Deep Breath

Inhale...



(hold it for a sec...)



Exhale.

Finally I have a moment and the prerequisite clarity of mind to sit down and summarize the last few weeks. Sheesh... Guess it's been a month since I last posted... It's kind of all been a blur, really. I've had a few notes from friends asking, "Are you okay? You haven't blogged in a while!" That kind of makes me laugh a bit, but it's also kind of shocking that so much time has passed since I've had much of an opportunity to do reflect in this venue. I did sit down once or twice to type, just to be interrupted or to run out of time (or the aforementioned clarity of mind) before I could finish the thread of thought. It's just been a crazy month since my last post. Here are some "news briefs" to summarize.

• The "Sisters By Heart" event on May 1 was an amazing experience. I'm pretty comfortable in front of a "crowd", typically-- I lead worship almost weekly at my church, I've "performed" in bands and various groups on stage, and the high school sports in which I participated were a pretty big deal in the community I grew up in, always drawing a crowd. I even spoke at my high school graduation. But delivering a "message" is a completely different ballgame, and it was quite an eye-opening experience for me. (Props to Ronn and my other pastor-friends who do this on a regular basis!) The study, prayer, and meditation in preparation was great for my mind, and the night of the event was good for my heart. After stuttering and stumbling through the first thirty seconds or so, I got into my groove (and my outline) and just shared what was on my heart-- what God has been teaching me. I know some of the ladies who were there read this blog, so to them I say a great big, "thanks again! It was a truly awesome time!" I got a little long-winded (I know... BIG shocker!), and went about 15 minutes over my "target" time during the message... and the Q & A was a lot more A than Q. (Ronn even warned me about this in his little "pep talk" he gave me while I was preparing.) But overall, I was just humbled and encouraged by the discussion that went on. And of course, the objective was met-- that is, God was glorified. Here's a link to the audio of the message and the Q & A. Well over an hour in total, just to warn you. (Feel free to skip the stumbling and stuttering first 30 seconds.) :) That evening, as it turns out, was just the beginning of an action-packed weekend that kicked off this crazy bunch of weeks... (And that's what they call in the Industry, "foreshadowing")...

• We wrapped things up in Ohio about 11pm that Friday night, and before 7am on Saturday I was at the starting line for the Indy 500 Festival Half-Marathon (downtown Indianapolis-- 3+ hours away from Wauseon, OH). I'd never done THAT before, either. A weekend of firsts, I guess. I did pretty well, considering my lack of talent, experience, and sleep the night before. Beat my "goal". (I'm not much of a goal-setter, but in this case, I was quite pleased with myself.) I'm not sure if it's actually physically possible for a person to run his or her legs off-- like, actually so they detach from the body-- but I met up in Indy with 34,999 other crazy people on May 2 to try to give it the ol' college try. What an experience! I even got to kiss the "Brick Yard" (finish line at the Motor Speedway), which marked the half-way point of the 13.1 mile course.

• So, with our legs barely attached, on Sunday Katie (who also ran the "Mini") and I met up with her sisters, bro's-in-law, and some friends at her townhouse in Broad Ripple. In the weeks leading up to the Mini, Katie had been busy landing a job in St. Charles, IL... and then an apartment in Aurora (only 15 minutes from TJ and me)... And on Sunday we packed all of her earthly possessions into a moving van and relocated her to the greater Chicagoland area. She's a local now!

• The last couple of weeks has been a "settling in" process for us all. Katie's got a 40 minute commute to/from her new job, sans traffic. So in addition to "the daily grind", she's trying to figure out a routine that allows for exercise, regular "bonding" time with TJ and me (dinner, evenings, whenever we can get it in), keeping an apartment, and some occasional socializing and relationship building with some new friends. (Thank you women of CrossTown for reaching out and loving her the way you have these past weeks!) This is a HUGE move for her-- new work, a new home, a new city, new friends... And of course, this process of growing into a "new life" with TJ and me. I mentioned at the top that I tried to blog once or twice these last several weeks. Well, I did manage to patchwork together one post, written in several installments, in which I reflect a little bit more on this "process". It needs to be updated a bit, but I will post it soon. We're just being taught so much each day, as we seek God's will in our relationship. Whew... more on that in weeks to come...

• On top of all that, work has been "active" for me, too. Work is going very well-- business is coming along nicely. We just moved our local offices from Schaumburg to Itasca in the past few weeks, which is quite a process in and of itself. Meanwhile, I've been traveling a bit more than normal, lately, which is always stressful on things at home. Things seem to be calming down a bit now-- or at least settling into some sort of "equilibrium"-- but these are all just things that add to the "blur" of the past month.

• Oh. And my fridge blew up. 100% food loss. (including the frozen goods.) So that took some time cleaning up... Upside is that I got a GREAT deal on my SWEET replacement, which is being delivered tonight.

• Oh. And my air conditioner broke. Just got fixed this afternoon. (Total damages this week, right around... well... more than I want to remember right now...)
  

• Oh. And it's yardwork season again. The rainy spring has made for some beautiful green lawns... that need frequent mowing. And my fence needs repairing. And my landscaping needs cleaning up. And so-on.

So there you go. That's what I've "been up to". There's my excuse for my absence from this blogspot, these past weeks. There is so much I'm learning, so much worthy of some time and effort to try to wrap some words around the truth that God is revealing these days... The love He's pouring into me. So, take a deep breath with me. Ahhhhhh.... And stay tuned!

