair

Colors before unknown to me more brilliant than you can conceive

And love overwhelming envelopes us here in a way that you wouldn’t believe.

I love you, and look forward to seeing you all, but now I’m finally free

From all earthly chains that bind and restrain, so don’t feel sad for me.

This is what we’re created for, communion with God unbroken

So until our sweet reunion some day, my love for you all is unspoken.

Carry it still with you in your hearts, until that precious day

That we meet again on these golden streets, when you will hear me say…

‘Welcome home. I love you.’”

And I love you, too, Daddy.

Always,

Sandy

Blues Blessings

I have to confess that I haven't felt much like writing lately. The purpose of this blog after all is to inspire, not depress, yet daily moments of melancholy have become my new normal this holiday season.

Anytime things change (whether for good or for bad) emotional wrestling matches ensue.  Long ago, I learned that the messages I choose to believe must be measured by their congruence and agreement with scripture. For this reason, each time a thought of Tiffany or memories of my Dad invade my mind, I choose to refuse to be overcome by grief, instead reminding myself that they would not return if they could and are both enjoying all the blessings of heaven promised to those who faithfully trust Christ as Lord.

I am thankful for Christmas and all of the delights and joys that have accompanied its celebration throughout my lifetime, but this year, my thankfulness exceeds all years past in spite of my sorrow.  Knowing that Christ's coming into the world brought with it the chance for us to experience eternal life and a future that never includes the painful good-byes associated with this particular year of my life is reason to rejoice, to celebrate and to commemorate.

My prayer is that each person who reads this, especially those who grieve the loss of loved ones during the holidays, are able to overcome the blues with the blessing of this comforting promise from 1 Thessalonians 4: ¹³ Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. ¹⁴ For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Yesterday, I could say HAPPY Thanksgiving and mean it, because it was.  And although in a perfect world (the way things were originally planned by our loving, benevolent God) there would be no sad good-byes and world peace would be a reality, I chose happiness because of the promise that one day things will be as He intended. On that day, there will be no more sorrows, no more tears, no more sickness and no more good-byes.

So, at the intersection of Gratitude and Grief, my precious memories, amazing friends, and wonderful family--along with the promise of reunions in heaven--sustain, soothe, and comfort me, and I am thankful, so very thankful to Christ, my Lord.

Revelation 21:4-7

Reflections...Daddy's Little Piece of Heaven on Earth--the cove I love.

As autumn hues transform Lake Norman’s shores, the fireworks and picnics of summer make way for bonfires and blankets. It’s bittersweet in some ways, but I welcome the reprieve from this year’s heat.

Summer’s end at the lake usually evokes memories of the first time I saw On Golden Pond. I was twenty-two when the Oscar winner hit theaters, and already waxing nostalgic about my childhood, it stirred recollection of my own futile attempts to catch Walter in our golden cove in Sherrills Ford.

Years later, I recall other aspects of the film that may be more compelling than its majestic scenery: the complexity of relationships between parents and children, the exhilaration of shared adventures, the brevity of life.

Few things motivate us to ponder such matters more than the loss of a loved one, and having recently said, “See you later,” to the man I called Daddy, I hope what I’m about to share will encourage you to consider today’s opportunity.

My dad was old school. Undaunted by most challenges, after fighting in the Korean War he came home and started a business, learned to fly airplanes, built houses, and founded a private school. None of these accomplishments were a significant part of the legacy he wanted to pass on, however. What mattered to him was leaving a heritage of fierce faith and limitless love.

Daddy loved to talk, so he did. The greeter at Walmart knew him by name. The pharmacist at the drug store, the lab tech at the doctor’s office, the waitress at his favorite Japanese restaurant, his dry cleaner’s employees, the customers at my sister’s store, and so many others around the lake knew he loved them.

It seemed to me that Daddy didn’t recall a time when the clock had been his master and he reminded me often that he thought I needed to slow down. I justified my busyness but recognized that I often allowed the tyranny of the urgent to take precedence over important and occasionally, it haunted me.

Standing at Daddy’s bedside during his last days this summer, time stood still. Schedules, meetings, appointments and deadlines didn’t matter so much anymore, I just wanted to hear him tell me about the time he and his brother’s went skinny dipping in Lane’s Creek one more time. Instead, he pulled me close and whispered again that he was proud of me and that he loved me.

Today, as bronze and yellow leaves reflect fall’s glory in the waters of Dad's golden cove, I’m reminded of the man who built the house on the hill above the shoreline I love, and I miss him. But oh how precious it is when sorrow is soothed by the awareness that I won life’s lottery when God chose to give me a father who seized every opportunity to say, “I love you.”

If you read this with sadness thinking you weren't as fortunate remember this, the PERFECT Father who loves unconditionally is eager to adopt you. "If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved." Romans 10:9

Sweet Little Blessings

It's that time of year in my family again.  We're celebrating births and birthdays!

Steven Pate joined the family on Friday and we couldn't be more excited to have a beautiful boy join the clan.

The Gompers' Girls turned two and three and enjoyed being the recipients of presents and cakes! There are few things more fun than watching a child delight in being celebrated!

And now...we wait until Friday to celebrate one more precious little one! Our youngest granddaughter, Cadence, is about to turn 1 and we cannot wait to celebrate what she means to us!

Fun times, God's blessings, Grateful heart.

To Tell the Truth...or not.

Reading scripture in the order it was written gives new perspective to me as I consider the unfolding of events in a fresh way. 

The prophet Amos was given a difficult message to convey, but his unwavering obedience to speak the "hard to hear" truth is challenging to me on several levels.

The first is that we seem to be living in a time when confessing Christ-followers are prone to mistake the mandate to demonstrate Christ's love with the imperative to be silent about sin, specifically regarding issues that contradict the undisputed doctrines of our Christian faith.

When King Jeraboam heard through one of the priests (Amaziah) that Amos was foretelling God's plan to punish Israel for her sin, Amos found out quickly that he wasn't on the king's most popular people list.  Here's Amaziah's message to Amos:

Amos 7: 12...“Get out of here, you prophet! Go on back to the land of Judah, and earn your living by prophesying there! 13 Don’t bother us with your prophecies here in Bethel. This is the king’s sanctuary and the national place of worship!”14 But Amos replied, “I’m not a professional prophet, and I was never trained to be one.I’m just a shepherd, and I take care of sycamore-fig trees. 15 But the Lord called me away from my flock and told me, ‘Go and prophesy to my people in Israel.’ 16 Now then, listen to this message from the Lord...

Amos did not back down from the directive he'd been given by God to warn the people of what was to come if they didn't wake up.

Today, there are times when I sense a subtle (or not so subtle) expectation to just be quiet, "to go back to Judah," so to speak, rather than sharing that there is a Holy God who is the same today as yesterday and His standards have never changed. 

I fear imbalance. I imagine that a group of well-intentioned Christians who carried out their mission with misguided methods and sometimes sloppy scholarship have ushered in this era of confusion. Not desiring to be associated with one of the hateful, judgmental bigot types (who would?) many believers today have adopted an, "I'll just love my neighbor to Christ," modus operandi.  Scripture is clear.  Love is unquestionably commanded, but it is "hearing" God's Word (Romans 10:17) that leads to believing faith. But let's face it, that's not always an easy assignment because as John Maxwell says, "People don't care how much you know until they know how much you care."

