rhonda mccoy

Well, dear friends, I am once again sitting here with my laptop, about to give you an update on sweet Charlie. I don’t want to be typing these words right now, but you are my prayer warriors, you are my friends, you have carved out a place in your heart for Charlie. And so, I write…

As you know, we have had a 2 week breather so to speak in tests, treatments, pokes and prodding. We have been lifting Charlie in prayer continually. We have been praying scripture over her, and teaching our girls to pray, to quote scriptures, and to simply trust. Simply trust.

We are scheduled to have scans repeated on her head and chest on Monday, and possibly start as soon as next week. That is what our logic told us to do. That is what the doctors who have dedicated their lives to saving the lives of little children, have told us to do.  So, with our minds….we scheduled. With our hearts…we simply trust.

So, tonight just after giving Charlie her bath, I was getting her dressed and she was being her silly self. Laughing, giggling, and being squirmy as usual. In the middle of one of her biggest laughs, I saw a lesion on her top right gum. (One of the telltale signs of LCH). At first, I thought it was something in her mouth….then we played the “say ahhhh” game, and I was silently punched in the gut. I am guessing some angels were dispatched immediately as they saw my shoulders droop, and ever so gently they took hold of my elbows and began the task of lifting my arms until the strength had been renewed.

I immediately sent word to Everett, who was not here at the time, and then we were able to talk and lift each other’s faith and spirits. I am so thankful for a husband who loves his family and his God so passionately. No, we don’t have answers. Yes, we are hurting. But, this one thing we are assured of. God will get, and IS getting the glory, even now! We may be on a rickety boat on a stormy ocean wave, but we have a calm, just knowing that the God who created Charlie, has His hands on the oars. Ephesians 3:20 says “Glory be to God! By his mighty power at work within us, he is able to accomplish infinitely more than we would ever dare to ask or hope”. We have dared to ask. We have hoped. And we give Glory to God!

The past couple of weeks have brought me in contact with many wonderful people who are parents, friends, etc…to a child with LCH. It has been such a blessing to talk with these moms, and friends, and draw strength and support from them. I want to share with you what a new friend (as of yesterday) :-) had shared with me tonight. It is the passage from Psalm 91. Such a beautiful passage, and one I have heard many, many times, but tonight every word had a new significance. It was as if God was writing this on my heart. A portion of it says this:

“Those who live in the shelter of the Most High
Will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
This I declare about the Lord:
He alone is my refuge, my place of safety;
He is my God, and I trust him.
For he will rescue you from every trap
And protect you from deadly disease.
He will cover you with his feathers.
He will shelter you with his wings.
His faithful promises are your armor and protection.”

So, tonight I have the promise of safety. He is not only my (and Charlie’s) armor and protection, He has decided to cover us. Not with stones, wood, heavy wool blankets, or a scratchy tarp, but He has chosen feathers. It’s like He is tucking us in…pulling that fluffy feather comforter of His love right up around our chin, wrapping it under us, and whispering….”I have you covered. Do you see those wings above? They are mine. That is your shelter. You have trusted me. And I delight in that. Sleep well, little one….”.

Please keep us in your prayers. We feel each and every one of them and are so grateful for the outpouring of love and support. Love to you all tonight.

 Psalm 111:3 “Everything He does reveals His glory and majesty…”

Disclaimer: This blog entry is a little more transparent than usual. Proceed with that in mind.

I used to love rollercoasters. For several years while living in Indiana, the highlight of the summer was a trip or two to Cedar Point. I absolutely loved everything about it. The 3 hour drive there, pulling in to the parking lot, the excitement as we walked through the gate, and then the rush to get to our favorite ride. It was there we saw the sign saying “60-90 minute wait from this point”.  And then more fun….waiting, people watching, drinking a diet coke, all while slowly working our way through the line.

The best part was when you finally made it to the top of the never ending stairs and you then stood like cattle in little tiny lines, just to wait for the “right” seat. Sometimes it was the first seat, sometimes the last seat, and if you want to play it safe, you went for a middle seat. I usually made my way to the back, took my seat, felt the massive harness click in place, and then… wow. Adrenaline rush. We were chugging away from the station…tentative screams beginning. Slowly we went up the hill that seemed to reach to the clouds. I loved the view from there. You could see Lake Erie, the park, beautiful trees…..WHAM!  We were suddenly flying down a hill at a 90 degree angle, and my stomach was in my throat. The rest of the ride was total chaos of screaming, and laughing till you cried.