"Dancing With God"-- an Invitation

• Who: All women, High School through "Golden Girls"
• What: "Dancing With God"-- the fourth and final installment of a serial women's conference entitled "Sisters By Heart", which began in November of 2008.
• When: Friday Night, May 1, 2009. 7pm to 10pm EDT.
• Where: Oasis Christian Fellowship, 400 Enterprise Ave., Wauseon, OH
• Cost: Free!

Program:

• 7:00 – Worship
• 7:35 – Laughter & Snacks
• 8:15 – Special Speaker: Tyson Aschliman
• 8:45 – Snacks and Q & A with Tyson
• 9:20 – Worship

A dear friend of Leslie-- and a fellow cancer warrior-- named Jessie called me several weeks back and asked if I'd be interested in speaking at her church's upcoming women's event. Yes, I first got a chuckle out of that too. It's seldom a good thing to be the only man in a room full of women. But the more I talked to Jessie, and heard her heart and what this thing was all about, I was indeed honored to be asked. And now I'm just plain excited about the whole thing.

These women have been exploring what an intimate relationship with God looks like, through the eyes of "today's woman". And, of course... what an intimate relationship with God looks like to God. It's impossible to summarize the powerful truth and heart-rending grace that has been exposed and explored among these "Sisters By Heart" over the past six months, but the organizer of the event gives it an excellent effort in a single sentence: "Freedom in Forgiveness (Nov.) leads me to experience more Peace (Jan) so that I can Hear from God (Mar) ... then I will Dance with God." Wow. Now THERE's a mouthful.

So I am honored to be speaking on this concept of "Dancing With God" on Friday May 1. The more I think and pray and read scriptures on the topic, the more my heart is stirred, because it is basically the essence of everything I've learned and lived for the past couple of years. I've said frequently that "Leslie taught me how to love. She taught me how to die. She taught me how to truly live." That is her ministry-- and not just to me, but to so many of you, as well. Well, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I can summarize what she taught me in this: "Through everything, I have learned to dance with God."

I shared at her memorial services that Leslie learned the hard way that the answer to every "WHY?" that can be asked is a very simple (but not easy) answer: To bring glory to God. Or, in a word... WORSHIP. The greatest command, according to Jesus, is to LOVE the LORD your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength. Which, not coincidentally, is the very definition of worship... to love the Lord with everything you've got. Everything you are. Worship is the expression of our love and honor of God. And when I think of the ultimate act of expression, I think of dancing. Movement set to music. A person's whole self engaging without hinderence or inhibition in the simple task of self-expression.

Dancing can be a remarkably sacred and intimate act-- as newlyweds and their "first dance" at the wedding reception. And it can be a powerful act of celebration and joy-- as the wedding party and guests get their collective groove on later on the same night. There are dances of mourning-- "dirges". There is a dance for every season of the human soul.

The very interaction of God and mankind can be summarized in the following metaphor: The Cross was the act of God Himself filling the room with music, clearing the crowded floor, walking across the room, and asking His bride-to-be once and for all, "May I have this dance?"

So, who feels like dancing? Come and join us at Oasis in Wauseon, OH on Monday May 1 as we explore what an intimate dance with God looks like. I've got two left feet, as anyone who's seen me dance will tell you. But as long as I've got feet, they will be set to dancing.

Conquered the Grave

Ask TJ why tomorrow is so special, and he'll tell you with an excited smile, "Because Jesus conquered the grave!" He of course is quoting his (and his mom's) favorite worship song-- "Mighty to Save". Oh, the child-like faith! TJ is absolutely STOKED for Easter. Sure, the egg hunt and dinner with the cousins after church get him excited... but more than that, he gets to sit with Gram and Gramps tomorrow and worship with us, as we celebrate the Resurrection. The advent of our faith. The event that gave us the hope we now have. The peace that we can let settle upon us when we remember Leslie... the anticipation of meeting her one day again. Tomorrow we celebrate our faith in the One to Whom we are redeemed. Today. Forever.

Friday was about a cross. A crown of thorns. Friday night's service moved me deeply in to a tearful place of pain and repentance. I thought of death. I thought of Leslie's death. Of the fate the God-Man gave Himself to, willingly, that Leslie could have hope throughout her own battle... throughout her journey toward her own "empty tomb". Katie's sister Sarah-- profoundly enough-- just celebrated her 4th "birthday" in Heaven, on Good Friday this year. Katie wrestles with the emotional complexity of death, suffering, pain, resurrection, hope, and faith on her blog Friday night.

Good Friday. What an ironic concept. What's "GOOD" about a man suffering in pain and humiliation on the epitome of evil symbols-- that horribly human torture device... that cross... GOOD Friday?! What is GOOD about dying? Certainly we can say, "she's not suffering anymore". At least there's that... But at its very basic level, death is anything but good. In fact, the opposite of good. Anything that is not good is evil. Evil leads to death. ("for the wages of sin...") Sin-- DEATH-- is really what that cross is about.

The perfect man-- in His very nature, fully GOD-- knows death. He volunteered for it. Humbled Himself to it. So that He could stand there with outstretched arms, welcoming His children home. We are all dying. Some don't realize it until moments before we breathe our last. But indeed, the plight of man is that our days our numbered. However, because Jesus did what He did, no one ever again-- in that moment in which death falls upon them, nor anywhere in the "life process" leading up to that moment-- can ever again call out, "My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?" Jesus died that no one would again be forsaken at the hand of death.