I confess honestly though, that if I'd never heard about sin, I'd have remained ignorant of the fact that I was in need of salvation and that I was helpless to save myself, regardless of how lovingly compassionate the bearer of that painful truth was.

What it all boils down to, at least as I see it, is that love in its highest, most genuine form is evidenced by a willingness to tell the whole truth (lovingly) even though it may be scoffed at or rejected. Why?  Because the eternal and unchanging Word has the power to yield believing faith .

G.K. Chesterton once said, "Tolerance is the virtue of the man without convictions," but Gerhard Forde drove it home when he stated, "Christianity is not the movement from vice to virtue but from virtue to grace." And grace truly is, amazing.

Today's Reading: Amos 6-9; 2 Chronicles 27 Isaiah 9-12

Joy Comes in the Morning...

Awake for hours...sleepless, sad, I finally read and remember.  Daddy is more alive now than I am.  Joy, refreshing as water from a clear mountain stream, washes over my broken heart again and I am grateful, so grateful, for the Word of my sweet Lord.

1 Thessalonians 4
The Hope of the Resurrection
13 And now, dear brothers and sisters, we want you to know what will happen to the believers who have died so you will not grieve like people who have no hope. 14 For since we believe that Jesus died and was raised to life again, we also believe that when Jesus returns, God will bring back with him the believers who have died.


 15 We tell you this directly from the Lord: We who are still living when the Lord returns will not meet him ahead of those who have died. 16 For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a commanding shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God. First, the Christians who have died will rise from their graves. 17 Then, together with them, we who are still alive and remain on the earth will be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. Then we will be with the Lord forever. 18 So encourage each other with these words.

Daddy's Girl...

My father died a week ago today and I'm left with a pretty sizable hole in my heart.  After a short battle with Pulmonary Fibrosis/Amiodarone Pulmonary Toxicity (brought on by the drug Amiodarone that was prescribed for atrial fibrillation) he succumbed to the disease leaving a heartbroken family who lost a great man much too soon for our selfish preferences.

Born June 2, 1932, we celebrated his life and legacy on Saturday, August 21, 2010.  My precious children-in-law, Nichole Broome and Steven Gompers, shared beautiful songs in tribute, and I spoke for a few minutes about the man I called "Daddy".  For friends and family who couldn't be with us, here's what I shared:

Daddy was a mess! The dictionary defines “mess” as something that is disorderly or untidy—and that surely isn’t the kind of mess he was—in fact, he was just the opposite, so the reason I use “mess” has little to do with its actual meaning and is much more about an idea and if you knew him well, you are following right along with me, and you can probably hear his voice saying, “You are a mess!” if you ever made him laugh. He truly was the only one of his kind in captivity.

Daddy was such a mess that sometimes 'he didn’t know which one of the boys he was'. He told us often that he felt like he was sent for, couldn’t go, finally went and wouldn’t do. At other times, he was down with the con-soni-bonilitis and that was a big mess. When three little girls vying for his attention were all yelling, “diddy, diddy!,” he always answered us, “no he didn’t!”. And if we said, “Daddy, guess what?” without hesitation he responded, “the higher you raise a mule’s tail, the better you can see his butt.” Ponder that picture for a minute.

All of Daddy’s boys were girls—and as the eldest, I will be spokesMan. So for just a couple of minutes I want to talk about three traits that define our Daddy and our sweet Mama’s husband: Life, Laughter and Love.

Daddy lived life with a carpe diem kind of seize the day attitude that amazed. The baby of ten, we often imagined him as a little boy who had to work hard to get noticed because the “cuteness” of little kids had probably worn off by the time he came along. Undaunted, Daddy made his mark in the world by determining to conquer and complete whatever he made up his mind to do.

All of Dad’s brothers and sisters graduated high school after completing 11 years, but as Dad’s 11th grade year drew to a close, the state of NC decided that to really be smart enough to graduate, there should be 12 grades. In his mind, that was grossly unfair so he decided not to get a diploma and show this dumb state what they could do with their new requirement. He moved to Charlotte, got a job as an apprentice electrician and thought that would be that, but a wonderful agriculture teacher who had a particular fondness for daddy, drove to Charlotte and convinced him to move back to Peachland and finish high school.

As young girls, we loved looking through Dad’s high school yearbooks, especially enjoying the knowledge that our Dad’s nickname was “chicken.” The father we knew was anything but that, he was our brave hero and earned a Bronze Star during his time in Korea that proved it! He could do anything and knew everything—and if he didn’t know, he made something up that sounded so good we believed him.

When driving somewhere didn’t get him to his destination quickly enough, he took flying lessons so he could pack us into a little Cessna and take us exploring. When a Charlotte District Court judge decided that Daddy’s girls would be bussed across town rather than attending the school we could walk to from home, he protested that decision by founding a private school in our neighborhood that he built from the ground up with the help of like-minded neighbors. The letter he wrote petitioning for Valleydale School’s charter was so impressive that the response came back addressed to “Attorney Glenn Horne”. That 12th grade served him well!

Daddy lived life by seizing every chance possible to demonstrate his love for his family and there were evidences of that all around our home. He was a life-builder and even our backyard play house reflected that—it was wired for lights and sound and built by loving hands that were never too tired from a hard day’s work to keep him from doing the things that he set out to do. If he had any idea what Kathie was doing out in that playhouse though…but I digress…

Daddy took us places and showed us things that were important to him and always entertained us along the way with stories that may have occasionally been ever-so-slightly embellished, but made us heehaw anyway. He had nicknames for our friends and back in the day entertained them and us by bringing home a bucket truck to give us rides up above the trees. He had no idea that Lisa was pocketing some cash by charging her friends for their rides, though!

Laughter was the soundtrack of life with Daddy. Not long after they were married, Mama cooked dinner and set the table in her finest Martha Stewart fashion. On the center of the table there was a large metal spoon in the green bean bowl and silverware beside their plates. Suddenly, the spoon in the bowl started dancing—and Mama starting freaking out a little. Then, the silverware started to move around. Daddy fessed up when she was visibly shaken, pulling out a huge magnet that he was balancing on his legs under the table.

A couple of years ago Mom called me to tell about a religious experience she thought she was having as she watered the plants on her back porch. A bumblebee was buzzing by her head and suddenly she felt certain that his buzz was to the tune of Amazing Grace. She looked up into the heavens, confident that God was giving her some kind of special encounter and stopped what she was doing so that she could be sure it wasn’t in her head—sure enough, the tune Amazing Grace was buzzing in her ears. She dropped her watering can and ran to tell Daddy to come and listen only to find him on the lakeside porch with a kazoo—humming—you guessed it—Amazing Grace!

He made friends with inanimate objects like a rabbit statue in a beach house we once rented. He named her Esmerelda and she became a part of that year’s vacation. He never got too old to laugh and play with some of his toys. He loved his talking Bubbas and his gobbling turkeys and was famous for lots of what we lovingly refer to as Glennisms. When we got a scrape or bruise as children will, he always sympathetically said, “That will feel better when it quits hurting!” At restaurants, we knew that his order was always going to be either hummingbird livers on rye or a peananer rocious on a super gobsloscious depending upon his appetite. Waitresses loved him!

