Minister shares experience in civil rights movement

Minister shares experience in civil rights movement

Counting Blessings

PHOTO: Some say I look a little bit like cooking mogul Paula Dean. You be the judge…

The three ‘C’s’ of Christmas are: 1) Cooking 2) Cooking, and 3) Cooking. I think between the nine adults sleeping at my house over the holidays, the little space in front of my stove was the most used real estate in the whole house, and that includes the bathrooms. We took turns, baking bread, pies, cookies, candy, turkey, sweet potatoes, dressing, and the list goes on. It was fun, but if I don’t have to stand in front of my stove for the next month boiling water or anything else that resembles cooking, I’ll be a happy woman.

The Clevelands had a lovely Christmas together. We had much to celebrate and much to be thankful for. We had our Papa/father/husband with us, strong and celebrating a victory over cancer. We had my parents, 2Pops and Granny Jane, 83-years young, sitting on the couch in their furry robes opening presents with us on Christmas morning. We had six little people sitting on the floor in footie-jammies, oohing and awing their way through wrapping paper and toys. We had a crackling fire keeping us warm, a white Christmas outside to keep us in the spirit and of course, food. We had food. Lots of food.

But, my most favorite moments were when I was able to just sit quietly and listen to the sounds around me. Children chattering with sweet voices that came straight from angels; My parents having quiet conversations with their grown grandsons; my daughter-in-laws laughing together in the kitchen-- in front of the stove, of course; And, toddlers squeaking and squealing around our knees like soft squeeze toys. Could a cup be any fuller?

These are the moments I want to breathe in and hold inside of me. It will be these moments I will return to when the snow melts and the mud starts clinging to my shoes. When the days wear on and I feel afraid or stressed or beaten down, I will remember the health on my husband’s face, the giggles of my grandchildren, the light in my mother’s eyes, and the goodness in my sons’ hearts. And, I will once again be reminded how gracious God has been to me.

It’s a new year, dear friends. I’m counting my blessings. I hope you are too.

deb

Below are a few family photos from the holidays... Thanks for stopping by...

JOY TO THE WORLD

I don't believe that Jesus Christ was born on December 25. I believe that if you did a little historical snooping, you'd find that that date probably isn't anywhere close. However, I do believe in Jesus. I do believe He was born… sometime, and that there is probably a really good reason why we don't know the exact date.

It's not the date that’s important anyway-- it's the event. Isn't it amazing how just the thought of a little baby, wrapped in simply cloth and asleep in a hewn-out trough compels us to be more courteous and thoughtful over 2,000 years later?

In remembering His birth, hopefully, I will remember His life. Jesus not only toddled, He walked on water; His mother fed him. He fed thousands; As a baby, He cried when He was in need. As an adult, He prayed; As an infant, He snuggled on his dad's lap. As a man, children snuggled on his; As a baby he needed. As a Savior, He gave; As a child, He played hide & seek. As God, He doesn't.

His birth was a miracle. His life was a challenge. His death was a triumph. Jesus is to be celebrated on all three counts, not simply one day a year, but everyday… with joy!

Blessed Christmas, dear ones…

deb

HOMECOMINGS...

PHOTO CAPTION: 2Pops & Granny Jane last summer with two of their great-granddaughters, Paisly & Zella.

We survived the big snowstorm last weekend. Lots of scary moments in the car traveling back from a friend’s wedding in IL, but we finally made it home safe and sound. When we walked through the door, never had a homecoming been so sweet. The house was warm, air tight and welcoming. Of course the fact that our car got stuck in the driveway and we had to trek through waist-high drifts to make it to the front door, made it all the sweeter.

Homecoming.

We are in the season of Homecoming. Whether we travel there physically or just in our minds, we will go there. We can’t help it. This year the physical homecoming is at our house. Today, we pick my folks up from the Chicago airport. Then come Christmas Eve our house will become even noisier when the three kids, wives and the six grandchildren bound through the door. Ahh, homecoming.

And, then there is the homecoming in my mind. I will look at my grown sons and see only little guys who once delighted in dipping pretzels in chocolate and who helped pick our Christmas trees at some lot followed by a trip to the donut shop. Our tradition was to decorate the tree while eating donuts and drinking chocolate milk.

I will look at my folks and see them younger. I will remember eating Christmas dinner on the picnic table dressed in shorts (I was raised in Florida) and the excitement of Christmas mornings with my aunts, uncles and a whole slew of cousins.

Homecomings. Then and now. I will pray that yours will be as loved-filled as God meant them to be… because boy, oh boy, does He have a great one planned for us someday. Until then, may we enjoy the blessings of now…

Love you, friends.

deb

FLORIDA GIRL MEETS SNOW

PHOTO CAPTION: Me & Murphy walking on a beach on Lake Michigan.

I think most of you know that I was raised in Pinellas Park, Florida. I’m no stranger to beaches. I love them. I love everything about them. The walking on the warm sand is like getting a foot massage at one of the best spas. Floating on your back in the salt water as the waves lull you to sleep is the most relaxed you’ll ever get. Watching sand crabs dart in and out is a treat. And, in my day, we would find starfish and sand dollars galore as we walked ankle deep down the shore. Yep, I know beaches.

However, this past week while Gary and I were decompressing in Sister Bay, the beach there threw me a new experience. Snow! I have never been walking on a beach while it was snowing. Being from Florida, you can understand why. What an odd sensation. Think of spaghetti with chocolate sauce. Or brats in your rice pudding. It was two very different sensations at once. And, I had to smile. God knows how to get my attention.