That was then. I haven’t been on a roller coaster in quite a while. Not because I don’t want to …I just haven’t had the opportunity. As of late, I have been on a roller coaster of a different kind though. I call it the Emotional Magnum (in honor of my old favorite ride). :-) I have to say, that this one is not near as fun. I feel like I just ran through the gate, found our ride, and just saw the sign saying “WAIT….from this point”. No time limit. It just says WAIT.

So, I am very slowly making my way through the line. It seems each day I look and see someone else waiting in the same line. Every now and then I get a glimpse of someone who is cheering and screaming as they just got off the ride. Soon I will climb the steps, with the hand of my husband and the tiny hand of my youngest daughter, and we will choose our seat, feel that harness click in place, and then we will be off for the ride of our life.

I have decided that along the way, I will show Charlie the beautiful blue skies, we will look at the lakes, and the trees, we will scream and laugh until we cry. Her daddy will take her fishing this summer. She will hold on tight to the chains of a swing and giggle as we push her higher. She will dump water on her sister’s sand castles. She will go swimming in the heat of the Alabama summer. She will curl up on my lap after a long day, and drift off to sleep. She will snuggle close to her Daddy’s chest as he carries her to her bed.

Am I in denial? No, I am in acceptance. I accept the love of our Heavenly Father. I accept the Truth of His Word that says He will never leave us. I accept His gift of healing. I accept the promise of Nahum 1:7 ^“The Lord is good, a strong refuge when trouble comes.  He is close to those who trust in him”.

Although today, I may have butterflies on this here ride called the Emotional Magnum, I am hanging on for dear life, ready to burst forth with laughter and squeals of delight. Because that’s what you do on rollercoasters, isn’t it?

When I hear the words “life is a journey”, I usually think of a slow, lazy trip that one is taking with interesting little twists and turns along the way.  Our journey as of late has been like being stuck on the Verrazano Bridge at 5:30 pm with no A/C in the middle of July, with hungry kids screaming in the backseat, my Diet Coke all gone, a migraine, and the gas tank pushing well below “E”. I think you have the picture!

It’s not really that bad, to be honest. But I think to best describe it, we are just walking.  One foot in front of the other…the cool down, so to speak.  I thought I would try to keep everyone updated on Charlie’s journey, by keeping up blog entries when there has been a new development or change in plan, etc.

We want to thank each and every one of you for your many, many prayers, concerns, talks, listening ears, wisdom, and most of all just being there. The one thing we have learned in such a short time these past few weeks is that there is still a lot of good in this world. There are compassionate eyes, and open arms. There are shoulders that still do not mind if you cry on them. There are strangers who become close to your heart in an instant.

Yesterday,  Charlie has her skeletal survey done. Basically, a full body x-ray to look for any holes or lesions in her bones. We later met with her oncologist, Dr. Watts, at Children’s Hosptial here in Birmingham.

He informed us that the gum lesion that was biopsied in December had been re-evaluated and it was also LCH (Langerhans Cell Hystiocytosis). He then let us know that there were at least one, and maybe 2 holes that showed up on her skull from the skeletal survey. These three things combined put her in the “Multi-site, high risk” category.” Multi-site”, because of all 3 locations, and “high risk” because of a major organ (lung) involvement.

He explained the recommended treatment (combination of steroids and IV Chemo) which is a national protocol that all of the doctors follow when treating LCH. We were all in agreement to wait a couple of weeks, repeat the Chest CT, and a full Head CT. He is recommending we start the treatment at that time.

We know that the God we serve is a Healer! Please continue to hold our precious Charlie in your prayers. God will get the glory, regardless of which way the road twists or turns in the days ahead. No matter what path our feet walk down, God will have gone before us, paving the way.

His Hand will be evident. His Arms will be constant. His “Grace” will be sufficient.

Yesterday afternoon, Charlie Grace and I pulled into the now very familiar parking deck at Children’s Hospital. We were here to get the results from her lung biopsy that was done about a week and a half ago. I have to be honest. I really and truly expected more of the same. “Negative, negative, negative”. 