LOVE was the theme of life with Daddy. He loved LOVE themed music like “I’ll Be Loving You Eternally,” a song that was his love song for Mama that we played for him on his last day and when he could no longer speak, he still puckered his lips for one last kiss as he heard that music and her whispered reminder of love in his ear.

He was a man who didn’t just show it, he said it. Never once did I visit him since getting married 31 years ago that he at some point he didn’t say, “I love you Sandy Kay.” or, “Does George know how much I love him?” or, “I sure do love those babies!” or, well…you get the picture.

On Sunday as he was telling us all how much he loved us for the last time, I couldn’t help thinking to myself, "I said, self," I hope he knows that we’ve never doubted that for a second because he’s made sure every day that we knew.

There is only one person that Daddy loved more than his family and that was his Lord and Savior. More important to him than pulling out pictures and bragging about how cute we all are (or were) when talking to someone (and he talked to everyone) he’d more than likely pull out his business cards and tell them how they could get to know the love of his life, Jesus Christ.

In the last years of life, he spent his energy sharing his faith. I told my sisters that one of the most endearing things about Daddy was that where he was, was where he was. If he was talking to you, he was looking you in the eyes, concentrating on you—the most important person in the world at that moment, instead of looking around the room to see if there was another better or more interesting conversation to be had. He was a masterfully skilled communicator who never seemed insincere when he was sharing his heart of love with someone, and I’m convinced that’s the reason that nurses who only knew him for a few days fell just as in love with him and came in after their shifts ended to spend time at his bedside and came back to the hospital to cry with us as he was dying.

One of them was a nurse who cared for Daddy last year after he fell out of the infamous pear tree, chainsaw in hand. She had heard he was up in CCU and wanted to come by and tell him that he had touched her life like no other patient. Her words to us were that he looked her in the eyes and asked her if she was okay. She found herself telling him that she wasn’t—really—and he told her how she could find the joy that she needed for life in spite of her troubles. She never forgot that, and she never forgot daddy—and she wanted him to know that he made an indelible impact on her life and in her marriage. She said, “he didn’t know me at all, but he genuinely cared.” His care was born out of his love for His Savior—a love that was so compelling that he couldn’t not care.

While going through some of Dad’s mementos and keepsakes, we found a folded restaurant placemat—he was quite an accomplished placemat artist by the way—and on it he’d written a poem that reads:

Just to know that our love has lasted almost a lifetime


Keeps joy and thankfulness on my thankful mind


We savor all the good times and let go of the bad

And to know our daughters can still call me “Dad”


Are just a few of the reminders of the blessings I have had


God has been so good and


I have always known that with me He’s always stood. Signed, G. Billingsley Horne

After he retired, Daddy designed his new and improved business cards. They featured praying hands on the left and his name and address on the right along with his favorite Bible verse, John 3:16. He always kept one ready to hand out to anyone he struck up a conversation with who needed encouragement or wanted to hear more about God’s love.

On Wednesday night, I picked up the Bible he read every day and randomly opened it to a page with just one highlighted verse…

Matthew 25:21 (New King James Version)

21 His lord said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant; you were faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord.’

This morning, he is there with His Savior and his loved ones who had gone before him, still celebrating life—ETERNAL LIFE—that was bought for him on Calvary’s cross when he asked a resurrected Jesus Christ to be his forgiver and leader. Daddy HAS entered into the joy of His Lord! And the thing he’d want me to ask every person here is will you be there with him one day? And are you sure? Because if you aren’t, you can be. His favorite verse John 3:16, explains how that’s possible. It reads: For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son that whosoever believes in Him will not perish but will have everlasting life.

Our family thanks every one of you who has prayed for us, mourned with us, rejoiced with us and celebrated his life with us today, and I would be negligent if I didn’t ask one last question for Dad—will your legacy be like his? Will you live life fully, laugh hard often, and love God and people extravagantly? Because that is how best to honor the memory and legacy of my Daddy, Glenn B. Horne…

TIKVAH!

Tikvah!  It's a word I learned from a woman I love--Tiffany Pate.  Tikvah is a Hebrew word that means "hope, waiting in expectation of," and God gave it to her during a special quiet time after her breast cancer diagnosis.

If you've followed my blog for a while you know about her journey, her faith, and her legacy--but if you are new to Cerebrations, you can catch up here.

Because of Tiffany Pate, my life will never be the same, so it's my privilege to share that her husband Brian has created bracelets in her memory to help raise funds for Cancer Services of Gaston County, an organization that has helped her family and the families of so many others touched by the disease. The bracelets are $2.50 each and include two scripture passages that define (in summary) her hope and her confidence.

Romans 12:12 says: Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. and she was. Psalm 91 (stamped on the inside of the bracelets) is a passage that strenghtened her unwavering faith, and finally, TIKVAH,is a message for us all--that our hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness.

If you'd like to order a bracelet you can find out more by emailing TiffanysTikvah@hushmail.com.

Finally, please remember to pray for Brian and her boys, Landon and Ridge, who like so many of us carry on because of our confident TIKVAH that we will see her again soon!

Fat Cow? Wow!

I do not imagine that any woman of any era would  appreciate being called a "fat cow," but that's exactly what the prophet Amos called the indulgent women of Israel as he spoke for God within the first five chapters of the book named after him.

The pages of these scripture passages paint a portrait of a people who reeked with the odor of ungodly behavior, and this herdsman turned prophet, Mr. Amos, spoke clearly (and bluntly) in an attempt to warn them to wake up before it was too late.

So what were the transgressions of these fat cows?  They oppressed the poor and crushed the needy--either directly, or maybe scarier--indirectly.  Their incessant whining and pining for more "stuff" apparently drove their husbands to commit great injustices in order to satisfy them, and God was angry.

I ask myself, am I guilty of the same?  I loathe the idea of being a "fat cow," and yet I know I'm prone to plod the path that leads to that putrified pasture.

My husband and I recently discussed at length the fact that very few people--even Christians--seem to be satisfied with just having their needs met any more.  We are a consuming lot, always wanting better, newer, nicer, and while I will not suggest that this is 100% wrong all of the time, I will propose that what might be more in line with what is God pleasing and God honoring is establishing a "this much is enough" plan so that when and if we are blessed beyond the "enough" mark, the rest can be given to help those who need it.

Everything that Amos prophesied regarding the judgments awaiting those who ignored his warnings happened, some of it in as little as thirty years.  Merciful God gave them plenty of time to repent, but they didn't.

Today, I think the cow bell's alarm is sounding loud and clear--but will we listen?  Am I listening?  I hope I am not just listening but learning and heeding--because I never--EVER--want to be a fat cow in God's eyes.

Father, help me appreciate "enough" and be faithful to share the extra.  Please help Your economy be mine--and vice versa, in Jesus' Name, amen.

Fine Wine on My Mind...

Confusion.  What's the first thing that comes to mind when you hear or say that word?  There is a legitimate difference between confusion and ignorance, and yet somehow the two can seem intricately intertwined when the confused person doesn't avail himself of the information that can remedy any contributing ignorance.

