We are so rich in brotherly love! {A brother is born for adversity?} Oh Yes!

We are so grateful to be born into a loving and large family. We know what it means to be loved through adversity and conflict. When a heart attack comes, we are tackled and embraced and hit and comforted and uplifted and pressed down by brotherly and sisterly love. The voices that call are familiar and the angry tones are all against the same foe...sickness. It seems that God could use all that love to dispell sickness altogether. I am sure He will, oneday. But, not in the family, in the Savior. As strong and as contemptible as sickness is it is only vanquished in Christ and not in brotherly love. We bask and sometimes are sunburned by the love of many brothers and sisters. There is nothing like it. I always duck when they come. I always duck and am still tackled by it. We are aware of the love and we feel it profusely, even when we duck from it. It is born from the same parents and it is palpable. We have birthed that kind of love in our home and are nurturing it and trying to teach them to harness and use it for the glory of God and not just consume it upon their own lusts. It is our dearest treasure, next to Heaven itself. It is only when we have to ride the bucking bronco of brotherly adversity, during election time and sickness, that we lament some of the elements of brotherly lovingness, or the magnitude of the lovingness that we are connected to. It is a gift, anyhow. We are blessed to have it. God bless the arguments and the conflicts that they may be used by God to defeat all conflict and sickness and death, in the "ONE DAY!" Today, just help us live to tell about it. "Don't let us be smothered under the leaves of the day."

UGGGGHMMMMPHS! We may never learn!

Today was my delightful Senior Enoch's first attempt at the SAT's. There is always drama at our house when somebody has something to do. Especially on Saturdays. We are a big family and the things that only children families take for granted are huge hurdles for us. Class trips, homework, etc and now SAT completion.

Last year there were some hurdles, but this year we thought we had this under the belt. En said, Ma, I got this. I believed him. Every couple of days, I checked in, "Do you have a photo ID?" I am sure that I asked this of him, several times. Each time, he smiled maturely and showed me the photo that he printed out from the computer with the application. In the new cyber world this meant to me that they were checking the identity at the time of application and that there would be no further discussion. Still, I remember how very many times we didn't have our photo id's for this or that other important situation. This wouldn't be one of those times, I am sure. Still we woke up this morning 5 something, the menfolk pried me out of my bed for this. I was not up to it. I thought SAT completion was part of the father's job description, I murmered as I got out of my freezing cold part of the bed. I shook the icicles off my eyelids and started to reminisce of the preparation I started when my children were born for the SAT's. Ben said shut up, Jayne, not quite that concisely, but that is what he meant. Don't go there now. All my dreams were dashed at the break downs. Now, the father would care about those things and he has gotten us through two sets of SAT's flawlessly. I didn't recognize those personalities, though. This guy was me and dad. Ben doesn't know what that means. It means we know what we know, but we don't know what we don't know. We would find this out ere'long. We got coffee and some McDonald's Breakfast for the testtaker. We didn't lament the lack of prep work much, because he had had his own break to deal with. We would let him take the first SAT cold and then see what we have to do to get him to average score. We had been to the test site for Em 4 years ago, so that was not an issue. Reminiscing the high stress moments of my life, were somewhat tolerated, if not accepted. I said, this is what I do... We took a walk around the campus and met a couple of people, left him at the door and went home. We argued all the way home, as parents do. You should have said this. You should have done that. We pecked eachother to bits. We walked in the house ready to start our day, after our catharsis. The family was waiting to tell us that En was waiting for us. He had no picture id with him. Who knew? Back to the drawing board:)

Bought With a Price on "HallelluiaWiin"

It was a beautiful full moon outside this morning. Awesome Glory of God shining in the sky on this remembrance day of all who have gone before us. We remember the dear and the darling who have gone on,as well as those whose memories are not so dear. Many days of the year my memories of the forfathers and mothers are intense, but I am grateful for a day that brings all of the memories into focus. Learning the lessons of the past and growing in the light of the lessons learned. We had the intensity of a week in CCU to cement this years memories into our hearts and minds. This October would have been Rev. Charles Walker's 100th birthday and we felt and discussed his memory in the hospital with spiritual benefit. Lessons learned this "heart attack" providence were numerable. We needn't fear the past and the souls that have taught us and brought us. I use many of the cliche's that are in my repertoir to sew the seeds of truth into the souls of my children. I love the stories that I received. I love the memories of my elders and I love how they come out in interaction in my busy and bustling household. I love this video that Carman put out years and years ago. It is one of Ethan's favorite. We needn't compete with the devil on Halloween or any other day. God is greater and has far more for those who are His own than any demon or witch could show. I love how Carman shows that the salvation of Christ is of more value than any curses a witch can pull up.