So, the doctor comes in and asks me how much they had told me when we were discharged from hospital a week before. Hmmm, that doesn’t sound promising. She then tells me that Charlie has been tested positive for a condition called Histiocytosis, and then sums it up by saying “its’s not really cancer, but treated like it, with chemo, etc”. We are to get yet more blood work, and then see the oncologist down the hall.

We grabbed our yogurt, bag of Sun Chips and pretzels, and headed to the lab. It was there that I once again had a glimpse of love. As I have mentioned before, Charlie doesn’t do well with getting her blood drawn. She has very tiny veins that love to collapse. This time, I decided to say to her over and over a phrase from a song I made up and sing to her a lot. So I am saying “Happy girl, good girl”, and through her screams and tears, she cries out “Happy dirl, dood dirl!” I just squeezed her closer and said “yes, baby you are a good, good girl and it’s gonna be ok!!”

Later on, while driving down the interstate,  I would cry out to God, and it probably sounded to Him a bit like Charlie’s cry to me. Full of anguish, a little hard to understand, but you know what? He understood and at that moment, I felt Him squeeze me just a little tighter and say…it’s gonna be ok!!

I love how God lets the little things, the ordinary, become so monumental just when we need it. Yesterday was full of ups and downs emotionally.  Last night I was lying down with Dakota, our 2 and half year old, and thought she had fallen asleep. Thoughts from the day took over and with my mind and body being weary, I began to cry. It was then I felt her stir. She reached over and put her arm around my neck and said 3 precious words…. “Pray…Mommy sad”, and then leaned over and gave me the sweetest kiss on my cheek.

I am thankful for the moments when fear fades, and is replaced with hope. I am now living out the words of a famous phrase.  Love conquers all. It really does.  It was love that saw 3 beautiful little girls, picked us out to be their mommy and daddy, and put within us the strongest love you can imagine. 

Dearest Dakota, Addison, and Charlie Grace….these days are a little topsy turvy, but know that we love you more than we will ever be able to express.  You have a Heavenly Father whose love for you makes ours pale in comparison. So never fear, baby girl, love always has and always will conquer all.

“You have taught children and infants to tell of Your strength, silencing your enemies and all who oppose you“. Psalm 8:2 (Thank you to my brother David for sending this scripture…)

Almost 2 weeks ago, on a Monday morning, our 16 month old daughter Charlie and I made our way to Children’s hospital for some blood tests. We had gone in the week before for a CT scan of her jaw to make sure a small cyst that had been removed in December was in fact still gone. It was ok, but because she is tiny, part of her lungs showed up in the image. There was concern as there appeared to be spots in the top of both lungs. This caused the radiologist to call the surgeon to call our pediatrician who called us. (Whew! Lots of calls made that day!) We needed to go to see a Pulmonary doctor at Children’s.

So…back to our Monday morning. Here we are getting blood tests as a preliminary to our appointment on Friday. About an hour and a half of waiting, and nap time, by the way, we were finally called back. Charlie looks over at the empty vials and starts crying. I guess she remembered the collapsed vein from a couple of weeks back.  Ok, not a good start. 7 vials to get today!  For 10 minutes I sang Elmo’s Song, ABC’s, Jesus Loves Me….you name it! I am holding this child so tight, and let me tell you, she was fighting!! I glance over to see…..no blood coming out. Great, another collapsed vein.  We move to the other arm, and the wailing, twisting and fighting begins. It was then that a song from years back came to mind and I started singing in her ear “I Feel Jesus….I feel Jesus…I feel Jesus in this place….”. I was almost shocked at how still Charlie became. She just laid her head back on me, and rested for 10 minutes as they continued to draw blood. She rested!  With her tears and my tears flowing….I sang and she listened. It was a God moment if I have ever had one.

I left that day wishing that I could let every single person who doubts, has been disillusioned, or whose faith is low, that there is a God. His name is Jesus, and last Monday He was at 1600 7^th Ave South, in a small back room of the lab.

My husband Everett, and I took Charlie back to Children’s that Friday to meet with the doctor and also had a new chest x-ray. This confirmed what they had suspected. There were lesions, spots, holes, and fluid throughout both lungs and this was urgent that we find out what is causing this. We were to admit her for extensive testing the following Monday. That brings me to 4 days ago.

