Shipoopi

Well, I have officially said yes, and ordered my dancing shoes . . . so I am committed to attempting to dance the "Shipoopi"!   A couple of weeks ago, some high school girls and their mom came to see me at school saying they needed to ask me something.  I figured they wanted me to play the piano for them to sing at some function, and was ready to say "Sure, how can I help?".   Instead, they asked if I would participate in the annual Fallon Swing Dance Team's fundraiser. . . Dancing With the Stars.  My initial response was, "That is a really fun thought, but you must be out of your minds!".  They gave me a few days to think it over.  What really sealed the deal was when the dance teacher called to tell me that my dance would be a Broadway musical number from "The Music Man", the "Shipoopi".  That is one of my all-time favorite musicals, the first one that I played the piano for (when I was in high school), and the last one that Sara and I did together here in Fallon while she was in high school.  I was told that they were looking for someone "age appropriate" for the part. . . they didn't want to get some "cute, young thing".  As I pondered that comment later in the evening, I told myself, "This is a good thing.  I think perhaps I can handle the dance expectations of the role of Ethel Tofflemeyer (for those of you that know the show), the pianola girl, who was definitely more comfortable on the piano bench than the dance floor.  :)   So, at the urging of  my family (the girls said, "Mom, you HAVE to do this!"), I said yes, and I have to admit that I am looking forward to learning the dance.  I am also praying that perhaps Jesus will come the night before the performance, so that I can have the fun of practicing, without the pressure and fear that I will turn out to be a total "dance blob" when I have to dance with people watching.  I feel like Sara would love that I am pushing myself to do this, so in a way, this is for her.  The picture below is Sara and her partner Steven, dancing the "Shipoopi" in the Fall of 2005.  (as Zaneetta, not Ethel Tofflemeyer)   :)

A Soft Heart

I don't know about you, but it is a constant struggle for me to make time to truly stop and let God speak to my heart. . . or maybe I should say, for me to stop and LISTEN to God speaking to my heart.  In the mornings I am distracted by a mindful of things that I need to get done, and in the evenings I can't seem to keep my eyes open (and my brain turned on!).  Sunday mornings in church I am a captive audience.  :)

I have been thinking lately, asking myself questions about how much heartache a heart can hold.  My heart aches in missing Sara, I ache for friends and loved ones who are going through difficult times, I ache for my precious kids at school. . . . . and the list goes on.  Often my answer (to myself) is to try to stop "feeling". . . put up barriers and defenses, keep on plowing forward, and just don't let anyone get too close.  Listening to Woody's message this morning I realized that doing that usually just hardens my heart. . . . toward others, and often toward what God is trying to do in my life.  This week I even found myself wondering. . . . How does God hold the heartache of the world?  We have a hard time "bearing one another's burdens" because we are often weighed down with our own.  We are told to "cast ALL our cares upon Him, for He cares for us".  HOW DOES HE DO THAT?  What an awesome thought that God is big enough to handle EVERYONE'S cares being cast upon him.  I can't really even wrap my brain around that one.  And. . . that is my problem.  I need to quit trying to wrap my brain around it, and just trust Him to hold my heart. 

Lord, thank you for bearing the heartache of the world.  Thank you for the HOPE we have in trusting You.
Please keep my heart soft in loving You and pouring out Your love to others. 

Favorite things

I feel a need to make a list tonight. . . . randomly . . . . . some of Sara's favorite things. . . .

the color red, fluffy pillows, warm blankets, stars, oreos & milk, headbands, manicures & pedicures, red nail polish, White Christmas, ice cream sandwiches, old Shirley Temple movies, Starbucks in a red Christmas cup, soft pretzels from the Fallon movie theater, cherry coke, The Sandlot, books, letters on lined paper, coloring books & crayons, rings, her red phone, fuzzy slippers, shopping, skittles, starbursts, big sunglasses, mascara, bubble gum, gerber daisies, scotchmallows from Sees, bowling, sweatshirts, the summer after her senior year in high school, little kids, her car - Sally, holidays, mashed potatoes, playing games, lotion on her feet, laughing, singing, dancing, gymnastics, water ballet, journals, Cake Boss, all musicals. . .

. . . .  just to name a few. . . .

Dancing

I got to thinking today about some of the things that Sara and I did to pass the time during her many chemo hospital stays.  Lots of the time she was asleep, or too sick to interact much.  But there were times before the chemo got started, or when we were just waiting for her levels to clear, that we considered ourselves pretty funny.  I was remembering particularly the time she tried to teach me to tap dance.  (random and crazy I know!)  I remember her calling directions from her bed, while I tried to carry out the footwork on the linoleum floor of her hospital room. . . .touch, shuffle, step, ball-change. . . . or something like that. . . . I NEVER did get it right.  We must have been watching "So You Think You Can Dance" or something. I can't imagine what else would have inspired such an activity!  We laughed loud and long.