I didn't see the pictures of the tree fallen, but I can just imagine.

I am not unsympathetic to the horrible devastation that happened in the NY Metro area, but the tree in front of Grandma's house is saddening to me, inspite of other things that have happened. I guess, I wanted Stoney to grow up with the same tree that I grew up with. It reminds me of Aunt Gloria who came to Dad's wake with a story of the past that carried me back through time and helped me to see the loss in the light of eternity. She didn't cry at the look on his face and neither did uncle, she remembered. Right in front of me she went back to before he was born. She said, he looks like his great and large father. Look what a big man he became? She said when I met his father, I was a little girl and I used to swing from his arms like you swing from a tree. He was huge and fun to play with. I knew the big man who swung us around like that and I was able to rejoice in the memory that God allowed my father to get as big, or bigger than his father and just like a tree to swing us all from his arms. I thought that tree would shade Stoney "boy" and give him the sense of the past that I can't get to him to tell. I thought that it would tell him the stories of the arguments and fights we fought underneath it and the hopes for great and wonderful welcoming that we expected when we saw it on the way to Grandma Delapena's house. He is in the house and I guess he doesn't need me to tell him of the welcome in the house. My big boy is well on the way to becoming the tree that his grandpa and great grandpa was and it makes me think of the pipsqueaks who are coming up behind us. I am glad that no one was hurt at the loss of the tree, but I like to imagine that Aunt Glo told God to loosen that tree to help us appreciate and reminisce of the significance in these days when we have little ones to tell the stories to.

CCU was such great care.

It was like halftime in the huddle. We had a Pastor come and give Ben a peptalk. You are not down, You are going to get up and do better than ever... The Body of Christ working together to enable each part to work fitly in their assigned positions. Man of God, this is a blip on the screen of life and eternity. This heart attack is designed by God for your good. With offense like that the quarterback can run for the touchdown, with confidence that he's on the right team. We are more than conquerors, even in trouble, through Christ. Thank God.

UUUUUUGGGGGGH! The Hospital is taking good care of my sweetie pie.

Aunt Gwen captured the difficulty of recuperating in the hospital!

My Baby Girl is 17

Oh what memories a birthday invokes. A baby girl, a delightful little girl and now a woman at 17, is my Evelyn. The tiny baby that never cried, until teething time has now come into a full bloom woman. I would sit her on my shoulder and do things around and about, now she puts me on her shoulder, so to speak. I was so scared she would choke on something or other, throughout the infancy. We came home from the hospital with a tiny ladybug on her shirt. I argued, no choking hazzards on my baby! She still totes her ladylike persona. She's come from Hello Kitty to nail polish and tassles. I am so grateful to God for 17 years of knowing her. The loss of Abby was so deep that I felt that the birth would never be over. We went on and on, loss after loss, blessing after blessing. God alone is worthy of praise in suffering and in delight. Sometimes, he dots our lives with both suffering and delight, simultaneously. He is the author of our life stories. He has given us much to praise Him for.

