I didn't know Gracie. I knew her mother, Mrs Rice, and she's a very nice lady who lives in South Bend, Indiana. Mrs Rice and her husband raised eight children in a very small house in South Bend; and even though they dealt with a lot of adversity in life, they never wavered in their faith and their service to God and their dedication to raising their children the right way.
It's kind of funny - the kind of funny that makes you stop and think seriously about how things work in the world - how three of Mrs Rice's daughters came to be at this church in Seattle at the same time that Cheryl and I were there, and how we all got to be such good friends, and then how Cheryl and I moved away to the hinterlands of the midwest, only an hour or so away from South Bend; and how we were able to get to know Mrs Rice when we came down to visit her daughters when they happened to be visiting their mom. And we so thoroughly enjoyed visiting with this good Christian lady, as she opened her home to us and shared her family with us and told us stories of her children when they growing up (the more embarrassing, the better!) and let us be a part of that family.
Over the past thirteen years, we've gone down whenever we could; we've had our kids playing with her grandkids; we've had barbecues together; we've gone to church together; we've been there for some very good times, and we've been there for some not-so-good times. We've laughed and prayed and sang and cried with her.
This past weekend, we were down there again. For a funeral. The funeral of Mrs Rice's youngest daughter, Grace, who was born the same year as Cheryl, but had quite a different life. Because Gracie had a lot of challenges. Mental, emotional, physical - she had them all. Even more so, though, her parents had challenges; Grace wasn't the only child with hardships, and Mr and Mrs Rice were of the belief that one took care of one's family, regardless of the circumstance. They were - and Mrs Rice still is - the kind of people who rise to the challenges they are given, and overcome them through their commitment to Christ.
I admire Mrs Rice for her strong desire to do what is right, and her ability to keep going no matter what happens, no matter how weary it makes her. Many a time we've been at her house, enjoying her company (and her stories), and after a really fine dinner, we'll sit in her living room and start chatting, and she'll lean back in her chair and nod off for a few minutes. And we're so happy that she's so comfortable with us that it does't matter; we're just like family, no big deal. And then she'll wake up and start telling stories again. And we really don't want to leave.
She's an amazing person, and from all accounts, Gracie was an amazing person, too. Stubborn, like her mother. Cantankerous, willful, emotional - but she loved Jesus. Even with all her limitations, she knew her Lord and Savior - because Mr and Mrs Rice made sure she did. They taught her about God from her youth, and when it got to the point where she couldn't live at home anymore, they found her a place where that education continued. And when the time came that Gracie's body was done with this earth, all those people who had been a part of Gracie's life, her education, her fellowship, her spiritual family, they all gathered together and talked and sang and prayed and celebrated the soul that was now in the loving hands of her Father.
We felt privileged to share in this time with this wonderful group of people. It was good to get together with our friends, the ones who still live so far away on the west coast, but it was even better share in the love and grief and comfort and sorrow and rejoicing of this extended family of believers, reminding one another that ours is a short time on this earth, and we have so much to look forward to when it's over.
* *
Sunday afternoon was spent in the company of my old Writer's Group as we celebrated the (self-)publication of a long-awaited Fantasy Book by my good friend, "S G Devries" (Steve). It's his first novel, and it's one that we as a Writer's Group thoroughly enjoyed reviewing over the past five or six years. He did ten drafts of the thing! I think the last version I read was nearly three years ago. But it was always hilarious. It got to the point back when we were meeting that we would beg him to bring new chapters because his writing style is so hilarious. So don't even attempt to read any of it unless you are prepared to laugh your head off.
I didn't realize until about six months ago, when Steve and I got together to see a movie (because we both like movies) that he is also a craftsman. In fact, his first actual published book was an incredible How-To book on Building a Working BullDozer (toy-size, of course!) with real wooden caterpillar treads and a working shovel. Totally blew me away. And made me realize what a lazy bum I have become. And what a renaissance man he is!
Then there's Suzie Finkbeiner, a local Christian novelist (and the founder of our little Writer's Group) who is putting out yet another book this week. She actually has a series of books about the Dust Bowl which you should not read unless you like to get deeply involved in the faith struggles of people who are dealing with Life. She is an incredible writer, working on your emotions kind of like the way Max Lucado does, only the characters are the type of people you come into contact with every day, in ordinary life situations, each with their own history and baggage and issues.
I haven't had time to write anything now for a couple years -- I mean, anything more than occasional updates on this blog. Some days it feels like I never will finish any of the seventy-odd stories I have lying around on hard drives around the house. Just not enough time. Writers have to be solitary in order to succeed. I can't stand being away from people for very long. I get too lonely.
