Snowstorm

We had the biggest snowstorm in 20 years hit over the weekend. The extremes in weather here are amazing. I remember the summer day the heat index scraped 120 degrees and I started sweating the second I stepped outside. I remember the day we had 10 inches of rain fall a few years back, when I thought our house might wash away. Or the summer night a thunderstorm barreled through the neighborhood very likely packing a small twister and dropped trees all around us, sending a branch through our bedroom window. And now we have a snowstorm that's a humdinger by Virginia standards. We had 8 inches of snow fall in a day, which counts for a blizzard here in Tidewater Virginia. Snow started falling early Saturday morning and continued for about 24 hours. The sun broke out sometime Sunday morning, so bright we had to shut the blinds to see the worship song words projected on the wall in our living room. (We're still meeting here for church Sunday mornings, but made an offer to lease a building so Lord willing we'll be moving on soon.) Today on my "lunch hour" we worked on building a sled run, as you can see from the photo. It wasn't exactly to Olympic standards, but it suited the kids just fine. The photo of Ezra shows how exhausting a day of building a sled run and taking runs down it on a piece of cardboard can be. But we made some memories today. We made a bunch of memories.

`Stay With Me'

We had known for a couple of weeks Julie was going to have another miscarriage. It was such a shock to hear again that the little life inside her had inexplicably died. Her body was still thinking she was pregnant, the doctor said, which was why she still felt nauseous and tired all the time. He couldn't explain what went wrong, why after so many healthy babies she had two miscarriages within the matter of months. We trust God's plans and purposes in all of it, even as we wonder if we'll be blessed to hold another little baby or if Olivia is the last wee one in our family. The doctor advised waiting for Julie's body to miscarriage naturally rather than going through a procedure that he said could complicate future pregnancies. We waited for two weeks before the bleeding began. By Monday afternoon, it was so heavy I found Julie lying on the bathroom floor, talking to the doctor on the phone. When she hung up she told me she felt as though she would faint whenever she stood up. She was pale and I asked if she needed anything and what the doctor said. He told her to wait a while to see how things progressed. They got worse.

By 7 o'clock I was helping her into our van to take her to the hospital in Williamsburg where the doctor would meet us. The hospital in Gloucester doesn't deliver babies so Julie's doctors are 45 minutes away. I had asked Ethan to remove Olivia's car seat, which is directly behind the driver's seat, so Julie could lie down. Ethan mistakenly took out the whole bench seat, so Julie laid down on the second bench back and I sped through Gloucester, praying the whole way. I asked Julie occasionally how she was doing and she always said fine. About five minutes from the hospital she said she wasn't doing well and that she was bleeding a lot and I heard her moan softly. I raced up to the emergency room entrance, parked and ran inside for a wheelchair. An older man and woman were inside the first set of doors and and I said I needed a wheelchair for my wife. He directed me to them and I grabbed one and wheeled it out to the van. When I opened the door Julie was on the floor and looked out of it; a short time later I would understand she was hemorrhaging and losing blood rapidly. By then the older man was right behind me. When he saw Julie he asked how he could help and then grabbed the wheelchair and got it closer to the van while I helped Julie into it.

I rushed inside to the nurse's station and said my wife needed help. Julie was slumped in the chair moaning softly and when I looked behind us I saw a trail of blood splattered on the floor. Beneath her blood was puddling on the floor. The guy in the nurse's station said he'd get someone. I wasn't shouting, but telling him forcefully my wife is having a miscarriage and bleeding heavily and I needed someone now. He said he would call someone. Julie was still moaning, her eyes closed. I moved in front of her and patted her cheek. "Stay with me, Julie," I said. "Stay with me." I'm not sure what I said next to the guy at the nurse's station, but I know was desperate. I remember at one point -- whether it was when I first arrived at the nurse's station or seconds later I can't quite recall -- looking to my right at a couple seated in the emergency room and they had this horrified look on their face. I'm pretty sure I demanded help. Again. The older man who helped us inside was pleading for help as well. "She's bleeding," he said. I felt so helpless. I remember talking to Julie, telling her it was OK and help was on its way. I kissed her forehead and felt it and her skin was cold and clammy. Finally the doors swung open and a nurse appeared. She looked at Julie and told me to follow her. We rushed down the hall, took a right past all these rooms and I kept thinking we didn't have time for all of this. We finally reached an empty room, a doctor and another nurse showed up and we lifted Julie onto the bed. Her clothes were soaked in blood and I remember at one point seeing blood smeared across the doctor's smock.

