For Such a Time As This

“He’s being cremated, I don’t know if it’s the right decision but it has been decided”,  I had never heard these words before, well not for a loved one of mine. Cremated. How do you say good-bye and find closure when there is no body to see and gaze upon and say “good-bye” to…I must discover this…soon.
Today happens to be February 8th and this days always brings with it the echo of my big brother Mike calling me before I got the chance to call him and hear his deep voice singing, “Happy Birthday to me…happy birthday to me..” then his voice trails off in my mind as it has been over 13 years since I heard him sing or speak. Mike left this earth unexpectedly too early and too young and I look forward to our reunion in heaven.
I recall standing back and seeing our father peer into the homemade casket as he hadn’t seen Mike for nearly 30 years. He told me later he couldn’t quite see the four year old boy he last saw in the face of the 43 year old laying there void of life that Autumn day.
Mike and I were blessed to have been raised by an amazing dad who gave us his name and stood before a judge with his wife and called us their own. Our dad and our father sadly peered into the casket that day. This man was our father, our biological father, the man who will be cremated tomorrow morning.
I often think of my two fathers; both World War II veterans, same age, both lost their hearing as they aged requiring me to talk very loudly to them both. In the end both had a mind that slowly began to leave us prior to the final beats of their hearts. To the dad who chose me, loved and raised me since I was 12 months old I said my good-bye to over 6 years ago.
I am grateful for the years I’ve had to get to know the man who gave me my English, Danish, and Irish heritage. As he may not have had too many memories of me he would repeat the few he had including recalling how I would stare at all the Christmas tree lights when they brought me home from the hospital as I was born in Chicago two days before Christmas. He also recalled how I didn’t smile much as a baby; that surprised me as I was always told I didn’t smile much when Mike and I arrived to our new foster family on my first birthday.

Only God knows what that means but I love to smile now, well, other than today maybe.
I’m gazing now at our beautiful white orchid that finally bloomed Saturday evening. We’d been waiting months for new buds and then weeks before the first was willing to open Saturday night. Interesting…it was the following morning, early Sunday morning my father took his last peaceful breath in his sleep. As the orchid bloomed my father was leaving this earth. What a beautiful gift of beauty God has offered to me this week.

I will never again gaze upon my father yet I have the memory of our last visit as he ate one of my husband’s cookies which he loved. As I left him that day he told me how happy he was that he ran into me that day. Words to further confirm he didn’t know me or that I drove to see him specifically at the Veteran’s home and yes, bring him cookies. That day, with the cookie in his hand, is the picture I have in my mind to remember and say my good-bye to …and that is OK.

Blurred as memories tend to go…

In two days I will be finding my first step of closure as I gaze upon his empty room and upon the few earthly belongings he left behind. I will have the pictures, the memories and those memories he had of me now tucked neatly in my heart. No, he didn’t raise me, or walk me down the aisle, or guide, love and discipline me as my dad did. Yet, God allowed him to be my father. As I continue on this journey I carry a piece of him and the heritage he passed on to me and I will be grateful for him and for the years we had.
I long for the warmth of spring time and know that my final good-bye will be as the sound of taps is playing, the flag will be folded and rifles will be shot honoring his military service during the Second World War.

Tonight the snow continues to fall on this cold February day as I celebrate the day my brother entered this world, grieve the end of my father’s life and gaze upon an orchid in full bloom reminding me of the beauty and brevity of life on this earth. And yes, I will smile again.

Me and my mom

Recently I came across one of my writings from January 1, 2003. The hours prior on Dec 31st of 2002 ended with so many question marks for my future; I so desired to see my children find joy once again, I was mourning the loss of my brother and I desired to be a wife – again. I recall how alone I felt in the minutes before midnight as I drove the short distance from my home to a local venue with live music just to surround myself with happy people and laughter even if I didn’t know anyone. As the S. American band took a break and played their pre-recorded music over the speakers I experienced a divine appointment on the dance floor that allowed me to hear a message from God …