Yes, Good Friday-- this year, more than any other in my own life-- was about death. Death of Jesus. Death of Leslie. Death of Sarah. The eventual death of even me. Yet, as I poured myself into that night of communion, I couldn't shake this mysterious hope... that the perfect plan-- the purpose-- of this cross and the death it represents, isn't really about the end of a life. It's about the death of SIN... The death of DEATH itself.

I will praise my Savior tomorrow, with all I have within me, that, while Friday was about a bloody cross, SUNDAY, my friends... SUNDAY is about an EMPTY TOMB!! It's tomorrow, Easter... Resurrection Sunday... that JESUS CONQUERED THE GRAVE! Leslie knows that truth more than ever this night. So do I-- though surely not to the extent that she does.

Friday, my sin-- my self-- was laid bare. Crucified with Jesus on the Cross. Tomorrow... In a few short hours, I will raise my arms and open my hands and receive the fullness of life that results. I will drink of His Resurrection. I will testify to the redemption of His people. I will join with the Heavens-- the angels and those whom, like Leslie, have gone before us-- and all creation and proclaim our RISEN LORD!

Enjoy this Easter, friends. For tomorrow is the single day that represents the very essence of joy in this life... that empty tomb.

Confession, Redemption, and the Earthen Vessel

I have a confession to make. I have something I need to make right. I have truth to share that I have hidden. “Hide it under a bushel, NO! I’m gonna let it shine…” TJ sings from time to time.

This whole blog thing is founded on a simple philosophy to which I espouse in all my relationships: that the truth offered in love is never a bad thing. Leslie and I chose to live transparently and open up an honest dialogue for the entire world to witness as you so desired, as together we faced the battle for her very life. We exposed our weakness, brokenness, frustration, fear, and pain. We rejoiced in the answered prayers, encouragement, quiet joy, and senseless peace. We explored the complex truth that, in all things-- indeed, even in intense suffering-- God is good. ("ALL the time!") And God was glorified in all of it. It was Leslie’s ministry. It is a ministry I have felt compelled to maintain in her absence. The idea is that if one walks in the light, one has nothing to hide. And when light exposes the truth within the human soul, God will be known... and He will therefore glorified.

“The great thing about the blog,” Ronn said to me on Sunday, “is that it’s real. Raw. From when you first started it, until now. You allow people to come alongside of you and see everything as you see it. To witness things as they are, without apology or translation... you just say, ‘This is what God’s doing, as crazy as it is.’ Tyson, don’t be afraid to share the good stuff with the same kind of raw transparency. Don’t be afraid to share God’s goodness in His blessings, along with His faithfulness through trial and suffering.”

My friends, I confess it is all too easy to share with you and focus on the emotional struggles and burdens that TJ and I (along with Leslie’s friends and family) experience on a weekly basis, all the while giving praise and glory to God for His faithfulness and goodness in the midst of those trials. And I have a sense that’s probably the stuff many of you expect—even want—to read. People want to know that I’m "suffering well". "Grieving well". Continuing to praise God “in the storm”. Certainly, I have grieved deeply—although it has looked nothing like I thought it would. Indeed everyone's grief takes a different form, and it's not something a person necessarily chooses. And the truth is that I am not the only one who lost Leslie. Just take a look at my “birthday” post. 100 comments and counting. What a testament to God’s wonderful gift to us all in His child Leslie! What an amazing woman! While I am encouraged deeply by all those comments, my heart is constantly burdened with the grief of Dana, Mom, Leslie’s family, her friends… I see it on the faces of the loved ones who miss her deeply. I read the words of anonymous strangers who never met her, and yet feel they have lost a dear friend and sister. And I have realized that I’ve been falsely assuming responsibility for the “grieving process” of the masses. It has prevented me from walking in the light, with freedom to proclaim the goodness of God—more concrete evidence of His faithfulness… that indeed, though the sorrow may last for the night, His joy DOES truly come in the morning. Friends, I’m seeing the sunrise. And it is foolishness for me to try to conceal it.

Last Tuesday I talked to Mom and Dana. I told them how much I love them. I told them how much I loved their Leslie. And then I told them something else. And now I’m bringing the thought into this venue. I’ve reached a startling realization… In the name of “sensitivity” and “compassion for those hurting”, I’ve not fully expressed the goodness of the blessings that God is pouring into my life… Namely… I have not truly shared with you the miracle of Katie.

Sure, I blogged about her here and there. But I haven’t really done justice-- in this venue and in other relationships with people who loved and miss Leslie-- to the fullness of God’s “redemption story”, which He is powerfully writing in my life. Katie has literally been a miraculous blessing of grace and loving kindness in my day-to-day life. She is my redemption. My new life. My "today". Why, if I’ve written in full transparency and honesty in all the “hard times”, would I not be all the more eager to share the miraculous blessings that have come along the way? In my sensitivity to others and in the burden of my perceived expectation of the masses of what “grieving” should look like in the life of a man in my situation, I have somehow tried to hide or temper the goodness that God is blessing me with in my daily life.

I am in love, friends. With a woman who God seems to have been preparing—as unlikely as it may seem—for me.You might ask, “How?” How is it possible? How can he just "move on" like that? Indeed, many friends and family members have asked, “What is it like, Ty? I mean… aren’t you constantly comparing her to Leslie? What is it like to be with someone else… in a relationship?” It’s a legitimate question. Let me try to answer as best I can.