Such seems to have been the case in the day of Isaiah, most specifically as he penned chapters 5 through 8.  There can be little confusion upon reading his words however, about the state of affairs that dominated the culture in his era.  Most striking to me is the parallel that can be drawn between his day and ours.  Some of these passages read as if they could be snatched from today's headlines.

Take a look at just a few of the verses and see if you agree:

5: 11 What sorrow for those who get up early in the morning looking for a drink of alcohol and spend long evenings drinking wine to make themselves flaming drunk. 12 They furnish wine and lovely music at their grand parties...but they never think about the Lord or notice what he is doing.

20 What sorrow for those who say that evil is good and good is evil, that dark is light and light is dark, that bitter is sweet and sweet is bitter. 21 What sorrow for those who are wise in their own eyes and think themselves so clever.

Isaiah opened chapter 5 by giving us the picture of a beautiful vineyard beloved by its owner.  The vineyard, planted in fertile soil and supplied with the perfect amount of everything it needed to produce a lovely harvest, has produced bitter fruit and is overgrown with weeds.  Maybe most disturbing though is that in His frustration, the vineyard owner has decided to remove its protective hedge.

A people who reject and ignore the blessings and benefits of the loving vineyard owner (God) eventually reap the consequences of their rejection.  God will have a harvest and there will be fine wine.  I pray that the veils of confusion and the cloaks of ignorance that seem to be prevailing in our day will be removed so that the harvest will again be plentiful in the land I love.  If not, I plead for mercy and ask Him to continue to cultivate small vineyards that yield good fruit for His purposes in the places where you and I live.

Father-- please till the soil of my personal vineyard until the fruit I produce is lovely, fragrant, and good enough to yield the sweetest wine. 

God Bless America...

I am and always have been proud to be American.  Having said that, I am not always proud OF America.  There are times when as a culture/nation we have failed to live up to our potential and have made mistakes that are disheartening and disillusioning.  Even still, there is no place on earth like this land of the free and home of the brave.  A quick trip outside our borders to anywhere else confirms and affirms that we enjoy a level of benefit and blessing that is unparalleled. America is arguably the best idea ever--it's a place where individuals are free to choose to work hard to reach personal goals or be lazy and satisified with a mediocre or mundane life experience. For all her faults (perceived and real) I consider myself extremely fortunate to have been blessed enough to be born here.

Recently, I've read two books that I'd like to mention for those who are interested in thinking about the good, the bad, and the difficult related to where we are as a country and where we are going if things continue on the path we seem to be choosing.

The first, written by  Dinesh D'Souza, is titled: "What's So Great About America." You may have trouble finding it, but it's worth the search. 

The second, "The Late Great United States," is written by Mark Hitchcock. Be warned, this is not light summer reading.  It isn't even particularly enjoyable to tell you the truth. But if you are willing and ready to accept that there are statistics and facts that cannot be denied and should not be ignored if we care about our country's future, then it's a "must read".






I will conclude by saying again that I love my country.  I am forever indebted to my dad and every other brave man and woman who has served valiantly in the armed forces of this nation to defend freedom, and I am so thankful to God for allowing me to be the beneficiary by birth of the brilliant ideas of my forefathers.  I will never take for granted the privilege of growing up in the land of the free and the home of the brave, and as long as I have breath I will continue to say "thank you" to God for letting me enjoy the blessings of living here. 

Happy Birthday America!

The Main Thing...

Every day for the past several months I have prayed for dear friends and family members who are enduring serious trials, illnesses or burdens.  In each instance I've been reminded that taking my concerns to the Father is a precious privilege, and at the same time, these situations have served to remind me that this life boils down to one big main thing: Love. 

Words are not minced in Matthew 22...37 Jesus replied, “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind. 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. 

I want to love God with all my heart, soul, and mind--but do I?  Really?  And how does my life reflect it if I do?

And what about my neighbor? 

The truth is--I have a long way to go.  But with all my heart, soul, and mind, I don't want to miss the main thing.  And as best as I can tell, the main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.

Help me Lord! I see--I know--I believe--that the main thing is love, and I don't want to miss it.

Kind Comments and Precious People...

A few very kind people have sent notes and left comments thanking me for posting early information about Megan, Kreig, Evie Caroline and Holden Bell on my blog. I want to assure each of you that I've read your extremely gracious words and I'm humbled by your gratitude...BUT...honestly, it was an honor and a calling to be able to send out a plea for prayers two weeks ago and I am thrilled to know that so many have prayed fervently and faithfully.  Having the ability to stand in the gap for each other as brothers and sisters in Christ is one of the most precious blessings associated with being part of God's family, and how wonderful that we can all celebrate the real and tangible evidence of the miraculous work He's done.

Megan, Kreig, babies...you have touched my heart and continue to inspire me every day!  I pray enormous continued blessings for each of your lives and believe with all my heart that you are going to be used in incredible ways for His glory in the days to come.

1 Thessalonians 5:17~ let's keep praying!

CaringBridge site for Megan, Evie, and Holden...

I'm happy to report that Megan's Caringbridge site is up and running and you may now check for updates and praise reports there.  To access it, click this link:
http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/meganbell

I know the family is so grateful to each of us who are praying, but they need the prayers to continue and the encouragement to be frequent, so let's do it!

Prayers are being answered...

Here's the most recent update I have from Donna on Megan and the twins:

...Both babies had sonograms early this morning (yesterday) to ascertain their brain development. Learned the results this afternoon. Given that the blood vessels to their brains are fragile and barely developed, Evie has a little blood on the outside of her blood vessels. In medical terms this is graded as a "1," the least severe. Holden, however, has a little more blood on the outside of his blood vessels and some has seeped into the brain. The amount of blood around his blood vessels is graded as a "2" and the amount of blood that has seeped into his brain is graded as a "4," the most severe. The doctor assured us that it's still early and he is not worried at this point. Multiple sonograms will be performed on their little brains over the next several months with the 2nd sonogram scheduled this Friday, 6.18.10.

 
Megan's day started well. She is now able to piece together several words to form short sentences! At times her brain cannot recall facts, (i.e., she stated that she had eggs and toast for breakfast, which she did not; she did not recognize a picture of Holden and Evie this afternoon and that upset Kreig). She made such huge progress between Monday and Tuesday that Kreig wants her recovery to continue at that pace, but she simply is not going to. His head understands, but his heart is having a more difficult time accepting that one. He hasn't lost faith, he's just anxious for his wife to recover and meet their babies.

In addition to Tuesday's milestone, another one was reached late today. Megan was able to pump breast milk so that it can be fed to Evie Caroline and Holden. Breast milk is vital at this point in the babies' growth as Megan's milk would have been feeding them if they were still in her womb. They need the nutrients. The next few days are especially critical in this area as Evie and Holden's bodies may not easily accept the milk. Keep in mind, it's not the milk itself that can be an issue, it's the process of administering the milk. At 26 weeks babies are supposed to still be in Megan's womb. The nurses will place a very small amount on each baby's lip and monitor their reaction. If all goes well milk will be placed in their mouths. This baby-step process will continue for a few days until the nurses determine that the milk can be fed via a feeding tube into each baby's stomach.