January 1, 2003

I brought the New Year in by listening to a live band with a “big band” sound. I was hoping to watch couples dance the “old fashioned” way where a man and woman step in tandem and he occasionally twirls her around and they look like they’ve danced like that for years. No one apparently dances that way anymore and though the music was exceptional I wasn’t witness to couples flowing around the dance floor.
Not long after midnight officially in the year of 2003 I was asked to dance by an older gentleman to a song that was of a slower beat. Though I wasn’t sure of his style of dance and there was only one other couple on the dance floor I could not turn him down. I was pleasantly surprised when he began to lead me in a dance that I was longing to see in this night. If a woman has ever

been led on a dance floor by a graceful and patient partner she will know what I felt like. I soon realized that I only had to relax in his embrace and allow him to guide the direction of our steps. Sometimes I found myself stepping backward sometimes forward with our feet within inches from each other though never touching. At one point he changed his hold on my extended hand though I wasn’t sure why. Within a few steps I realized the answer when he stepped back from me and turned himself around. My arm was outstretched and I didn’t know what to do with it so I kept it there for all of a second which seemed like minutes when he turned around to grasp my hand once again realizing that somehow we rarely separated at all. He then somehow gently guided me to spin around all the while holding on to his hands as I ended up standing directly beside him as we stepped now together in the same direction. Next he turned me back and placed me in his arms as we had originally been. This gentle-man repeated the steps until one point I was sure what step was to come next and I decided to step into it. It was only then that our flow was interrupted. Apparently it was not the step he intended and my effort at that moment made a break in the gracefulness that we had together up to that point. He kindly spoke only three words; “let me lead”. The song continued and I noticed briefly that we were being watched by others – I knew then that I had become the dance that I was longing to witness in that night. No one else flowed and spun around with gracefulness as we did in those moments. I quickly learned the wisdom in allowing my dance partner to assume his role in directing my steps. He showed his confidence and experience as I followed his lead.
Upon returning home I thought of the feel of being guided in every step and then I could hear his kind words with no hint of complaint saying … “let me lead”. I knew then that this dance I began this New Year with was God’s message to me. My Creator and Savior knows each step I am to take in this coming year and He is asking that I follow His lead. I know that He has already perfectly choreographed each step and each turn. I know that within His embrace He will gently guide me through each step. There may be times when His hand may appear out of reach but I must remember that I am always within His grasp. I also saw the lesson in not stepping where I am assuming He is taking me before He reveals His plan. I felt the awkwardness of the dance in the moment that I chose to step where I assumed I should go. If I should be so bold – or naïve – in this coming year to go in a direction that God has yet to show me I am certain that I will hear His gentle voice …“let Me lead”.
As others witnessed us on the dance floor I also realize that others are seeing the decisions I choose to make each day. Many decisions will be facing me in this coming year with graduation, job opportunities, potential suitors and endless parenting dilemmas. For the sake of my children, myself and those that are watching I need to be careful to allow God to direct and guide my every step. Throughout the song my dance partner stepped with me; I never took a step alone. God has also promised to be with me through every step of my life.
I am rather excited to begin this New Year always ready for an adventure. So now I will step into the arms of my God, feel the safeness of His embrace and sense the gracefulness of His guidance as He leads me through the dance of my life in this year.

I had no idea I would be remarried in a little over 3 months or that life would continue to be adventurous with amazing times of mountain top experiences and painful valleys.

Today is January 2, 2026 and I have much to be grateful for as God has blessed me in so many ways! Yes, He has allowed more pain and loss WHILE He has remained faithfully my God through it all. I have learned to trust more than I knew I even could looking back at who I was on this day now 23 years ago.

Should God so bless me with 23 more years on this earth I look forward to seeing how…and where…He will lead me.

I ask only for His strength to follow.

Of course I would have never heard it if my husband hadn’t woke me as he was looking out our upstairs bedroom window.  Now that I think of it I am not sure how noisy he could have been just looking out a window.  Anyway, I did wake up and with barely a voice asked, “What.. are…you …doing?”.  He replies he is trying to figure out where the sound is coming from. I hear a very familiar sound and inform him that he is just hearing a train. “Not that… the beeping”.  ughh… no…WHY did he have to tell me there is a beeping.  He should know from our years together that if I EVER here a beep or a drip or a distant unfamiliar sound in our home we have to hunt until I find it and shut…it…down, or at least plan to fix or repair whatever it is and put ear plugs for the remainder of a night just so that I can sleep.

ok. Well, there it was “beep….beep…beep” and the more I focused on it the louder it seemingly got. Before I knew it my husband was fast asleep again and I was not.   I tried to put in my ear plugs but I could still faintly pick up the sound, not like a work truck backing up, faster and I could not take it any longer. I had to find the source of the beep.