What is the part of a person that contains love for another in this life? It's not the heart-- that's a physical organ that pumps blood through the body. I can't say for sure it's the soul-- we don't take our marriages to Heaven with us (as hard as that fact is for many of us to accept). It's not the mind-- not a mere emotion or thought. Not the body-- it's not just a "feeling" or "sensation". It's something more... For our purposes (because it fits the analogy so wonderfully), we'll just refer to it as this "vessel". The vessels of Leslie's and my love were formed from the very stuff that we were both made up of-- and were in time formed into "one". It was beautifully and masterfully shaped by the Potter Himself, and was constantly poured out into each other and filled back up by this Potter. It was its own unique shape and size. Indeed, there were difficulties that would arise through the years, the stress of which would cause a crack in the vessel. In prayer and faith and commitment to one another, we would rely on the Potter to do His necessary repairs. This process would lead inevitably to a stronger, bigger, more beautiful vessel. All the more glorifying to Him.

Well, on July 26, 2008, this vessel wasn't just cracked. It was shattered. All the love it contained was spilled out like wine on the floor when the waiter drops the uncorked bottle.

Obliterated. Irreparable. Without Leslie here to live it with, our earthly love relationship ceased to exist. It was no longer a partnership. No longer a marriage. It was a remnant. Incomplete. Expired. Only shattered bits and pieces remained.

As if that wasn't enough for a vessel to have to endure, the Potter was only getting started with having His way with the mess that remained. First, He went about picking up the pieces of the vessel, (He never lost a single sliver, compassionate and sovereign as He is), and then after He gathered the pieces, He laid them out to dry on His workbench. He then took out his first tool—no, not a bottle of glue. Not a pair of tweezers. Nor some new clay with which He could go about piecing the shattered vessel back together... No, He took out a hammer. He went to work crushing the remnants of this vessel into a fine, dry dust. No piece was left uncrushed. Only a pile of earthen powder remained. Then, He left His workmanship—pathetic mess that it was—laying there for a time... Until He saw fit to take His next creative action. (By the way, for those of you "tracking" with the story at this point, I have learned with all certainty that there is no consistency as to what kind of timeline God deems necessary. There is no quota or number of days or months or years. He will simply move when He chooses to move. Not a minute sooner. Not a second later. The trick is, being the subject of His creative moving—that pathetic pile of dust that I am—to neither delay nor rush His timing. This is a challenge that requires constant prayer, vicious faith, and a whole lot of His grace. And don't think for a minute that this truth only applies to grieving and "moving on".)

So, what is His next creative action? He is moved to tears.

In my case, I recall the moment. (That "Shower Prayer", as I've come to know it, a couple months after Leslie died, as reflected upon in this blog months later.) He is moved in His compassion, recalling His own life on the earth-- the trial, the abandonment, the burden, the pain, the cross-- and the tears fall onto the workbench, soaking the pile of dust which is all that is left of the original vessel. He begins to work the resulting mud with His hands again... soon, a new lump of clay is before Him. (You now may see where this is going.)

The Potter throws the newly tear-wetted clay back onto the wheel, and He spins it. He shapes and forms and molds and loves this new vessel, with all the care that He did the first. And all the creativity, as well, for this new vessel is a completely different shape, size and form than its predecessor. Or rather... it is different than it was the first time around. (For is it, really, a completely and differently new vessel, after all? Isn't it made of the very stuff from which the first one was fashioned?) But it's not the same vessel... it is renewed.

Redeemed.

When this renewed, reformed vessel is again filled up by the Potter, it is as if it has never been filled before... like the new wineskin. It is a new shape. A different size. A different vessel. But it is something even more beautiful, for it is made up of the very stuff-- the wisdom, maturity, experience, the memories-- from which the "old wineskin" was made... that first vessel, complete with all its tempering, patched cracks, and character.

Friends, I can't explain "how" or "why". Indeed, the more something can be fully explained by man, the less likely it is fully of God, amen? Who, after all, can fathom His ways? Who can explain the will and plan of the Almighty? Who can wrap their arms around the love of the Father? Who can know the suffering-- and resulting grace-- of the Savior? My attempt at explaining this miracle is like my attempts at worship... The more perfect and beautiful my song, the more humbled I am at how far it falls short of that of which He is truly worthy. Or, it's like science. The more we seek out and learn about creation-- from the expanses of the universe to the finest details of cell structures-- the more we realize how little it is we actually know. How little we can control.

This is the metaphor—this earthen vessel—that keeps popping into my mind as I try to make sense of the miracle of Katie in my life. Still, it’s unfathomable. The intense joy—even happiness—we’re experiencing. How everything is so new, like I've never been here before. But how in every moment I am entirely aware of the life I have lost (or is it "gained"?) with Leslie. The complexity... And the timing! Not at all what I expected, asked for, or even hoped for. But we can’t deny His goodness. His blessings.

Certainly, it is hard. For her. For me. We were just talking last week about this. I said to her, “Katie, you’re crazy. You realize that, right? I mean… you choose to be here. In this ‘first year’, and all the tough things I’ve got to face. And you stay here at my side as I experience all the firsts. The anniversary. The birthday. You know, I’d wait for you. If you said, ‘call me this time next year’, I would. But you are choosing to be here with me now.”