Sara LOVED to dance.  She loved the dancing aspect of gymnastics that she got to do when we moved to Fallon.  She begged to take dance lessons, and when we told her we didn't have the money, she did yard work in exchange for a class at the dance studio here in Fallon.  Getting the role of Annie in the junior high musical production blossomed into an even greater love for dancing and singing and musical theater.  The next year we did Crazy For You, which involved. . . . . tap dancing.  She was as thrilled with the role of a dancer in that musical as she had been to have the role of Annie.  In high school, she played the youngest princess, December, in the production of Twelve Dancing Princesses.  What could be more fun than being a dancing princess???   Sara's next role was Gladys in The Pajama Game.  That brought us all great laughs as Mary, our director, tried to get Sara to be seductive in her tango.  Sara. . . seductive. . . ???   She kept apologizing and saying, "I'm sorry, I just can't stop laughing!".  One of Sara's favorite musicals was The Music Man.  In her senior year, she got to share the role of Zanita with her good friend Courtney.  It was fun to watch them, as both girls were equally happy whether they were playing the part of Zanita, or switching into the role of a dancer.  They just loved being there.  That same year, Sara also participated on the Fallon Swing Dance Team.  I have a picture of her with Sam, Heidi, and Kari, taken after the "end of the year" dance performance.  Sara's expression is pure joy. 

When Sara went to college at Corban, she was a little disappointed that they didn't have a definite musical theater program going.  One of her goals was to fan that flame and see if she could build some interest. She was so proud of herself during her junior year of college when she found the Pentacle Theater in Salem and pursued an audition for their spring production of Seussical the Musical. . . . all by herself.  So excited to get the part of a "bird girl", Sara spent January through March of 2009 going to class, studying, working, and then going to musical rehearsals every evening.  She loved every minute of it.  I don't even remember how many shows they did, but it was ALOT.  We all met up in Salem to go to one of her performances, and again. . . . to see her on stage. . . dancing and singing. . . . she radiated happiness.  She received a special email from her director (which is still on her computer), that said how much he appreciated her hard work, dedication, and constant cheerful, positive attitude.  It was during those months that she started having the pain and swelling in her leg.  We never realized how bad it was, because Sara just refused to let it stop her. She finished out that semester of college, came home to go to the orthopedic doctor, and was hit with the diagnosis of cancer.  Even then, she took it in stride, holding on the the surgeon's claim that he would make her a "bionic dancer".

I think I heard or read somewhere that Corban University is doing a production of Cinderella this year.  I believe that Sara is probably both thrilled. . . and a little irritated that it didn't happen while she was in school.  :)   Probably mostly thrilled.  Good memories.

Hope in the Lord

I am blessed.  I sat in church yesterday morning, and all that filled my thoughts was that this day last year was when I got the call from Kari (during church) that Sara had to be care-flighted to San Francisco, and that the doctor there in Salem had seen several more tumors in her lungs.  Then my husband started his sermon. He is starting a topical series for the new year. . . . . just guess what the topic is. . . . yep. . . HOPE.  It's kind of funny, almost like it could have been just he and I in church. . . he needed to preach it, and I needed to hear it.  (except that I know many others needed it as well, and I believe God uses His Word in a big way)

I have been in the pit lately, looking down more than looking up.  As hard as it is, for me it is a matter of looking up at who God is, what He has done, and what He has given. . . . even what He has promised to do. . . instead of looking down at where I am at the moment, or what I don't have.  It is hard.  I also realize that sometimes I want to be in the pit. (Now that is just crazy!)  But really, isn't that true, when I know that all I have to do is to look up?  No, it doesn't change my circumstances, but it certainly does change my perspective. 

Woody preached from Psalm 130.  It is a "Song of Ascent" (one of Israel's top 15 hits), about hope in the Lord's forgiving love.  It's great.  That is kind of funny too, because Saturday night as I was going to sleep I was thinking about love (in a foggy sort of way).  What does it mean that someone loves you?  What does it mean that God loves me?  Looking at Psalm 130 shows me that one great evidence of God's love is His forgiveness.  There is hope. 

When we got home from church there was a message on our phone machine from a dear lady (who had been at church) that recently lost her husband.  The message told us to be sure to read the day's passage in our devotional book (that I have mentioned before), "Jesus Calling", because it tied in so well with Woody's sermon.  Here is a brief excerpt. . .

"The weaker you are, the more gently I approach you.  Let your weakness be a door to My Presence.  Whenever you feel inadequate, remember that I am your Ever Present Help.  Hope in Me, and you will be protected from depression and self-pity.  Hope is like a golden cord connecting you to heaven. The more you cling to this cord, the more I bear the weight of your burdens, thus you are lightened.  Cling to hope, and My rays of Light will reach you through the darkness."

For me. . . yesterday afternoon I spent more time being so thankful for those last precious months we had with Sara.  They were a gift and a blessing.  There is hope.  God is just not done with us yet. 