First of all, I never knew before that 4 days could feel like 4 weeks. It seems that church last Sunday was months ago. They have run numerous tests, a Chest CT scan, put us in isolation for 2 days, released us from that, and just in time, I might add. This morning I was eating Starburst jelly beans like popcorn and marching around the room for exercise .  Stir Crazy isn’t even an accurate enough description!

With so many of the tests being more blood work, you can imagine the stress level. Our poor sweet Charlie girl! I have watched her though, and been amazed at this precious 16 month old. She is so brave. When they come to draw blood, she starts crying, and fights her way the whole time, sometimes screaming “Mommyyyyy”, but as soon as they are done? She smiles at them, sometimes gives them a high five. And she always curls in my lap after.

This really had me thinking. I think when Jesus said in Matthew 19 to “let the children come to him”, this is one of the reasons. There is nothing….nothing like the faith of a child. To be hurt over and over and over, and not hold a grudge. Still smile. Still give a high five. Still search out a lap for security, and arms to hold close when they feel bad. Now that is faith. That is saying I trust you. I know you love me. I don’t know why this is happening, but I know whose arms I want right now….my mama’s or my daddy’s.

As this week is coming to a close, they have decide to do a lung biopsy on her tomorrow morning to just go right to the source and hopefully have answers for us soon. I wish she didn’t have to go through this. As a parent, it breaks my heart to see her in any pain, and understanding risks and complications, of course makes me worry for her. But the worry fades because  of a look between a mama and her baby girl.

I look into Charlie’s big beautiful brown eyes, and I see nothing but love and trust. She taught me something this week. No matter what I am facing, or how much this is hurting my heart, I too know where to turn. I look to the heavens and smile. I hold no grudges….God is not my enemy….His arms are my refuge. I know He loves me, and He loves Charlie even more than I do. We have no doubts and nothing to fear. Jesus is walking the halls 1600 7^th Ave South tonight where He is surrounded by brave little hearts and faith so strong, that He is going to move some mountains with it!

My girls love listening to music as we are in the truck. One of their favorites these days is “This Little Light of Mine”. Dakota belts it out to the top of her lungs, while I catch glimpses of Addison in the mirror as she is doing some type of worship/interpretive dance! Charlie is just smiling and clapping.

Do you ever wonder why it is you are wired a certain way? My husband Everett often speaks of this as being a God-given thing that we need to embrace. God is the one who gave you the dream, the likes and dislikes, the goals, the ambition. As a matter of fact, he spoke about this just this past weekend at church. I have heard it a lot in our 20 years of marriage, but for some reason when it comes to me, I ignore it. Well, I did until about 2 years ago.

I have always wanted to be a mom, and when life dealt me a crummy deck of cards, I thought I was out of the game. Yet somewhere in the back of my mind, I always knew I would one day be a mom. Didn’t know exactly how it would play out, but I just knew. We had always wanted to foster and/or adopt, and about 2 years ago, we decided to go for it! We didn’t know what to expect, and certainly never thought in our wildest dreams we would be blessed with the 3 beautiful girls God has placed in our heart and hands.

So, I should be all content and have the SAHM (stay at home mom) warm and fuzzies, right? I should be happy just knowing that I am making a difference in my girls. Why obsess about other causes? Why stay up late at night just thinking, writing, and researching. I should be folding laundry, or packing the diaper bag, or cleaning the floors!! Instead, I am recalling a conversation that I had about 27 years ago.

I was 17 and soon to graduate from high school. Sitting in the counselor’s office at a local college, they asked me what wanted to accomplish by going to college. My answer came quickly. I want to work as a pro bono attorney for abused women and children. My parents always told me to dream big! Well…the counselor decided it was her duty to be frank. I was not eligible for student loans, grants or scholarships, so I would probably need to find another field. I left that day so discouraged, but I thought I had better accept it and move on. So I did. I ended up working my way up in the ophthalmic world and had a good career….without a much desired college education.