Praise God they got the bleeding slowed and stabilized her condition. I think we arrived at the hospital just after 8 o'clock. Sometime after that, when I knew she was going to be fine, I headed out to move the van, which I had left running outside the emergency room. I was disoriented and unsure at first which way to go outside her room. Then I looked at the floor. It was easy to find the van: I followed the trail of blood to the emergency room doors. By 9 o'clock Julie was headed to surgery. Around 9:45 her doctor met me in the waiting area and said the surgery had gone well, but she would spend the night. It wasn't until around 11:15 that I night that I saw her in her room, where I was waiting while she was brought up from surgery. She looked much better and actually had some color in her lips. We talked for a little while and I made plans to pick her up in the morning. I told her I loved her and drove home. The next morning on our way back to Gloucester, Julie told me she remembered a few things about the night before. She said she remembered feeling horrible and she remembers me patting her cheek and talking to her. She could hear me, but she couldn't respond. "I wanted to," she said, "but I couldn't."

Christmas 2009

Here's a portion of our Christmas letter from 2009. We sent the photo above with the letter. It's a wee bit past Christmas, but it's the thought that counts, right?

Merry Christmas! The remembrance of the birth of Jesus Christ is such an excellent time of year. We're back in Gloucester, Va., at the tail end of an extraordinary journey that took us to Oregon and back. We lived in Corvallis for about nine months -- leaving in September 2008 and returning in June -- while I attended Cornerstone School of Ministry, with the idea of becoming better equipped for whatever the Lord has for me. Little did I know that would involve planting a Calvary Chapel here in Gloucester on Sept. 6. God has been so faithful and good to our family, through many good times and trials alike. The verse from the year is from Hosea 12:6: "Observe mercy and justice and wait on your God continually." The word `continually' in Hebrew means `to stretch' and the word `wait' means to `bind together, perhaps by twisting.' The picture I have of our lives is like tying a shoelace and how you pull the loops apart and the harder you stretch them, the tighter the knot. That was us this year, being stretched and yet being drawn closer to the Lord. Thank the Lord for His grace and mercy.

Shopping

Gabe turned 7 on Sunday and for his birthday he really wanted to go swimming. He also really wanted to go to McDonald's. We let our kids pick somewhere to go out to eat for their birthday and we usually get some good suggestions. Gabe picked McDonald's. Due to scheduling difficulties, only 8 of the kids made it to McDonald's with us. That didn't stop four people at the booth next to us from asking all sorts of questions about all those kids ... "Are all of them yours?" one lady asked. Julie broke it gently that they are all ours, in addition to the four who weren't with us, which makes 12. That prompted all sorts of conversation. We patiently answered the questions and our inquisitors eventually mosied out the door and we finished our excellently tasty nuggets, fries and hangaburgers. Then one of the guys in the group that was amazed by Julie's productivity showed up at the window holding his poodle. "This is my baby," he said through the window. Things like this happen all the time to us.

It wasn't until today that I managed to take Gabe swimming at an indoor pool in Williamsburg to satisfy his birthday wishes. The kids who wanted to go swimming included Gabe, Eli, Ezra, Olivia and MerriGrace. One problem, though. MerriGrace didn't have a swimsuit because she loaned it to Madeline, who had gone with Evie to a friend's birthday party that involved staying at Great Wolf Lodge in Williamsburg, which features an indoor water park. But good news abounds. Right next to the indoor pool we were going to is a shopping center that has JC Penney, Target, Kohl's and a Dick's Sporting Goods. We would find a swimsuit; I was sure of that. I just didn't realize it would entail going to all four stores. Ay caramba. We hit Penney's first. Alas, no swimsuits. In the second store -- Target -- we found no swimsuits. But Olivia doesn't have a winter coat and I found this little coat that made her eyes light up. Literally. She's 21 months old tomorrow and the girl has a clothes thing. How does this happen? Anyway, this coat was, well, I don't know how to describe it, other than fashionable. Her teenage sisters would wear it, if it came in their size, of course. But it wasn't really functional, from a warmth standpoint. She'd look good, but not necessarily feel good in a warm sort of way. So I put the coat back on the rack and we headed for Kohl's. To find a swimsuit. We walked in the doors and to our left were these mini-shopping cart type of things that are kind of like double strollers with a place in the back to put all the clothes. I put Eli in the front seat, Olivia behind him and Ezra stood in the place to put all the clothes. This elderly lady in a wheelchair was watching me and smiled sweetly. "Five children," she said. "Such beautiful children." I made a command decision not to say anything to this frail looking woman in a wheelchair about our other 7 children. I didn't want to be responsible for the shock it might cause her and any immediate health issues she may have experienced. So we rolled through Kohl's to the girl's section. No swimsuits. That's really shocking. No swimsuits in the dead of winter. We had hit JC Penney's -- no swimsuits. Target -- no swimsuits. And then Kohl's, only to find no swimsuits. Amazing, isn't it. I did find a functional pink "bubble coat" for Olivia that was really warm ... but she wouldn't put it on. Seriously. Is a 21-month-old girl imbued with some sort of fashion lens that sees a pink bubble coat and says, "Does Dad think I really want to wear that coat? Gross!" I bought it anyways and managed to wrestle it on her before we got outside in the 39-degree, windy and freezing afternoon. The girl was going to stay warm whether she looked good or not. And really, it is a cute coat. It's pink! With a little dark pink heart on it! And a pink hood!