“It takes an amazing woman to do that,” several in my family have said to me. Well, she is an amazing woman-- seemingly shaped and molded by the hand of the Almighty, “for such a time as this”. For me. Crazy thing is… I'm realizing that God has also been molding and shaping and preparing me for her, throughout the course of my life, including these last couple of years. It’s hard to wrap your head around, I know. But again… that should be of no surprise to any of us, if it’s truly of God. This, my friends, is the redemption story-- the miraculous healing-- that you’ve all been praying for. It’s not at all what you thought it would look like. Not at all what I thought I was asking for. Not what I desired in the moment of those tear-soaked prayers of pleading. Yet somehow... it's exactly what we were asking for all along. That’s how God has worked throughout history. (The Pharisees were indeed hoping and praying for the coming of the Messiah, but couldn’t recognize Him when He stood right in front of their very eyes, even though He was fulfilling every messianic prophecy ever uttered. They just expected something different.) Yes, we’re in love. Yes, I am eternally thankful for Leslie. (So is Katie!) Yes, it is “soon”. But, it is what it is. Or rather, God is Who He is.

I’ll close with this, because it is a powerful symbol of all the complexities and beauty that this new love brings to life each day, and it will allow me to share a little more of this woman-- this miracle-- with you all. I think it will give you all a wonderful little glimpse into the powerful and beautiful and mysterious ways in which God is working here...

Katie wrote a “birthday” note to Leslie. She didn’t post it on the blog "e-card", because she didn’t want to draw undue attention to herself, or to stifle the conversation. But she sent it to me, my sister, my mom-in-law (who sent it to Dana), and Anna. Here and now, I share it with you all...

--------------------

Hi there. I wanted to send this to you four. All of you have intricate places in my heart, I have your emails, and I know that the road incorporating me into Tyson's and TJ's life has not been easy. It's a complex road of healing. Anyway, with the recent blog post I did not want to deter from the comments. So here is my birthday wish/note to Leslie. Vicki, I haven't known how to communicate my love and thankfulness to you. Thank you for your note and your prayers. They mean so so much to me. I think that my thanking Leslie will be a good way for you to know my heart in all of this.


Leslie-

I know you have heard my heart in prayers to God; in thankfulness for letting me share in "your life" that you left on earth. You have heard my cries for understanding that you really are "ok" with this. That it is something you are happy with. And with confirmations and dreams and visions thank you for giving me just that.

Today, my sweet friend, I want to wish you the happiest of birthdays. As Tyson and TJ celebrate at Red Lobster, I am celebrating in my heart and probably with Anna as I see her tonight. There are just a few things on this very special occasion I want to tell you.

Oh the blog... you ministered and are ministering greatly through it. So thank you for writing during those hard weeks and months on your blog. As I go back and read the whole thing through, the hardest parts for my eyes to read are what you wrote. I stand in awe of how God strengthened you, in your innermost being, during those days. Thank you for your vulnerability. Thank you for living your life, very openly, with thousands. I assure you not one heart who has read your words has gone untouched.

As far as memories... babysitting TJ, learning to "swaddle" him, and hanging out with you at the lake house all stick out in my mind. I remember sitting at Anna's kitchen table, talking about my upcoming trip to Kenya, you picking on Robbie, and just laughing at him. I think he ate too much ice cream, and complained when you had warned him not to because you knew his reaction. Typical. Thank you for letting me babysit TJ. You knew I could, and you saw my love for him early on. Thank you for your trust and even joy in that.

I cannot begin to thank you enough for your friendship with Anna. I would say there hasn't been a friend like you in her life. One who understood her inside and out; who sharpened her and encouraged her the way you did. Anna always tells me stories of how you understood Robbie, and she understood Tyson in some situations. I know that was helpful for both of you in your marriages. It was a huge blessing to Anna in how you offered consistency in friendship; even after you moved to Chicago. When she became friends with you it was as if God breathed new life into her. Someone who understood her, "spoke her language", and spoke into her life in a God-breathed way. You met Anna where she was, and loved her in it. You understood the dark places that sometimes draw her down, and YOU were a vessel of hope for her; and still are. Thank you for loving my sister so well in some of her darkest times. You have made an imprint on her as a mom. I know you learned from Dana, who probably learned from your mom, but know that those valuable lessons have stuck with Anna. And now... Anna teaches others. Laura's pregnant Les! Isn't that crazy??? So your legacy in her life will continue on, and on, and on...

Thank you for loving my family. I know you loved every member, and well. Thank you for coming to Sarah's memorial service and walking the road of suffering with us. Your love in that time will never be forgotten. My parents miss you very much.

And now... I'm sure you know it's coming and I know it's with a smile on your face that it does... thank you for sharing Tyson and TJ with me. They both give me so much joy. As you visited me in my dream, with symbolic moments of sharing two pieces of chocolate, my heart was drawn to worship. "Katie- let's share them. You can have half and I'll have half." Not understanding the significance in the dream, when I woke up. After prayer and talks with Anna and Tyson, I realized you were giving me the "ok" to "share" Tyson and TJ. Thank you. It brings tears to my eyes again remembering that moment in my dream. You were so real. Happy yet somber.