Fast forward 25 years…little did I know that when we started the process to foster and adopt that it would ignite these dreams that I thought I had put to rest. What once seemed so far- fetched, ambitious, and elusive now had a face. It had a name, it had an eye color, and it had real tears. I have seen a mothers heart break, knowing she will never hold her child again. I have seen the pain in the eyes of a young abused mother. I have seen her tug at her sleeves to hide the bruises.  I have stood beside a teenage girl as she is told by her father that he doesn’t have time for her. I saw her almost cry, and then, I saw the anger. I have heard a lonely heart cry out for someone to love them.

The other day, I was faced with a tough situation and it began the wheels spinning again. I must do something. I can’t just sit by. There has to be a better way. God, why do you put these things on my heart?? I like it better when I just daydream about a new dessert recipe or my coffee shop I want to open one day!!

I wish I could say that I had answers, or a plan, a goal in mind. I don’t. I am a mom to 3 busy toddlers, and for now they must be my main focus. Although I am not seated behind a table in a busy courtroom, there is a part of me that is still an advocate for these women and children that God continues to somehow place along my path. I cannot petition the courts for their rights, or their best interest, but I am petitioning the Ruler of the universe for their protection.

God, you know where the hurting hearts are. You alone saw their tears today. You hear their whispers in the dark of night. You held their trembling hand until they fell asleep. Grant to us boldness to step into their lives and be the light that they need. Help me not to be so consumed with my world that I fail to see Your world.  And help me to hear Your voice, and really listen and obey. Even if your voice in the form of a 2 year old little girl singing to the top of her lungs “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine!!!!” Amen

Someone once said that there are two kinds of people in the world. Those who walk in a room and say “Here I am!”, and those who walk in a room and say “Ahhh, there you are.”

I was thinking earlier about people who I consider heroes or influential in my life.  I quickly realized that they had not accomplished any great feat, their names were not household names, and in actuality, they were most likely overlooked many times in life. They were ordinary. They were refreshing. They were authentic.

This really hit home in my heart. Yes, it’s ok to have dreams and want to accomplish great things, and strive for the best, but what about the simple art of just being real?  Really listening. Really caring. Really giving.

We have all met or known someone in our lives that is so frustrating because you never know what they are thinking.  Their words are laced with obvious half-truths, diversions, flowery or flattery speech, and so on. You walk away with a wrinkled brow and a confused mind!

On the other hand, most of us have met that person who when you are in their presence, it’s like a warm blanket being wrapped around your shoulders on a frigid night. They are genuine. There are no “airs” about them. They are humbling. And if you really think about it, have they done some grandeur thing? Probably not….. in most people’s eyes.  But heaven applauds. The angels sing.  God smiles.

Recently, someone in my life went from acquaintance to hero. The realization brought tears to my eyes as I thought of how I almost missed this. I almost missed hearing a heart speak. I almost missed a touch of kindness. I almost missed renewed inspiration.

So often we look for the Hand of God writing on the wall, and we never see the hand He has sent reaching for ours.

There is this trend of self-awareness, self-improvement, better self-image, etc…that has exploded our world. I love Whitney Houston, but the greatest love of all is not learning to love yourself.   It’s genuinely, authentically, truly loving and caring for others. That is the greatest love of all.

Today, I am appreciating authenticity. I am grateful for the genuine.  I am blessed to have these heroes in my life, whether for a moment, a season or a lifetime.  I am thankful for the gentle souls who have walked into my world and said “Ahhh, there you are.”  You are teaching what is really important. And what really isn’t.

 You know that feeling when you get the wind knocked out of you? It’s scary and painful and often laced with moments of panic. Maybe you remember a time as a child when you were injured. I grew up in with a houseful of brothers, so most of our ER visits were for one of them! A phrase we often hear in times like these is “It’s going to be okay”.  Very simple words, yet for some reason they bring comfort.

 A few weeks ago, I gracefully missed a step, and tripped. Ok, so I clumsily fell off the platform at church. Yes, you read that correctly. Thankfully, it was after church.

When I felt the crunch in my foot, and was suddenly sitting on the floor with pain shooting up my foot and leg, I probably would not have appreciated a quotation from a famous philosopher. A simple question from my 2 year old daughter was all I needed. With a frown and a worried look, she asked me “Mommy, you ok”? It made me relax, take a deep breath, smile at her and say “Yes, baby, I’m going to be ok”. And you know what? It was ok. Not right away, not while I was immobilized for the next few days, and losing sleep because of the pain at night. Little by little, day by day, it’s gotten better. Sometimes I feel a little twinge, a reminder that my foot was broken, but for the most part…..it’s ok.