Our last stop was Dick's. Surely they have swimsuits...right? I mean, sporting goods ... swimming ... that's a sport. Right? Yes, they do have swimsuits at Dick's. I'm happy to report that they do, especially considering it was the last option for us. They even have a swimsuit that fits MerriGrace. Or did. It wasn't cheap, but I was not to be denied. At that point I would've hocked Olivia's pink bubble coat to buy a swimsuit for MerriGrace so we could take Gabe swimming. I looked at a clock in the store ... we had left Gloucester two hours ago. Sigh. I managed to buy the swimsuit and within 20 minutes or so we were in the water. Gabe was happy. And best of all, Olivia didn't have to wear her functional pink bubble coat in the water.

Savior

Our Christmas Eve service was such a sweet time with friends. We had about 50 people here and interspersed Scripture readings from Luke 2 and Matthew 2 with classics such as "Hark The Herald Angels Sing," "Silent Night," and others. I talked about shepherds and we also looked closely at the word "Savior" that Luke used to talk about the birth of Jesus Christ in verse 11: "For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord." (NKJV) That word in Hebrew means to be "rescued, delivered, saved; or to rescue, deliver, save." Divine salvation has its focus on rescue from earthly enemies, occasionally referring to salvation from guilt, sin and punishment. In the Old Testament, the word "savior" is used 13 times. The first reference is in 2 Samuel 22:3 in a song written by David on the day the Lord had delivered him from all his enemies and from the hand of Saul. It's very similar to Psalm 18. David had been spared vengeance of earthly enemies, through God his savior. He understood the word and concept very well. The prophet Isaiah uses "savior" eight times, the theme often being that there is no savior apart from God. As it says in Isaiah 43:11: "I, even I am the Lord, and besides me there is no savior." (NKJV)

In the the New Testament, "savior" is used 24 times. In the Greek it means "one who delivers from grave danger." In the New Testament this always refers to God the Father and Jesus Christ as savior of believers from righteous wrath to a proper relationship with God. Savior implies that we need to be saved from something ... which is sin. It's sin that separates us from God. In the Old Testament our sins could only be covered through the sacrificial system. It wasn't until Christ, the Lamb of God, whose blood was shed on the cross, who died and rose again three days later, that we received atonement for our sins. Our slate is wiped clean through Christ. It is amazing that 2,000 years ago a baby was sent to earth as our savior. And that news of Christ's birth was spread by a raggedy group of shepherds who would not have even been allowed to testify in a court of law. "And all those who heard it marveled at those things which were told them by the shepherds," Luke wrote in 2:18. Today is the day after Christmas. Most everyone has moved on. The kids are playing with their new toys, the Christmas trees will be coming down, the lights put away. There's shopping to be done -- post-Christmas sales to hit with all those gift cards! -- leftovers to be downed. But don't forget to take some time to marvel at those things which have been told us through God's word. And don't forget to marvel at our Savior.

Shepherds

I've been thinking about shepherds lately. We're having a Christmas Eve service -- 5 o'clock Thursday, you're all invited -- to sing some hymns and carols, read out of Luke 2 and I'll share a short message. As I read Luke's account of the birth of Christ, I can't help but wonder about the shepherds who saw the angel of the Lord. I've read accounts that 2,000 years ago shepherds were the pickpockets and thieves of the day. The sorry, no-account drifters who were troublemakers and virtually indentured servants. Things haven't changed much, perhaps. I've enclosed a link at the bottom of this post to help you see where I'm going with this thing.