You are home. Your joy has been made complete. You are whole. As I walk this broken road, as I go through life's unknowns, Tyson is an instrument of hope for me. He is to me, what you were and are to Anna. He gets me Leslie; and that is not without your mark. He is who he is because he was married to you. I will never let that go unacknowledged. I will always be thankful for the life he had with you, because that is the only Tyson I know and will ever know. YOUR Tyson. The Tyson that God put you with for 8 years. Thank you. Thank you for saying yes to him when he asked for your hand in marriage. I wouldn't have the joy in his friendship I have now, if not for you. Thank you for sharing your son with me. Thank you for sitting alongside Jesus as He has intricately worked love in their hearts for me and in mine for them. Thank you for making them who they are. Thank you for helping shape Tyson as the man of God he is. Thank you for leaving your mark on TJ; for raising him the way you did; for loving him the way you did; for making him one of the sweetest boys in the entire world.

Thank you for being you. Thank you for walking in freedom in Christ. Thank you for living boldly in the face of cancer. Thank you for loving me while you were here, and thank you for participating in the orchestration of my relationship with the family that you left.

I treasure you. I will never forget you. You will live in in my heart, and my family's heart, always. Happy Birthday. I am so glad you were born.

With all the love and thankfulness and humility in my heart,

Katie

Join the Party

Wow. Thanks everyone. THAT was amazing. I talked to several of Leslie's family and friends, and we have been extremely blessed and encouraged with the outpouring of love and compassion this week. Many tears, many laughs... Shared with SO many people. Thanks for the stories, old friends, and thanks for your compassion, new friends and "strangers". I am truly humbled... I had not expected that kind of response. Thank you all.

Several of those great stories were shared by a group of ladies that had a special place in Leslie's heart. A group of friends from her high school days-- the ones talking about her convertible (DA BUCH) and all other kinds of craziness that might just be news to Leslie's parents... (the convertible ending up in a cornfield one night comes to mind... I believe when Leslie told me that story, she specifically noted that Dad never knew about it.) Anyway, this group of girls came up to me 8 months ago at one of Leslie's memorial services and made a commitment-- they would get together every year to remember "the good ol' days"... to remember Leslie, to love on each other, to share laughter and tears. And they determined that the annual event which would be the venue for this get-together would be the Washington, IL Relay for Life. (American Cancer Society)

Now, while I'm all about charitable giving, I'm admittedly not one who gets into "fund-raising". I can't remember EVER pushing a cause before... Well... This might be the only cause I'll ever pitch, and fittingly so.

DeLene, Julie, Elisa, Sarah, and the gang (if I didn't mention your name, girls, that's my shout out to JOIN THE TEAM or DONATE!! And yes, I KNOW who you are!)-- along with Leslie's family and a couple of our friends-- have started a Relay for Life team in Leslie's honor. You can support our cause by clicking on the following link and clicking on the DONATE button:

http://main.acsevents.org/site/TR/RelayForLife/RFLFY09IL?team_id=449254&pg=team&fr_id=15076

One of the really cool things about ACS and Relay for Life (in my mind... I tend to pay close attention to this kind of thing) is the fact that 75% of donations go directly to fund cancer treatment and research programs. Only the remaining 25% goes to the infrastructure and adminsitrative costs to support ACS (so they can continue pushing 75% of everything they get into their actual cause). That's a great ratio for such a large organization. (One to which our government and churches should espouse, if you ask me.)

Anyway, if your heart feels so led, consider joining the Walking Warriors and donate, will you? In honor of Leslie. In honor of your loved one who has battled. It's just another great way to join this little party we started last week. (In case you're wondering, over 1500 unique visitors have partied with us in the past week, viewed the blog, left comments, etc... Representing 44 states and 21 countries worldwide.)

Thanks again for joining us in celebrating Leslie. And for considering donating-- a "birthday gift" of sorts.

Birthday eCard

A little less than 24 hours until what would have been Leslie's 33rd birthday. I would have given her a hard time about being TWO YEARS older than me, as I always did on that day, and that nonsense would continue for the next couple of weeks or so until I could no loner claim such a thing. It's been on my mind, to be sure. But every "first" that passes becomes more manageable, as God continues to heal and unveil the blessings of the new life he's set before us. Peace abounds rather than emotional burden. Happy memories and smiles fill the quiet spaces of the day rather than tears and questions. (More on the smiles and memories in a minute...) But to be sure, this "birthday week" has been on our minds.

Not sure how or why, exactly-- I don't think anyone said anything to him-- but TJ asked me tonight, "Dad, when is my mom's next birthday going to be?" I stopped in my tracks. We were just putting away the drumset to clear the floor for our baseball game, and it was just spontaneous and rather matter-of-fact. I asked him if Mimi had mentioned something to him about Mommy's birthday. (My mom has been in town helping out since mid-last week, with Miss Liz on Spring Break, TJ being sick-- ear infection now that he's kicked the puke virus, and things pretty crazy for me at work.) He assured me that no one had told him about his Mom's birthday, and just seemed rather surprised and curious at my response. It just seemed to him like a normal question to ask me, after all.