Thank goodness Megan is hard-headed, strong-willed, and a fighter as it's these character traits that enabled her babies to grow inside her an extra 10 days and also brought her back to us! However, that fiesty girl became impatient tonight and wanted to use the bathroom in her room. Megan has a few tubes that connect her to various objects, (i.e., catheter, IV, etc.) yet she wanted to find her mom who she knew would take her to use a real facility. Thankfully the nurses at the station saw her just as she stood up and was falling, but did not make it to the room to catch her. Fortunately, God caught her as she does not have an visible signs of breaking, ripping of staples, etc. Let's pray that there are no internal injuries. As a result, Megan now has to have someone in the room with her at all times..

I can only imagine the mixed bag of emotions this family is experiencing.  I know they've felt the highs and hallelujahs associated with deepest gratitude, and I'm guessing there are also the occasional bouts of fear and concern about how this journey will progress and how quickly Megan will bounce back from the trauma she's endured.

If you're checking for updates here it's probably because you feel as compelled as I do to keep on praying fervently, so until the Caringbridge site is up and running I'll continue to share what I know so that we can all pray specifically for the Bells! 

Three Miracles in Mississippi!

Today's update on Megan and the babies comes again from Grandma Donna (I don't know what she is going to be called yet, but for now "Grandma" will work!).  God has been so gracious to hear and answer our prayers, but as I mentioned yesterday (and as you'll read in Donna's note below) there is a long road ahead for this family, so I'm encouraged to remember the instructions of 1 Thessalonians 5: 16 - 18 ~  Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

Thank you to all who are continuing to pray!  Isn't it beautiful to know, see, and be a part of the miraculous?  Most women do not survive an AFE (amniotic fluid embolism) which is likely what happened to Megan from the description that Donna gave us yesterday.  Megan's life will never be the same, but I'm believing it will be better than she ever imagined possible as God restores her memory, revives her spirit and reinvigorates her body, making all things new for her.

Here's Donna's update today:

The day started with a visit to see Evie and Holden. Still in what is called the "honeymoon" phase, which means the period of time right after premature babies are born. The honeymoon period usually ends around 36 hours after birth. Nurses and doctors tell us post-honeymoon is the time when the rubber meets the road, so to speak. If the babies are going to improve or decline, this is it. We're thinking positive that improvement will continue!! Sonograms were performed on the brain of both babies and we'll learn results by tomorrow morning. So far Evie and Holden are doing well; both are fighters. Evie is a fiesty little girl; during her sonogram she moved her arms and legs and mouth because the nurse was disrupting her sleep. Once the sonogram was over Evie's arms and legs stopped and she went bquickly ack to sleep. Holden's blood pressure dropped some last night, but his nurse quickly responded and his blood pressure retuned to normal.


Megan's doctors explained that, while Tuesday was a big day and much progress is made, still a long road ahead! Megan is able to put words together today, but not many. Her memory of various past events is blank, but the doctor explained this is normal. After all, her brain suffered greatly when she seizured during delivery. The nurses sat Megan on the side of the bed this morning, but they quickly laid her back down as she bacame ill. Keep in mind she's been flat on here back and inverted, at times, for 2 weeks. In addition, her body is still recovering from such trama that a slight movement can be traumatic. The doctors are discussing possibly moving Megan from ICU to a surgical room this coming weekend. Nothing definite yet.

I am in the process of setting up a Caring Bridge website. Once complete I will send the website address to you all.

I will post the Caringbridge website address on this blog as soon as I receive it so that you can continue to marvel and pray.  For now, let's just keep storming heaven with thanks and prayers for continued health and healing for these three miracles in Mississippi!

Megan Update and Praise Report!

After a widespread power outage that has kept me unplugged this afternoon, I was thrilled to hear the hum of lights and the beep of my computer when our energy company restored electricity just now so that I could post this wonderful update from Megan's Mother-in-Law, Donna.  Here is the word straight from her:

God is still in the miracle business, thanks to all your prayers!! Was greeted with a miracle in MS mid- morning!

Megan began waking and stirring this morning. She is still quite groggy but she recognizes family and friends. When she was asked if she wanted to see her babies she smiled and shook her head yes.

During delivery Megan had something occur that we're told by doctors only averages once per year. When it does happen, rarely does the mother survive. During the c-section the amniotic fluid somehow mixed with Megan's blood. As a result, the fluid interfered with the oxygen in Megan's blood and prevented Megan from getting oxygen to her lungs. Immediately after Holden was lifted out Megan stated "my chest hurts," her eyes rolled back in her head and she stopped breathing. Kreig was immediately taken out of the room and work began on Megan.

Megan's day today, Wednesday, is 180 degrees from yesterday! She is still in critical condition but this afternoon the doctor shared that her numbers, percentages and vitals look good. She is sleeping so that her body can heal.

I met Evie Caroline and Holden today. They are beautiful! Evie has long feet like both her parents and lots of dark hair. Each premature baby at their hospital is in a private room with a dedicated, round the clock nurse. Spoke with their doctor and he confirmed a long road, but so far both babies are responding well.

Thank you all for your prayers! Please continue! I love you all!
Donna

Bell family, the prayers will continue for your sweet babies and precious Megan!  I know there are tough days of recovery ahead, but I plan to keep praying and believing on your behalves-- and I trust that everyone who reads this will join me.

I also want to send up some serious praise and thanksgiving to The Lord!  Thank you God for hearing the pleas of Your people.

Prayers Needed!

I have very much been a blogging slacker since taking on a huge freelance project that involved writing 25 scripts just over a month ago, but this morning I am compelled to take the time to post this prayer request for Megan Bell and her family.  Megan is a friend's daughter-in-law who was joyously expecting her first children (twins) in a few months. 

Last week, she went into premature labor was hospitalized so that doctors could try to keep the babies in utero until 28 weeks (two more weeks I think) but yesterday they had to perform an emergency C-section.  The babies, Evie and Holden, each weigh less than 2 pounds and are in the NICU--so they surely need prayer. 

Even more urgent though, Megan was deprived of oxygen during the delivery and is unresponsive.  Kreig, Megan's husband has been by her side during the entire ordeal and now faces the heart-wrenching dilemma of leaving his children at one hospital to accompany his critically ill wife to another.

Kreig and Megan are devoted followers of Jesus Christ and have many friends who are praying fervently for them. Will you join the prayer army by asking that God do the miraculous on Megan's behalf?  Doctors have told the family that she will need to FIGHT to stay with us.  Please pray that she'll have the strength to do that, and that The Father will lovingly, restoratively touch her body and the bodies of her little babies.  Also, please pray for Kreig and the rest of the family who are all struggling to make sense of this sudden, unexpected trial, but are holding on to their faith and hope with tenacity.  I so appreciate that I can make this ask of just about everyone I know who reads my blog.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Love,
Sandy

Random Pop Up Problem

If you log on to my blog and get a random pop up from "blogspot.es" congratulating you for being visitor # whatever and asking you to complete a survey, will you please let me know.  I'm battling that issue and will move my blog to another location if this continues because I have not allowed that, nor have I added anything that should be causing it.  Thanks much!

Oh BOY!