But let me describe the life of a modern-day sheepherder in the barren Wyoming outback, where you might be in charge of a flock of 1,500 or 2,000 sheep: On call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Your home is a 5 x 10 "campito" without running water. Have to go to the bathroom? Here's a shovel. You have no electricity. The searing summer days can hit 100 degrees. On Christmas Day at a sheep camp near Encampment, Wyo., look for a high of 14 degrees, with a low of zero. And snow. Your heat source is a wood stove. It might even work, particularly if you have wood. In addition to no days off, a sheepherder must be able to ride a horse and repair fences. Not to mention guard the flock against predators and poisonous weeds. Not only that, a decent worker should be able to assist in lambing, docking, castrating (Rocky Mountain oysters baby!), dehorning, shearing, vaccinating, drenching and medicating the sheep. Sometimes the work gets a little hairy -- or worse. Wolves are a constant problem in parts of Wyoming. Other places have bigger problems. On Sept. 14 in Sublette County, a sheepherder was attacked by a grizzly bear. Miraculously he lived. The bear left a 7-inch gash in the man's head, two punctures on the left side of his chest, three claw wounds on his gut and a punctured wrist. Oh, here's the kicker. The pay is $650 a month. And all the sagebrush you can see.


Yet these are the guys the angel of the Lord came to tell about the birth of the Messiah, our Savior. Why? Why not the Bethlehem Town Council? Or the Bethlehem Chamber of Commerce, or Rotary Club? Surely a group of men existed in metropolitan Bethlehem that were far more qualified to have an audience with an angel of the Lord than a bunch of sketchy shepherds. This is what I love about God. He takes the sorriest, no accountenest knuckleheads and uses them for His glory. Read about their response to the news of the birth of Christ. I'd say they were transformed. Any thoughts on what kind of weight it carried when these guys started spreading the word about what they had heard and seen? No wonder Luke describes it thusly in 2:18: "And all those who heard it marveled at those things which were told them by the shepherds." (NKJV)


There's a part of me that would like to taste the life of a Wyoming sheepherder. What's it really like out there? How bad is it? Could I endure it for more than a few days? I can think of one redeeming aspect of a sheepherder in Wyoming. When night falls in that big sky that stretches from the end of the earth to the end of the earth, unobstructed by trees, or houses, or apartments, or skyscrapers, without artificial light flickering for maybe a hundred miles, you can look up at a billion stars and be amazed by the hand of God. I reckon that's what those shepherds were doing 2,000 years ago, before the angel even appeared. They were looking up.


http://www.flickr.com/photos/8364558@N07/522593774/

Light

Today is the shortest day of the year, officially the start of "winter." The long shadows throughout the day are a dead giveaway that the sun clings to the horizon and that we are tilted away from the great orb. It's cold and dark for most of the day. When it's cold and the sun is obscured by clouds, kids know that there's a chance snow will fall. So what's that mean around the world, in terms of lengths of days on Dec. 21, 2009? In Copenhagen, Denmark, which has been in the news lately for some reason, the daylight will last 7 hours and 2 minutes. In Nairobi, Kenya, daylight runs 12 hours, 12 minutes long. Here in Gloucester, the sun rose at 7:17 a.m. It will set at 4:52 p.m. In Corvallis, Ore., the day is shorter by 46 minutes, with the sun rising at 7:47 a.m. and setting at 4:36 p.m.

The shortest day of the year is a day of hope. That doesn't sound right, but that's how it sits with me. Winter's fury is yet to be unleashed in its fullest in most places, including here I imagine. As you can see from the photos, it wasn't all that long ago we were outside in t-shirts. The change in weather unfurls abruptly here. Though it may be cold, provided the skies are clear, the sun will shine a little longer each day now. The photos you see up there were taken by some of my daughters -- Evie and Claire, I believe. One is a shot at the beach in Murrells Inlet, South Carolina, back in October. The other is our backyard a few weeks ago. Then you have the shot of Gabe holding the sun on a stick. That's a great shot, eh? As I think about light and how much I enjoy the sun, particularly on these winter days, I think of the true light: Jesus Christ. The light of the world.