I sat down on the basement stairs and had him sit on my lap. I told him that Mommy's birthday was in 2 days-- on Wednesday. "Oh, I think they're going to have a GREAT BIG party for her in HEAVEN!" He said. I agreed, and told him it would be an extra special one because it was her first birthday in Heaven. He got all excited and asked rhetorically if we could go to the party. I said, "TJ, you know that we can't go to Heaven until Jesus is ready to come get us, and it might be a very long time. We probably won't go this week. But when we do go, we'll have LOTS of birthday parties for Mommy to get caught up on all the ones we missed while she was there without us." He smiled and did an excited little dance, quite pleased with this explanation. Then, we began to plan our own little birthday party for Mommy, just TJ and me. We're going to Red Lobster. (It's been his favorite special treat lately-- yes, the kid LOVES lobster... I know... I'm creating some sort of monster... It will be his second trip there in a week. He suckered Mimi into taking him once when I was away on business last week.) We're going to eat lobster and we'll have them bring a birthday cake and sing happy birthday to Mommy with us. (Seriously, they'd be cold-hearted or just plain dumb not to, at such a request, right? I mean, the kid can be VERY persuasive!) I assured him that Mommy would be able to see our little party and it would make her very happy that we're having birthday cake with her, while she's having her party in Heaven.

So, that's how TJ and I are celebrating Leslie's 33rd birthday. Now, here's your opportunity to join the fun. I'm inviting every reader of this blog to post a comment. I seldom give a shout-out for comments. But I'd like to just honor Leslie in this way. Some of you have never met Leslie. But she means something to you... You know her story, you are living her legacy. Tell her (by clicking on "comments" below) what she means to you. Those of you that knew her, share a memory. Tell a story, or share something about her that you truly appreciate. I believe she can read-- or feel, or somehow know-- these comments as you share... carried up on the wings of angels, perhaps... like some sort of Heaven-bound birthday card or e-greeting or something.

Let me start by sharing a brief memory... Of when I first met Leslie...

She was a Psychology major at good ol' Taylor U. in Indiana. I was a Psych. minor, so we had a few classes together. She'd "caught my eye" as they say, and I got up the courage to ask her on a "study date" before a mid-term one semester. To say we hit it off would be... well... an outright lie. Oil and water. No chemistry. I thought she had a chip on her shoulder and was hard to get to know. She thought I was a cocky punk with an attitude problem. (She was probably not far off.) That was that. I'm not sure if we ever spoke again...

...Until a couple of years later, after we both graduated and happened to both move to Indianapolis... Where we bumped into each other at a party... And were married about 18 months later. My, how a little "coming-of-age" can change one's perspective! Or two people's perspective.

So... What's your "Leslie story"? Join with me in celebrating Leslie on her birthday.

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PS. Just found out this morning that my book proposal for Leslie's Journey is being presented to publishers in the coming week(s). If you think of it, I could truly use some prayer, that God would open and shut doors and make His desires known as to which direction we should go with this. Let the adventure begin! Or continue, I guess...

Having a TJ Day

I've talked in the past about TJ and I occasionally having a "Mommy day". Well, for me, today's a TJ day. Dana called me at the office a couple of hours after I dropped him off this morning. He was throwing up. I wasn't really that surprised. He wasn't himself last night--not lethargic, but rather restless and edgy, actually-- and looked a bit pasty, but denied feeling sick when I asked. Maybe he was just trying to convince himself...
So I'm back at home with him now. We just finished watching the Jungle Book (his favorite movie these days, although I believe this is the first time he's had the patience to watch the whole thing start-to-finish in one sitting). He really only watches TV when he's sick or very tired. (Or, as I've mentioned before, it's The Wiggles or a sporting event-- but that's not as much "watching" TV as it "doing" TV. He does all the Wiggles' dances and can't watch a sport without simultaneously playing it.)

Anyway, The Jungle Book is over now, and he's held down about 3 ounces of Sprite and a cup of jello. So far so good. He's fast asleep on the make-shift bed I've made him on the floor of our newly refurbished bathroom on the main floor, where I can keep an eye on him as I fiddle with work stuff in the living room. Bathroom floor beds are a special treat when he's sick. He loves "camping out" on the floor for naps, and he's so good at puking into the toilet all by himself, so it's a pretty good arrangement for everybody. I make sure I'm there when I hear that tell-tale whimper which forecasts another bout... I sympathetically cheer him on and rub his back and tell him how brave he is. But he does it all by himself. Wakes up from his nap, lifts the lid, does his duty, and rinses out his mouth with Sprite afterward. (He knows not to swallow until his tummy settles back down a little.)

The day is rather fitting of these past weeks, really. My mind and heart have been so completely full of him, and we've had a lot more "down-time" to spend together as well. I mean, he's bringing me so much joy. I'm learning so much from him. He's been so happy. I've mentioned to various people lately that he really seems to have turned a corner from those "terrible threes" I blogged about a month or so back. He's hardly had any "melt-downs", and when he does start to "go there", it's only a small inkling of the magnitude of the events they used to be. He has been obedient, kind, playing well with others, and extremely lovey... Cuddly, kissy, verbally expressive... "I love you, Daddy!" Spontaneous proclamations of his passionate adoration. I feel like I could just burst with all the love that it builds inside me. The most amazing attribute of his that's really starting to blossom is his inquisitiveness. The kid doesn't miss a THING. And he has this insatiable desire to KNOW the ins-and-outs of everything his mind stumbles across. The lady sitting two tables over from us at Panera on Monday night couldn't hide her amusement with the discussion, even though she tried-- she looked almost apologetic when I caught her chuckling at us, as she was trying hard not to eaves drop on our conversation.

"Daddy, can I please have a great-big piece of your bread?" (He's got me well trained not to be stingy with my sharing of the sourdough baggette that comes with my meal.)

"Sure, buddy. Here, you can dip it in this." I handed him a generous chunk of my baguette and a little cup of salad dressing that I had served on the side.
"Is that salad dressing yummy on my bread?" He asked, tempted to try something new.