I'm going to drive Cheryl crazy when the kids are all finally out of the house.
It's kind of funny - the kind of funny that makes you stop and think seriously about how things work in the world - how three of Mrs Rice's daughters came to be at this church in Seattle at the same time that Cheryl and I were there, and how we all got to be such good friends, and then how Cheryl and I moved away to the hinterlands of the midwest, only an hour or so away from South Bend; and how we were able to get to know Mrs Rice when we came down to visit her daughters when they happened to be visiting their mom. And we so thoroughly enjoyed visiting with this good Christian lady, as she opened her home to us and shared her family with us and told us stories of her children when they growing up (the more embarrassing, the better!) and let us be a part of that family.
Over the past thirteen years, we've gone down whenever we could; we've had our kids playing with her grandkids; we've had barbecues together; we've gone to church together; we've been there for some very good times, and we've been there for some not-so-good times. We've laughed and prayed and sang and cried with her.
This past weekend, we were down there again. For a funeral. The funeral of Mrs Rice's youngest daughter, Grace, who was born the same year as Cheryl, but had quite a different life. Because Gracie had a lot of challenges. Mental, emotional, physical - she had them all. Even more so, though, her parents had challenges; Grace wasn't the only child with hardships, and Mr and Mrs Rice were of the belief that one took care of one's family, regardless of the circumstance. They were - and Mrs Rice still is - the kind of people who rise to the challenges they are given, and overcome them through their commitment to Christ.
I admire Mrs Rice for her strong desire to do what is right, and her ability to keep going no matter what happens, no matter how weary it makes her. Many a time we've been at her house, enjoying her company (and her stories), and after a really fine dinner, we'll sit in her living room and start chatting, and she'll lean back in her chair and nod off for a few minutes. And we're so happy that she's so comfortable with us that it does't matter; we're just like family, no big deal. And then she'll wake up and start telling stories again. And we really don't want to leave.
She's an amazing person, and from all accounts, Gracie was an amazing person, too. Stubborn, like her mother. Cantankerous, willful, emotional - but she loved Jesus. Even with all her limitations, she knew her Lord and Savior - because Mr and Mrs Rice made sure she did. They taught her about God from her youth, and when it got to the point where she couldn't live at home anymore, they found her a place where that education continued. And when the time came that Gracie's body was done with this earth, all those people who had been a part of Gracie's life, her education, her fellowship, her spiritual family, they all gathered together and talked and sang and prayed and celebrated the soul that was now in the loving hands of her Father.
We felt privileged to share in this time with this wonderful group of people. It was good to get together with our friends, the ones who still live so far away on the west coast, but it was even better share in the love and grief and comfort and sorrow and rejoicing of this extended family of believers, reminding one another that ours is a short time on this earth, and we have so much to look forward to when it's over.
* *
Sunday afternoon was spent in the company of my old Writer's Group as we celebrated the (self-)publication of a long-awaited Fantasy Book by my good friend, "S G Devries" (Steve). It's his first novel, and it's one that we as a Writer's Group thoroughly enjoyed reviewing over the past five or six years. He did ten drafts of the thing! I think the last version I read was nearly three years ago. But it was always hilarious. It got to the point back when we were meeting that we would beg him to bring new chapters because his writing style is so hilarious. So don't even attempt to read any of it unless you are prepared to laugh your head off.
I didn't realize until about six months ago, when Steve and I got together to see a movie (because we both like movies) that he is also a craftsman. In fact, his first actual published book was an incredible How-To book on Building a Working BullDozer (toy-size, of course!) with real wooden caterpillar treads and a working shovel. Totally blew me away. And made me realize what a lazy bum I have become. And what a renaissance man he is!
Then there's Suzie Finkbeiner, a local Christian novelist (and the founder of our little Writer's Group) who is putting out yet another book this week. She actually has a series of books about the Dust Bowl which you should not read unless you like to get deeply involved in the faith struggles of people who are dealing with Life. She is an incredible writer, working on your emotions kind of like the way Max Lucado does, only the characters are the type of people you come into contact with every day, in ordinary life situations, each with their own history and baggage and issues.
I haven't had time to write anything now for a couple years -- I mean, anything more than occasional updates on this blog. Some days it feels like I never will finish any of the seventy-odd stories I have lying around on hard drives around the house. Just not enough time. Writers have to be solitary in order to succeed. I can't stand being away from people for very long. I get too lonely.
I'm going to drive Cheryl crazy when the kids are all finally out of the house.
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