Yep, I got dressed and started walking…down the hall…down the stairs through my foyer…living room…listening and turning my head to keep me walking in the right direction.  Well, it was obviously clear it was somewhere in our neighborhood or our small downtown area.  I am now through our kitchen and know that I am going to walk outside, in the night-time, 2:30 in the morning. I unlock our door and out I go, down the steps and took a left towards downtown (it’s only half a block away so don’t worry too much). I did have a moment when I realized, “SuAnne, you don’t even have  your glasses on, you don’t even have your phone with you if something happens and you need to call for help”, did that stop me? Nah, I kept on walking.  I had a brief moment where I felt a bit psychotic following a beep and was hoping that in a matter of seconds I would not face a hundred other night walking people being lured towards  this sound. But then I quickly acknowledged to myself that ONLY happens in movies so I kept walking in a town that was totally quiet, no cars, no voices, only the constant beep… and then I saw the location from where it came.  Just an upstairs apartment or business storage; lights on in every window.  I stood on the street looking up and proud of myself in finding the source of the annoying beeping sound.

I turned and went home and quickly decided to call the local police, not the 911 but the NON emergency number.  I tried to sound as polite as I could and not too odd as I am obviously reporting a ‘beeping sound’ and can’t imagine that it would be  high on their priorities at 2:40 in the morning but I did plant the thought that it could very well be a burglar alarm AND all the lights were on in the building. I was thanked for my call and they assured me they were sending the police “right over”.

As I was returning to bed I recalled a memory from almost 18 years earlier. We lived in a country home and my boys were about 5, 8 and12. It was a summer day and they were allowed to ride their bikes on the country road in front of our property.  At one point I realized that the two youngest were no longer in my view and the 12 year old was sent on a mission to locate the two youngest; not too worried but knew they were beyond their boundaries.  It wasn’t too long and the 5 year old came wheeling up the stone driveway and he saw my face of unhappiness and he quickly said, “He heard something, he said he heard something!”.  Of course he was referring to his older brother-the impulsive and adventurous middle son.  Another minute later the oldest returns on his bike saying, “I guess he heard frogs and had to follow it until he found them down the road-he’s coming”.   Hmmm. My son heard a sound and HAD to follow it, who… does….that???

As I climbed into bed and put my earplugs in I knew that eventually the beeping would stop and I also realized my son received that impulsive inquisitive genetic response from his mother and not sure that I am totally proud of this reality.

It wasn’t but a few seconds later that this experience quickly became a spiritual lesson for me.  How quickly and obedient am I to the voice of God when He is calling me to go in a specific direction? Do I at times put in my spiritual ear plugs and pretend I am not really hearing what I think I am hearing? Do I start to go down the path God has placed before me just to stop at the door and say, “Oh, I’m not really ready… I don’t even have my glasses or my phone in case something could go wrong?” and then turn around.

As I faintly heard the beeping I quietly prayed that I would be so willing to follow God’s lead wherever He takes me and that I wouldn’t waver in my faith and that I be ready everyday to hear His voice and be obedient to His calling. It was a lesson for only me that night as apparently NO one in our neighborhood or town cared about the incessant beep that called me out of bed and down a street in the middle of the night.

It was about an hour later that the beeping did end and was SO grateful but more grateful that God allowed it to teach me an important lesson in obedience and faith.

As we walked the long corridor following the security guard’s instructions there was mostly silence between us until I heard him say.”It’s been 16 years since I’ve been here”. I agreed.  Truthfully it won’t be 16 years until October 13th but who’s counting … A helicopter brought his father here and no one or nothing was ever the same following that painful day.

Today my son is no longer 14 but thirty walking towards his third child also brought by a helicopter as her perfect home within her mother unexpectedly came to an end by a team of skilled surgeons just a few hours earlier. So Mom lay recuperating in one hospital and baby is being cared for in another where they have the skills and teams to offer her the best chance of survival.

It was beautiful to watch my first born reach through the bassinet opening to comfort his baby daughter with too many tubes and monitors speaking words of love and reassurance. He is a father and he is loving his child. Clearly one can never know where life will take you and if a medical helicopter will become a part of your story …again.