I was privileged to be invited to tag along for Leslie's ultrasound yesterday. It was amazing to see the images of our new little grandchild enjoying his pre-birth experience, and it's beyond exciting to know that this little person, created in the image of our living, loving God, will make a debut in just a few months. We are thrilled to announce that we're going to welcome a little boy into our currently very pink world.  Congratulations Leslie, Steven and girls! 

I have to add (for those who love and remember Tiffany and who are aware of the important role she has played in my life and Leslie's) that she knew with 100% certainty this was a baby boy and she texted that to Leslie just before she became so ill, one more confirmation of the incredible connection she had with our family--a reminder of her uncanny insight--and another reason I miss her every day.

Happy Heavenly Birthday Tiffany!

Heaven. It's ethereal, yet substantive. It is not simply a concept or a figment of the active imaginations of man according to the Bible. Still, many wonder about it.

Scripture gives us glimpses of what Heaven is like, affirming its existence, detailing its magnificence, and assuring us that the same God who fashioned our breathtaking universe is its Creator. Every awe inspiring vision of majestic beauty that our human eyes have seen pales in comparison to what Heaven will be like, and each of the writers of scripture who tried to describe God's Heavenly preview, found human language inadequate to express its grandeur.

I am thinking a lot about Heaven today. Tiffany April Smith Pate will be celebrating her first Heavenly birthday tomorrow. I know in my heart that it will be a celebration unparalleled by any earthly party imaginable, but that does not take away the ache in the hearts of those who miss her so.

This morning, I read about a vision of Heaven in the 6th chapter of Isaiah. Reading Isaiah's description of God's holiness is stunning. Particularly fascinating is verse 3:
They were calling out to each other,
“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Heaven’s Armies!
The whole earth is filled with his glory!”

What a picture! I do believe that no eye has seen, no ear has heard and no mind has conceived the amazing things God has prepared for those who trust in Christ as Lord! There is a place, a purpose and a promise that we who have our "Tikvah"--our Hope--in Jesus can confidently believe for our future.

For Tiffany, that time is now. Happy Heavenly Birthday beautiful friend! I love you.

Red and White, Sin and Snow...

"After all we've done for you, this is the thanks we get?"

That question has been the cry of many bewildered parents as they've watched their children make devastatingly harmful choices. As a mother, my heart grieves for friends and loved ones who deal with rebellious adolescent and adult children, and I'm reminded as I read the first four chapters of Isaiah that God knows exactly what that pain feels like.

In Isaiah's time, the nation of Israel was in crisis. Assyria was poised to engulf them, and Judah faced threats from surrounding nations. It was during those perilous days that Isaiah spoke to Israel and Judah, warning them of what was in store if they did not recognize the error of their ways and return to God.

Through Isaiah, God expressed His contempt for their meaningless expressions of ritualistic religiosity because He recognized the vast contrast between the actions of his people and the actual condition of their hearts. Maybe He was thinking, "After all I've done for you...".

I cannot improve on Isaiah's words and they need no explanation. My prayer is that God will never turn His ears from me or those I love because of empty religion or rebellion, and that we will heed His challenge to care for widows, orphans and the oppressed because just as in the day of this bold prophet, there is a hurting world out there that needs to know our living, forgiving God.

Isaiah 1:

11 “What makes you think I want all your sacrifices?”
says the Lord.
“I am sick of your burnt offerings of rams
and the fat of fattened cattle.
I get no pleasure from the blood
of bulls and lambs and goats.
12 When you come to worship me,
who asked you to parade through my courts with all your ceremony?
13 Stop bringing me your meaningless gifts;
the incense of your offerings disgusts me!
As for your celebrations of the new moon and the Sabbath
and your special days for fasting—
they are all sinful and false.
I want no more of your pious meetings.
14 I hate your new moon celebrations and your annual festivals.
They are a burden to me. I cannot stand them!
15 When you lift up your hands in prayer, I will not look.
Though you offer many prayers, I will not listen,
for your hands are covered with the blood of innocent victims.
16 Wash yourselves and be clean!
Get your sins out of my sight.
Give up your evil ways.
17 Learn to do good.
Seek justice.
Help the oppressed.
Defend the cause of orphans.
Fight for the rights of widows.
18 “Come now, let’s settle this,”
says the Lord.
“Though your sins are like scarlet,
I will make them as white as snow.
Though they are red like crimson,
I will make them as white as wool.

Today~

I am...

consumed
overwhelmed
perplexed
amazed

certain
confused
secure
unafraid

what is this? my survival
depends on a love that has no rival

baffled
surrounded
inspired
impressed

hopeful
peaceful
prayerful
caressed

what is this? words don't suffice
love supernatural, its source gives me life

intrigued
entranced
steadfast
unbothered

speechless
exposed
Heavenly Fathered

what is this? a gentle embrace
speaks to my questions with sweet, saving grace.

Where is Tiffany Pate? Let me just tell you...

One of my dearest friends, Christa Pratt, was unable to attend Tiffany's memorial service because she and her family had flown to Pennsylvania for spring break to spend time with family.

Christa was one of Tiffany's most loyal friends and prayer warriors. When I told her that I'd be speaking at the service, she sent me some of her thoughts hoping to encourage me as I prayed and prepared for that difficult evening.

This morning I was thinking about Tiffany, her boys, and Brian, and I returned to Christa's note for comfort as I have many times since April 4th. Because what she shared offers such a vivid reminder of where Tiffany is and what she is experiencing now, I am sharing it here so that others like me who are missing her today might be reminded of the hope we have in Christ's promise of eternal life that is beyond our comprehension in terms of its magnificence.

So thank you Christa, your words are precious and beautiful and you have helped me remember that Tiffany is enjoying unimaginable sights, incredible joy and perfect healing.

Thoughts about Tiffany
by Christa Pratt

I am here -
Feeling the warm sun on my face
But you have seen the Son, whose face warms all of heaven

Listening to the birds sing
But you have heard the singing of the heavenly hosts as they sing "Glory to God in the highest."

Hearing the soft roar of traffic on asphalt road
But you are walking streets of gold

Watching families reunite
But you are reuniting with friends and families long and dearly missed.

Feeling the spring breeze on my back
But you have felt the wind of the Holy Spirit unhindered by sin and this fallen world.

Missing you in the space of this moment
But you have seen the length, breadth, and depth of eternity

Seeing through a veil dimly, questioning why you had to go
But you have seen Him face to face with clarity and understanding

Remembering your passion, love and fire
But you are hearing "Well done my good and faithful servant."

Knowing that one day all who mourn you will be with you once more.

Amen, Christa. She is there basking in the light of His glory and one day soon, we will see her and Him!

You Can't Make This Up...

Yesterday, it occurred to me that I really needed to read, pray and study so that I could get back to my writing. I have done a lot of praying since losing Tiffany, but only a little reading and less studying, and I've learned from experience that my good habits are easily broken and bad ones are easily established. So, my intention was to have some quality quiet time when I got home from work and I was determined that nothing would undermine my plan. But then...

When I pulled into my driveway I thought to myself, hmmm, that new hammock of George's would be a great place to read since it's such a gorgeous afternoon. Sounds nice so far, right?