100 Years of Charles Walker's Family Legacy

100 years ago today was the birth of my father-in-law. He's gone on to glory and I remember the day with fondness. His son, was my treasure, so it behoved me to get to know this, influential man in his life. In the beginning, I never dreamed that the son was the clone of the father. Years have proven that to be the case. The first introduction rings in my memory forever. The service was exciting and powerful, but my dear heart was sleeping during the sermon. This should have appalled me, but it was really cute to me, as conservative and devout as I was, there was something unique that this junior deacon could sleep in the cacaphony that was the church around him. Maybe, I fell in love, right then. Maybe, that brought the pesky maternal instinct out in me. The icing on the cake was that, after the service he would introduce me to his father. There were so many culturally unique portions of the service and I had no interpreter, in those days. I remember that I didn't understand much, except that I had heard from a dear one that the Holy Ghost was among those people and I believed his testimony. I knew that Christ was preached and that I was too ignorant to understand the language. My heart was in my throat as they called, the man who I had met as Benjamin, Deacon Benji for the offering. He walked with a little strut and couldn't keep his head straight for anything. I had the great desire to grab his head and straighten it for him, but even that carefreeness, only endeared his person to me more. He took me by the hand after the amen and brought me out to meet his father, in person. I nearly fainted. Did I have to meet him today? Maybe we could wait for another day. This was the man who changed my life immensely. Ben said, Jayne, I would like you to meet the Reverend Charles Walker. What a formal way to introduce me to your father? I was struck by the intensity of the formality. We shook hands, "God bless you heaven smile upon you!" I felt welcomed and accepted. Was spirituality supposed to include welcomed and accepted? An interesting irony to my preconceived notions of Baptists this was. They were definitely Baptists and I wasn't sure if Baptists could be saved, except that my, very respected friend had already assured me that these people were the saved kind of Baptists. I know that I loved the Reverend instantly, though it took me quite a while to learn to love his sleeping in Church son. My first real conversation with Pastor Walker was in the kitchen of the family home. We sat at the table and I don't know where everybody else was, there was always a commotion. Maybe, everybody was there and I was just enamored with the Reverend. It is very possible for a gullible and Jesus loving young lady to become totally engulfed by the discussion of religion with such a dignified and elder preacher. This was perhaps the only conversation that I talked in. He asked question after question about the Bible. He listened and said very little. Who wrote the book of Proverbs? Who wrote the book of Leviticus? I answered, definitively and he said very little and then he left me. I would find out that this would never happen to me again. I was the learner in the relationship and he would establish that after awhile. But, at first, it served his purpose to make me think that I knew something and that he wanted to know that I knew something. The lesson over this 30 something years of knowing the man of my heart is submission and the importance of the spiritual above the intellectual. I would never, ever learned that lesson any other way. It was a wrestling match through life. You are looking at that through the microscope of the intellectual, he beckoned, very little can really be discerned that way. If it doesn't please God, what matters intellect? True, dear Father-in-law. I certainly wouldn't have missed that wrestling match for the world. From the heart of the one who gave me my name and my identity, as a wife and daughter-in-law, I am sure that I never thanked him enough.

Nine years ago today,

Death nearly invaded our bodies, Ezra and I. I saw stars. He nearly didn't see the light of day. Thanks to some quick activity and thinking of the medical people, we are both here to celebrate nine years of rebirth. It was like a saga. Pitosin, blacking out and then waking up with warm blankets over my freezing body. Questions, where is the baby? Where am I? Why aren't they bringing him? They must be notifying next of kin? Was the answer my fertile mind came up with. I am next of kin. Notify me. Where is he? I had just been to 2 funerals in a row and the one that I averted was my own and my baby's. Oh my, here he is. What a bright boy, to have smiled upon the first entrance with us. He must have had some of the same questions in his mind. He recognized us in spite of the trauma, the drugs of gas going through the bloodstream and the hullaballoo of the nursery. I waited my whole life to meet you, I tell the squirt. Nine is not much of a squirt anymore. He wants so much and he is in personality, the most like Ben of the bunch. I ran out in the rain, this morning to get the cupcakes for the class. I gave him a birthday kiss. His list of wants is through the roof. "Will it be a presentless birthday this year?" Some years it has been. I don't think so, I reply. We are grateful to have another year to reminisce of the funerals that led up to the birth that was almost a complete catastrophe. The boy who is the wonderful rounding out of our quiver. Matching couplets. And one in heaven.

Thank Heaven!

The Peace of Euclid!

Everytime I celebrate my beloved sister's birthday, I remember the love that we have. This love was nurtured through many vehicles. The pain and the exultation of the drama that was the love of little sisters. We had everybody wishing for a sisterhood like ours. I can't believe that I was 4 years old when she was born. I thought of her as a tiny baby and I thought that I was a grown person. My favorite, violent memory{and there are many} was a day that I came to Grandma Ruth's house and I saw my sweet baby sister and bent over to catch her as I had done so many times before. She came running, she was 3 or 4 and I was 7 or 8. I felt like I was very much older than her. I squatted to catch my adoring and running sister, like they do in the movies. Her fist hit me in the chest and she had run from the top of Grams steps and she knocked me to the ground with a full heavy blow of her body. She didn't even stop to see if I lived through the ordeal. She ran and hid. If it weren't for the love of math,{in God's mercy} that gave us something else to think about, other than our continuous conflicts we would have killed eachother. I know, if I had found her, after that, I would have pounded her to bits. I didn't even remember, once I had finished my math homework. The things that distract us enough not to kill eachother can be manifold. I like to thank Euclid as an aid to beat our swords to plowshears. It was true in our house, for sure. We lived to be 46 and 50 and haven't killed eachother yet. In fact, we learned to love eachother, from a distance. :)