Rabbit Trails

I seem to have a difficult time deciding exactly what I want this blog to be.  Then I realize that I seriously have a problem with over-thinking and over-analyzing everything.  I think there are times when I just need to let it be. Sometimes I write, and then read back over what I've written and delete the whole post.  I want to be honest and sincere in my writing, but I don't want to be discouraging or depressing (to others or myself), but sometimes that is just what needs to come out.  Most of all, I have a desire to sort out and organize my constantly swirling thoughts.  Trying to write, talk with people, and even pray, often feels unproductive because I feel like I keep going in circles.  I have some down time this  morning, and decided I want to try to lay out some thoughts, without caring if I end up taking a few rabbit trails. 

First of all, I have to tell you about an excellent book.  It is nothing deep, spiritual, or inspirational, but after reading the first three pages, I am in love with it. Heidi recommended it to me when we were at an amazing second-hand book store in Phoenix on Tuesday.  It is a children's book called "The Willoughbys" by Lois Lowry.  It is about four children who decide they want to become orphans.  I realize that sounds like an odd theme for a children's book, but it is hilarious. . . .totally random humor and fabulous vocabulary words like "expostulation", "irascible", "nefarious", and "obfuscate".  I would quote you a passage, but I'd have a hard time deciding which one to use. . . . and then I realize that many of you would not consider it as funny as Heidi and I do.

I think I understand why it is so hard to look forward to 2012.  So much of every day involves looking back.  We are constantly thinking and remembering "this time last year", or "this time two years ago", and then getting out pictures or remembering events from long before that.  Even though I am sincerely thankful that Sara no longer has the discomfort, limitations, pain, or fear of cancer. . . and that she is at peace and joyful in the presence of her Lord and Savior. . . . I still have a hard time accepting the fact that she is gone from our presence and that our lives have to continue here on earth without her.  Many, many others have experienced pain and loss like this, and I honestly don't think I am angry at God for taking Sara before what WE thought should be her time. . . . there is no reason our family should be exempt from that loss.  But in my spirit I still fight it. . . . I don't want to accept it. . . . I don't want to believe it. . . . I don't want it to be this way.  When my dad died, it was hard. . . . we all miss him.  But somehow it was easier to think about moving forward. . . . because moving forward seemed like moving toward where he was. . . having lived out his life, and then going on before us to heaven.  With Sara. . . I don't want to think about moving forward, because it just doesn't seem right to move on to a life without her.  It is unbelieveably hard, harder than I ever realized.

I'm praying for surrender and acceptance.  This is God's way, this is what He has for us, so I know in my head that fighting it, denying it, or refusing to accept it is beyond pointless.  I feel like the little kid that just turns her face away. . . . you know when kids refuse to look at you. . . like maybe that makes the whole situation go away.  I need to come to the place where I can just gaze at God's face, acknowledge His love, His sovereignty, His presence and character in whole, and allow Him to assure me that all will be well.   It is also a trust issue.  This life is so full of heartache.  I feel  like I am always waiting for the next blow to hit.  Trust, faith, hope, peace. . . .all tied together.

This morning I watched the video of Sara giving a speech at the Relay for Life event here in Fallon (June 2010).  She spoke of how two weeks after her diagnosis the doctor told Woody and I that she had a 25% chance of surviving more than two years.  (We didn't even tell  Sara that until that summer after all her treatments were done.) She then said that obviously God had other plans because there she stood, having completed her year of surgeries and chemo, and all was well.  In June of 2011 she was gone.  Sara ended her speech with her verse, Philippians 4:13.  "I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me." She said that God was with her and gave her strength to get through that year, and that she was confident that He would give her strength for whatever He had for her in the years to come. 

A year ago today Sara was in Oregon, getting ready for her final semester of college, starting to feel more weak and crummy, and developing a bad cough.  Woody and I were home, praying that the doctors were wrong and that God would do a miracle in Sara's body.  A year ago this weekend was when she went to the Salem hospital and they had to drain her lungs, and ultimately care-flight her back to San Francisco.  It was the beginning of the end.  Even then Sara constantly claimed that verse in Philippians.  In order to move forward, I have to keep facing those "this time last year"s, claiming that verse, and turning my face to the only One who can give that strength. 

2012

I've always loved the start of a new year. I love to clean things out, re-organize, and make lists of projects or things I want to get done.  This year feels very different.  I am having a hard time getting into any of those things, and if I let my thoughts go where they want to, I would rather just have time stand still for awhile.  It just seems wrong to think of time moving ahead without Sara here.  I suppose it is rather selfish to continue to feel that way, but there is the truth of it.

We were so very blessed to spend time with our children this past week.  Sam & Kimberly, Kari & Brett & little Wyatt, and Heidi & Brady are all joy to our hearts, and we are so thankful for them, and for the homes they have made together.  Our time with them was sweet.  I just wish I knew how to manage the pain of one missing.  I feel like that pain is always like an elephant in the room.  (Sara would be SO MAD if she thought I was calling her an elephant in the room, so I have to clarify - it is not Sara. . . but the sorrow of her not being there with us. . . we just miss her)  We don't want to dwell on that, but somehow we have to figure out how to acknowledge it, in a way we can all handle.  That is a challenge - guess it will be for awhile.  And time marches on, regardless, so 2012, here we come.