You see, Gary and I have just lived in a world of two sensations. The world of cancer with all its ugly stuff like open wounds, infections, and pain. And, the world of caring and hope where people who love you rally around and lavish their good thoughts, their prayers, their support and time on you in abundance. It was the most horrible of experiences and the most sublime of experiences.

It’s dawned on me that’s how God works best. When something bad happens we wonder where God is. But if you’re paying attention, you will find that He is everywhere in that experience. With the bad, He brings the most thrilling comfort and hope. Sort of like taking a walk in freezing weather, and then you look up and find that you are on this most glorious beach surrounded by great beauty.

I’d be curious to hear from you about your snow/beach experiences if you’d care to share. I’ll talk to you next week.

Blessings,

deb

Praying Together- A big deal

PHOTO CAPTION:
Two guys who are always on my prayer list-
Gary (Papa) and sweet grandson, Cormac

Monday, December 6, 2010-

I promised I’d write more often, so how’s twice a week sound? That will be my goal. But, you’ve got to promise to check in with me and leave me your thoughts from time to time, okay?

Well, we’re back home. Seven days in Door County is probably as close to heaven as we’ll be able to get while still here on this lovely earth. We spent a lot of time doing nothing in particular, but we were very serious about it. Lots of extra sleep. Lots of extra reading. And, lots of unhurried conversation. But one of my favorite times was one evening after supper; we huddled on the couch and prayed out loud together. We’ve done that more lately for obvious reasons. The shadow of death can do that to a couple. When one of you goes through a serious illness, it can do one of two things. Pull you apart or bring you together. We chose the latter. And prayer was a big part of what kept us close, kept us informed as to what the other was thinking or scared about. But also, one of the things we found out it that praying out loud together isn’t always easy. I never feel more vulnerable to my partner as when he is listening in on my conversation with God. I tell God things I don’t always tell my husband, but if he’s listening, then the cats out of the bag. He finds out how fearful I am, or what has been hurting me, or that maybe he isn’t the only thing/person on my mind. And, likewise.

If you haven’t prayed with someone you love lately, then I highly recommend it. I was shy at first when we started our prayer the other night. It felt a little awkward, a little forced. But then all of that fell away as my heart opened little by little to reveal what was in there—the good, bad and somewhat ugly at times. You see, I am not always this perfect little preacher’s wife you see spitted shined on Sunday mornings. I can get pretty ragged around the edges, truly. Dark spots of ugly are constantly trying to waylay me. But the other night, clasping the big, strong hands of my husband, I confessed and came clean about some of that. Gary squeezed my hand. God nodded and smiled as only a knowing Father can do.

How about you? What have your experiences been when you’ve let your guard down and prayed out loud with another? I’d love to hear about them.

Blessings, dear ones… until the next time.

deb

LET'S MAKE A DEAL

PHOTO CAPTION: October 2010- The hubs, me and our twin granddaughters, Isamae & Kasia.

December 3, 2010

Okay, so I just may be the worst blogger ever to take up space on the invisible internet airwaves, which I completely don’t understand how they work, by the way. I’m still trying to figure out the radio and TV, and yes, I couldn’t record a show off of TV if you paid me. Let’s see, I haven’t blogged since April. Yep, I’m the worst.

However, just because I haven’t blogged in a coon’s age doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing. I have and not particular on a subject I ever saw me blogging about—cancer. Melanoma to be exact. Well, actually atypical cellular blue nevus that had metastasized into a rare form of melanoma. Never heard of it? Me either. But now I’m an expert.

For those of you who did not keep up with the Clevelands on Caringbridge.org, let me quickly review. In March, my husband, Gary, had his yearly physical. Once again he asked the doc to take a look at the knot that had risen on his ankle. He’d had this knot for about seven years, but the last two years, it had started to grow into a small planet. To make a long story short, after three months of biopsies, etc., we were finally sent to Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN to have them try and figure out what was going on. Turns out it was Stage three melanoma. And, the cancer had spread to his lymph nodes in his groin. I’m going to skip a whole lot, the bottom line is that Gary just finished his last radiation treatment a couple of weeks ago and all appears to be well. We’ll go back to Mayo in January for another PET scan just to check up on things. We’ll probably be making this trip to Mayo every three months for a while.

I had been working on my third book when all of this started. But, as soon as we began what Gary called his “medical mystery tour”, all writing on the book stopped. I couldn’t get my brain to work in that direction, so I became the family chronicler of the tour. We received lovely, touching messages from friends and family all over the country—even some from out of the country. I can’t tell you how those thoughts and prayers from others sustained us during those first awful months. Plus, we have an awesome family of God’s people that we worship with every week, who took care of us in all the important ways. I’ve truly been made aware of how holy a ‘ministry of presence’ can be.

Going through something like this has taught us many lessons and revealed more to us about our faithful God and ourselves than anything else could. I’ll be blogging about some of those enlightenments as I go along. I’ll try my best to blog a little more regularly, if you promise to stop by and visit a little more regularly. Deal?

I’ll go for now, but not before I tell you where I am right now—one of my favorite places in the world. Door County. Sister Bay to be precise. Gary and I have been here all week to celebrate the end of radiation and the beginning of what comes next for us. And…I’ve finished writing my third book while here. More about that later as well.

Thanks for stopping by. I’ll keep in touch…. I promise.

deb