Many have joined us to pray for baby Leah and I am believing she will grow and thrive and join her big brother and sister back in their home on the lake and this story will have a happy ending… that is my hope and my prayer.

Every day I talk to people who find cloudy rainy days bringing a sense of sadness to their day…yet why?  There is a true biological connection  between our mood, emotions and sunshine or lack thereof.  So,  for many people darker days with rain and without the healing rays of sunshine do actually have a very real sense of feeling depressed, “blue” or just “down”.

I stood at my side door the other day with the temperatures inching towards 80 and it really felt like summertime-finally-yet I could hear the distant rumble of thunder. It wasn’t long before the wind kicked in and within minutes the rain started falling…pouring…and I closed my eyes….I just listened and I smelled the rain.

The sense of smell is tied the strongest to our memory bank and in that moment as I closed my eyes I was taken back to the city streets of the town I grew up in.  I was taken back to my childhood. The sound of the falling rain and smell of wet grass and cooling city streets…I remembered running in the streets and down the sidewalks with my friends feeling the cool summer rain without a care in the world.  How was it that I could so quickly be taken back to that carefree time of simple summertime rainy day fun? Wasn’t it just 10 hours earlier as I was getting ready for work that I moaned to see I would have to start my day driving to work under a gloomy rainy sky?

Opening my eyes I’m reminded I live in a different city now far beyond the age of a child yet something in me would love to just run in the street and stop to feel the rain fall on my face…but then I think, “no, you’ll probably trip and break a hip or catch pneumonia or someone will think I need my own mental health professional- not that it would be a bad thing.

Thankfully I realize that I also have the blessing of having a childhood that offered me opportunity to play and run in the rain.  I don’t imagine we played in the rain when it was lightning but maybe it was a safer time when you didn’t need to lock your house door and lightning didn’t strike little kids playing in the rain.

It’s about perspective. Yes, too many cloudy rainy days in a row can actually affect a person’s mood yet we can also take a moment to be thankful for the rain. Some areas in our country are getting too much and now there’s flooding and sadly loss of life.  I know of another country living in a state of drought with people living in a chronic state of dehydration which also can end a life too soon.

I can’t stop the floods, I can’t bring the rain.  But I can pray to the One who can.  I also realize that there may be those who see the rain and may close their eyes and smell the aromas that may take them back to a terrifying memory from their past. I pray they find healing…

I am praying for the floods to recede and the rain to fall where there is drought  AND if you see someone who looks like they could be a gramma and she  is standing in the rain with her face looking upward it could be me smelling the rain and thanking God for happy childhood summertime rainy day memories.

At a glance we may look like the same 5 people; the same smile, the same color of hair, same height yet no one returns as same person once…you’ve experience Haiti.
Its not just living without running water, limited electricity, or the plateau sounds of goats, donkeys and roosters.  It’s about experiencing God; seeing Him in the beauty of the people as we watch them live their lives in Ayiti.
Is it possible to see God in a dry and thirsty land? Where people of all ages exist in a state of chronic dehydration? Is God in the struggling baby trees wilting from a lack of rain?   Can God be seen in the life of the single mothers struggling to meet the needs of their children?
Yes, I saw God in everything and you would too if you were there. It’s hard to put into words what you witness every day; women singing praises while they cook and sweep the rocky ground with homemade brooms, children singing and dancing at their chapel service, men up in the middle of the night to drive to get water for the community AND the baby trees.

God is in the anticipation of answered prayers….for rain to fill their newly  built cistern, for rain to water their gardens, for rain to fill the dry stream beds.

God is in the answered prayers for food when the goat or the chicken becomes the next meals for the family, when the nurse shows up in the community to help with their illness, when they have the strength to walk the 4 miles to the market and have enough money to buy fruit for the week and the strength to walk home again.

God is in the breeze…in the dark clouds that rarely produces rain yet brings shade from the baking Haitian sun, in the hardy drought loving plants and the people who trust in a God who hears their prayers.                    

       Tonight I pray for rain for my friends on the plateau, for strength to those God has                          called to serve there and that the lessons that God has taught us will remain                                         within our hearts until He allows us the honor of returning once again.