I poured myself a glass of ice water, slathered sunscreen on my paper white legs, and positioned my beach towel on the hammock perfectly. After sitting sideways with my feet on the ground for a few minutes, I decided that I was going to recline in the hammock properly, so I slowly (and I emphasize slowly here) eased my way around, only to be flipped like a hamburger onto the pavement (exactly like something you'd see in a cartoon or on America's Funniest Home Videos). Fortunately, there was no camera unless Google Earth caught the show.

A bruised knee, toe and forehead later, I was undaunted. In my mind, the stupid unstretched hammock had met its match. So, I brushed myself off, dabbed up a little bit of blood, and started again. This time, I proceeded even more cautiously and balanced myself perfectly in the center of the hammock with great success. The breeze was blowing, the sun was shining, my toe, foot and head were stinging, but otherwise all was perfect. I was enjoying God's Word in God's world and it was a wonderful thing. For about three minutes.


Something landed on my stomach--at first I believed it to be a wayward sprig from the massive oak overhead--but upon inspection I discovered that it was a yellow jacket. Now I don't freak out or panic over bees, but I don't love them either, so I gently tried to swat Mr. Bee away. But instead of flying to another spot, he decided to fly south--down between me and the hammock--specifically my derriere and the hammock.

At that point, I realized that I again needed to exit the hammock or risk a bee sting on the butt. Neither one a desirable option, the only way I could ensure that I didn't squish him (guaranteeing a sting) was to again propel myself out of the hammock in rolling fashion. So yes, it happened twice, first by accident, second by choice, and I was not happy.

Still, I was determined to continue my study so I made the decision to move to one of the lounge chairs opposite the hammock. The adjacent umbrella needed to be moved because the afternoon sun was now beaming directly onto the chairs, so as I tried to roll it around, I knocked over a newly potted plant that my gardener extraordinaire (George) had just lovingly placed between the two chaises.



As I scooped handfuls of potting soil back into the pot in my lame attempt to rescue the plant (that was broken at the stem) my mind was racing. I am either the world's #1 klutz or this is some kind of cosmic joke or somebody really did not want me to study the Word or all of the above or maybe there is a hidden camera and I'm the brunt of a not so funny to me joke or .... you get the picture.

By this point, it wasn't going to be long before George would be home from work and ready to know what was for dinner. But first, I was going to wash away the remaining dirt that I couldn't scoop with my hands so when I shared my afternoon's misadventures with my husband I could add that even though I killed the plant, I had cleaned up my mess. But that is where my final mishap of the afternoon takes place. I walked barefoot over to the spigot where the garden hose was attached and stepped on some sort of mean, mean bug with teeth. Yes, I did.

So...all this to say that I plan to resume my chronological Bible study reading and writing soon, but yesterday was not my day.

Celebrating Tiffany Pate, part two

For the benefit of those who were unable to attend Tiffany's Memorial Service, I am importing the thoughts I shared last night in tribute to her legacy. I hope as you read this, you will be inspired to go and do likewise. There is no better way for us to honor her memory and celebrate her life!

Tiffany April Smith Pate Memorial Tribute

My name is Sandy Broome and Tiffany Pate was my friend. But not just any friend, she was a friend with whom I shared a bond that transcended the ordinary, ours was a spiritual kinship.

Last week, as we watched, waited and prayed at the hospital, Brian shared with me that Tiffany had requested that if God called her home, she wanted me to speak at her memorial service.

Brian, Landon, Ridge, family, and friends, I could not be more honored or humbled to have the opportunity to share a few thoughts about one of the most courageous, amazing women I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.

In 1996, a young woman I’d worked in youth ministry with named Jennifer Dowell mentioned that she had some girlfriends who wanted to get together to study the Bible but they needed a leader and asked if I’d consider teaching them. Tiffany was one of the girls who joined the group and almost from the start she challenged me with her deep, contemplative questions, her hunger to find and know truth, and her quest to discover more of what life in relationship with Christ was all about.

It seemed that for Tiffany, the more she learned, the greater her hunger to know more. Often, she called me with questions that I’d never even considered, so we’d dig in to scripture and discuss God’s Word for hours.

But Tiffany wasn’t just a learner or hearer, she took literally the admonition of James 1:22 which says: But be doers of the word, and not hearers only… In every aspect of her life, Tiffany looked to God’s Word for her direction.

As a young wife she called me with questions about how to please God in terms of relating to Brian. When Landon and Ridge came along, she wanted to be certain beyond any doubt that she was a “doer of the word” as a mother.

As a daughter, Tiffany wanted to honor her father and her mother and it was the same with every relationship—if it pleased God and was scriptural, that was the path she chose.

Now as I say all that, I also know that Tiffany would be devastated to think that I (or anyone) would put her on a pedestal because she was nothing if not unassuming and humble. I can recall numerous conversations that revolved around the difference between conviction that genuinely comes from God and condemnation that comes from man or our enemy Satan. Tiffany’s concern about whether she pleased God was rare and beautiful. And that brings me to a point that I know she would want me to make tonight: She did not want any glory, she only wanted to glorify her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

And that is exactly what her legacy is all about. She lived for him and she died in Him, and tonight, we who are grieving the loss of one of the rarest of the rare, celebrate a life that was lived the way we all should live—in light of eternity.

Tiffany lived every day intentionally and she taught me—her supposed teacher—many, many things.

She embodied the essence of selfless love and compassionate concern. I could share for hours about specific times that Tiffany did something sacrificially generous for me or someone in my family.

But she didn’t simply bless and reach out to people she knew, Tiffany loved and cared about everyone that God put in her path. Brian told me that one night as their family was walking into a restaurant, a homeless man approached them and he quickly darted by without making eye contact. He and the boys got inside the restaurant and turned around and Tiffany wasn’t with them. He went back outside and found her inviting the homeless person to have dinner with their family. Tiffany loved the lonely, the lost, and the forgotten and she demonstrated it by her actions as a doer of the Word.

Amanda, Tiffany’s little sister, lost her first tooth when Tiffany was probably around 13 years old. That night, afraid that the tooth fairy would forget, Tiffany took $5 of her own money and placed it under Amanda’s pillow while she was sleeping. The next morning, Amanda, thrilled to find a hefty sum for her tooth was running around shouting about her new found riches only to learn that there really must be a tooth fairy since Tiffany had only left $5 and there was a good deal more under that pillow! Tiffany loved her parents, sisters and brother, and she demonstrated it by her actions as a doer of the Word.

Pam, Tiffany’s mother, was keeping Landon and Ridge a few weeks ago and it happened to be St. Patrick’s Day eve. Late that night, one of the boys casually asked when the Leprechaun was coming to bring their candy, sending Pam and Buddy into “uh oh” mode! I’m told that it wasn’t uncommon to see green Leprechaun footprints that had left a trail from the back door of their house up the cabinet and right to the candy that he left for the boys each year in March… so just imagine other holidays at the Pate house if so much attention was paid to St. Patrick’s Day!

On April 28, 2004 Tiffany wrote in her Bible these words:
My greatest struggle in life is allowing myself to release my children completely to God’s Will. I worry for them and their future constantly. One day, my hope is that I will sincerely realize that God’s plan and will for their lives is far greater than anything I could ever provide for them on earth. My job is to believe this with all my heart and provide them with guidance that will lead them to God’s feet so that one day they may choose God’s will for their lives of their own free will. May God help me on this journey as I search for this peace! One day I hope to release my children to God and mean it with all my heart!