"Yes, it's very yummy, see?" I dipped a piece of my bread and ate it, with a dramatic, "Mmmmmmm!!"

"Mmm! It is good!" He tried it himself. "Why is it so yummy on my bread if it's for your salad?" He asked.

"Well, it's kind of like how you like to dip your carrots in ranch dressing. It's just made up of good stuff like olive oil and garlic and..."

"Daddy?" He interrupted, apparently satisfied with the answer to his previous inquisition.

"Yes, TJ?"

"Why do other people like to eat at Panera like us?" He was observing the growing line at the counter.

"Well, they have really good food, here, TJ. And it's healthy food, too."

"You mean like your salad and my grilled cheese?"

"That's right, buddy. Our food is yummy and healthy too."

"Why is it healthy?"

"Well, it's made up of healthy things, like veggetables and good chicken, and good fresh bread."

"Why are those things healthy?" He truly wanted to know, and wasn't asking to be difficult... even though I confess, at times my patience wears thin.

"Because they're good for you." Indeed, my patience was wearing thin, in this case, as amused as I was.

"Why are they good for you?"

"Because they're healthy."

"Why are they healthy, though?!"

"Because they're good for you!" (This is a little trick I employ whenever I've had enough of a particular topic.) Just before he got frustrated enough to call me onto the carpet for the mean little trick I was playing, we heard the chuckle from the quiet lady two seats over.

"Daddy, why is that lady laughing at us?"

"Because she thinks you're funny, TJ." I answered, as I gave an understanding smile to the lady.

"But why does she think I'm funny?"

And the conversation goes on...

...and on...
...and on...

...All day, every day. And you know what? I love every minute of it... Even when my patience grows thin, I'm just constantly overwhelmed with amazement, compassion, and thankfulness for this little person. I am so thankful for how God is providing for his needs-- comforting his little heart; giving him safe "places" to find security and nurturing that his Mommy no longer is able to provide in person; allowing our relationship to just grow in trust, companionship, laughter, and love. Still, it is hard for me not to just worry-- or even hurt for him sometimes.

I was just watching him eat his dinner last night. (Special treat-- Chuck E. Cheese!) (As an aside, it was actually an impromptu decision... an excuse to get out of traffic in Naperville on the drive home-- with all the flooding we've had, the Wheaton-to-Bolingbrook evening commute has been horrible. Just as I started to feel the road rage creep in, I saw a smiling Chuck E. waving at me from a marquee just ahead. I baled. Traded in my frustration for a headache. TJ was quite pleased with the decision, at least.) But he was just so happy, as I watched him there eating his pizza and broccoli. (I know, the sign on the salad bar says "NO SHARING"... So sue me. Or start offering some decent greens on the kids menu!) Anyway, TJ was just watching all the flashing lights and action, looking out for Chuck E. so he could give him "five" again. As "into" everything as he is-- never sitting still, always figuring something out or imagining or experiencing something to its fullest-- he just seems so content. As I said, I thank God for this. And I thank all those who have risen to the occasion to help meet his needs, by the grace of God, as I will be the first to confess I cannot do it on my own. But sometimes I just fight this deep sadness. Not for me-- that I've lost Leslie, or the fact that I can't "do this alone"-- but for our son. It's like little man has no idea how big of a deal this has all really been. It's like he'll never really know just what he's missing. It's like he's somehow okay with the fact that Mommy's in Heaven, and we can't just go see her whenever we want. We do talk about her every day. But it's as if she's just "away". This morning he asked if he could just go to Heaven for a little bit, so he can just talk to her just for a minute, as if he was trying to get me to cut him a deal, similarly to a "just one more book" request at bed-time. I told him he can pray and tell God everything that he wants to tell his mom, and she will be so happy to hear it all from God. And I told him how proud of him Mommy is, watching from Heaven. And it's weird... That all seems to be okay with him. He just goes on loving me, laughing, playing, dancing, drumming, asking questions, watching the world unfold before him.

Witnessing all of this just reminds me-- even amidst my own bouts with sorrow or worry for him-- that indeed, Jehovah Jireh, our God provides. TJ is the one thing I protect and hold onto with all that I am, all that I've got, above all other things-- far above even my own life. And even TJ is something I am learning to lay down at the foot of the Throne-- to give up into the more competent hands of our Father-- in humble acceptance of God's will and provision. Certainly, God is using me to provide for His child, TJ... pouring into me (or right through me) far more love and wisdom and "parental guidance" than I ever thought myself able to contain. But even then, the stuff that comes out of me is not enough. I just fall short. And when I have run dry and empty, God continues to hold TJ in His hand-- providing all the more perfectly in my weakness. And He doesn't stop there... God is loving and healing me through TJ. God has given me TJ to provide for me, as well. It has been truly miraculous to see Him work in this dynamic these days.

So that's been welling up in my heart for the last couple of weeks. Feels good to broadcast it to the world. Tears of pride and joy are welling up in my eyes as I watch him sleep on his make-shift bed on the bathroom floor. Such a big boy. A warrior, like his mommy. A true joy and a blessing. Thank you God, for my TJ.

(whew... I'll call it a day, I think. While I dry myself off a little... here are some candid photos I've shot this past week or so, with the camera phone...)

TJ waiting for his food at Panera.

Seconds later, waiting for his food at Panera.

Doing the high-flying balloon-bike thing at Chuck E. Cheese's.