About a year ago she said to me: Sandy, I finally get it! My children are better off in God’s arms than on my lap. Tiffany loved her children, and she demonstrated it by her actions as a doer of the word.

Tiffany called me a several years ago and announced that she was going to go back to school to get another degree. When I asked her about it, she said she wanted to be a nurse, something she’d always dreamed of doing because it was a way to serve and care for people and it would allow her to help supplement the family income so that Brian wouldn’t have to work day and night to provide for the family. She never failed to brag on Brian, what an amazing provider, husband and father he was, and how much she wanted to bless him. She loved her Husband and she demonstrated it by her actions as a doer of the Word.

So, why all this emphasis on Tiffany’s actions? Because her actions were a result of her faith. She was compelled by her love for Jesus to care, to give, to serve and to love.

When she was diagnosed with cancer, she told me that if this was God’s plan for her life so that someone would be touched by God’s amazing grace, it would be worth whatever that meant for her future. Do you have that kind of peace? Do you understand that depth of love?

In order to have peace like Tiffany, we first have to understand truth. We have to know what God has to say about life and what God has to say about death. Tiffany wanted everyone she knew to have knowledge and understanding of God’s Word. She took advantage of every feasible opportunity to participate in Bible Studies, and many of you were in those studies with her through the years.

Those of us fortunate enough to have studied God's Word with her represent a small segment of the total number of the individuals who would love to share something amazing about an experience with Tiffany and with God.

But let’s face it, as much as so many of us love the Lord, as fully as we trust Him, and as confident as we are in Romans 8:28, it totally stinks that Tiffany’s cancer did not end as so many of us prayed –with miraculous physical healing. Like many of you, I begged the Lord to leave her here on earth with her family and with us.

My prayer partners and I fasted, praying scripture verses and asking for her healing daily, sometimes hourly. We prayed Psalm 91, 1 Peter 2, Isaiah 55, Matthew 8, Exodus 15, and many others, asking God to mercifully grant our request for her life to be extended.

Two weeks ago, when her fragile body seemed to be deteriorating so rapidly as the cancer spread, Christa Pratt and I began to focus our prayers on a particular passage in John 11.

One of Jesus’ dearest friends, Lazarus, was very sick and near death. His sisters, Mary and Martha, sent out a desperate plea for Jesus to come and help. I imagine that knowing how much he claimed to love them, they were waiting by the window, anticipating that He would get there in the nick of time to save their beloved brother. If you’re familiar with the account, you know that was not the case and Lazarus died, but after his burial, Jesus finally arrived and called him up out of the grave.

Seeing precious Tiffany so weakened and ill, Christa and I camped out on verse 4 which reads: When he heard this, Jesus said, "This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory so that God's Son may be glorified through it."

Like many of you, we believed that God was going to show up just like he did for Lazarus and do something that would have no human explanation. So…could he have? Yes. Definitely! Absolutely! Without a shadow of a doubt He could have-- because He is the same today and tomorrow as yesterday according to Hebrews 13:8.

So why didn’t He? And what will that do to our faith? I hope if you’ve asked yourself those questions, you’ll allow me to tell you what I think Tiffany would want us to know.

First, her faith in and love for God compelled her to pray as Jesus did before His crucifixion when he said if there is any other way Father, let this suffering pass from me, nevertheless, not my will but yours be done.

It’s an incorrect view of scripture to think that we will always comprehend what God is doing or how suffering or disappointment fit into His big picture. We are not prohibited from “trying” to understand, but Proverbs 3 surely reminds us that we aren’t to LEAN on our ability to make the pieces fit. Reducing something as heartbreaking as losing a person like Tiffany to simplistic platitudes like, “God needed another flower for his heavenly garden,” must break the heart of God if he indeed is a LOVING Heavenly Father!

Tiffany confided in me that her only remaining fear was that if she didn’t beat this cancer, it might diminish someone’s faith in God’s greatness. What she wanted us to know is that she understood that we may not be able to explain all the heartache that happens in this imperfect, fallen world, but our soon coming, Sovereign Lord will one day end all suffering, all sickness, and all injustice, and He will set all accounts straight! But most of all, He can be trusted.

Written by her own hand in her Bible, dated April 28, 2004, are these words:
My hope is based on my sincere belief that God sent his Son, Jesus Christ, to die for my sins. Through Christ’s resurrection, I know that my future holds eternal life. I can find hope and joy in each day because I know that I was born to serve a purpose in God’s perfect will and all of the circumstances I face in my life on earth though good or bad, serve a greater purpose for God! In Jeremiah 29:11 God promises me that He knows his plan for me—Hope and a future! When we walk as children of the light, darkness cannot prevail!

When Tiffany learned that she had cancer, she had a sign made for her car that read: My God is bigger than cancer, and she believed that with every fiber of her being. As this battle began, she also shared that God had given her a Hebrew word that she knew was His special message to her. The word, Tikvah, means “HOPE, waiting in expectation!” Thanks to her friend Holly Stokes, the word Tikvah and its definition, written in Tiffany’s own handwriting, has been copied on cards for each of us to take home as a reminder of Tiffany’s steadfast expectancy and hopeful faith!

Her Tikvah--her hope-- was built on the solid foundation of her faith walk with Jesus Christ. Tiffany wasn’t religious, she was in a life changing relationship with Jesus! She lived the way we all should, for His Glory alone.

Think about it, we are here only for a moment. Our REAL life (the life we are in dress rehearsal for while we’re on the earth) lasts for all eternity. Tiffany believed ALL of God’s Word including 1 Corinthians 2:9 which reads: “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him.”

For Tiffany, the dress rehearsal is over and her REAL LIFE has begun. She is where she was preparing to go for as long as I’ve known her, and she wants us to know that her HOPE is realized! She has heard The Savior speak her name and welcome her home, and she’s waiting expectantly (with Tikvah) for us, you and me, in heaven. Will she see you there? If you aren’t sure, see me and let’s talk! Until then, Tikvah, Tiffany! This separation is only temporary and I’ll see you soon my precious friend!

Celebrating the Life of Tiffany Pate

Tonight, I have finally composed myself and my thoughts enough to write a short note about one of the greatest, most precious women I have ever known. Tiffany Pate was not just my friend, she was my sister in Christ, and I will never be the same as a result of having known her.

I will save the things I most want to say about her for Monday night at her memorial service because she requested that I speak at her funeral if God called her home, but the beautiful thing is that for the most part, Tiffany will speak for herself. I will only be her mouthpiece because she didn't just leave behind adoring family and friends, she left behind volumes of writings and scripture passage notes that express her heart and I could not be more honored or humbled to have the privilege of sharing with all who gather what Tiffany had discovered.

Her life and legacy deserve to be celebrated and commemorated in the most special way possible, so I wanted to post the arrangements here for anyone who visits this page and is able to join her family for the service.

Tiffany's Memorial Service will be Monday night, April 5, at 7 p.m., at Flint Groves Baptist Church in Gastonia, NC.

I can't help but marvel at the timing of Tiff's homegoing. As we celebrate this resurrection Sunday, it's comforting to know that because He lives, so does she!

Tikvah, Tiffany Tikvah!