There are several people in my life who as of late have had the emotional wind knocked out of them. It breaks my heart. I want to be strong and courageous for them and impart words of wisdom and direction and comfort into their life, but instead this one little phrase keeps popping back up in my mind. “Tell them it’s going to be ok”.  

You may have lost a job, a loved one, a friend, a baby, your faith, and even the last ounce of hope you had. You may be scared and in pain, and have moments of panic. You may be immobilized, losing sleep, or your house is just too quiet.

There is One who never leaves us or forsakes us. His hand is on your brow and He whispers words that heal. Whatever you are facing,  know that “It’s going to be ok”.

Just wait and see….little by little, day by day, you will get your breath back.

May your roots go down deep into the soil of God’s marvelous love. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how height and how deep His love really is. Ephesians 3:17b, 18 NLT

To say that I do not have a green thumb is an understatement if there ever was one. My husband teasingly says that if I even look at a plant, it will surely die! I have friends who could grow a cactus up north, but apparently their knack for gardening has never rubbed off on me.

A few years ago I excitedly told my husband I was off to Home Depot and Pikes Nursery to get plants and flowers, and …well, you can imagine the look I got.

A friend of mine graciously offered to help me plant. Actually, I watched her plant most of them, but I did make an attempt to help with the first bunch by digging the hole. An hour or so later, I had flowers!!

What I did not anticipate was the severe drought that would come to Alabama that year. With the water restrictions imposed, I watched as my flowers suffer the effects of scorching heat and no rain. Sadly, the day came when I grabbed ahold of the dried and cracked remains of one of my Daylilies (the one I planted) .  How surprised I was when I pulled it and it was as if they were sitting  just under a handful of dirt..

I then remembered the words of my friend that day saying…”oh, you have to dig deeper than that”, but I just wasn’t used to this Southern rocky soil.

It made me think how we are really like those plants. Sometimes we are content with just a bit of digging. We go to church, say our prayers every now and then, throw on some fresh topsoil, sprinkle MiracleGro and we think all is well!

But then for whatever reason, we experience a drought in our relationship with God. We may start to feel weak, and if a strong wind were to come along, we would crumble. And you know what? Drought will come. Winds will come. We will have times when we feel we are just a fragment of what we used to be.

So what do we do? We dig. We dig deep. As the verse said, we need to get our roots deep into the soil of God’s love. He is our Caretaker. He is the Master Gardener. His word says He loves us so much that each day He recounts the hairs on our head, He captures every tear that falls and saves them in a bottle. We are his prized Roses so to speak.

If today you are feeling a little weak, a bit frail, or maybe you are starving to feel life again, be assured that you are being pruned by Gentle Hands. Let those roots go deep, way deep until they are entwined in His love.

It was a day that began like all of the others, for my Grandpa. I imagine he turned back the covers, and slowly put his feet to the floor. Without thinking, he put one step in front of the other…. down the short hall to the kitchen. He may have checked on a load of laundry he accidentally left in the dryer. Grandma would never go for that! He had better turn it back on to fluff the clothes again.

Taking a few more steps, he is in the kitchen where so many memories come to mind. He can almost hear the laughter of the grandkids at Christmas as they run through, on their way out the door for some football in the snow. He smiles as he looks at the table and remembers it set for the perfect breakfast.

For some reason, everything seems nostalgic today. Then he looks at the clock and realizes, he had better hurry and get ready. He wants to pick Grandma up at the nursing home a few minutes early today.

You see, today is a bit special because he has been asked to speak at church. He makes sure his notes are in his Bible. A few minutes later, he is out the door, and starting the van. He stops by his favorite donut shop, and says hi to everyone there, and as he leaves, says a prayer under his breath for the man sitting alone at the counter, and for the weary cashier who is learning to be a single mom.

He arrives to pick up my Grandma and she gives him a kiss on the cheek while patting his other cheek and somehow today….it reminds him of the first time she kissed him. She asked him to check the back of her hair, and he fumbles around with the pins and the flower, and puts everything in its place. There, pretty as a picture!

He places his weary hands on the wheelchair, and with one foot in front of the other…he pushes his wife of almost 60 years down the long hall. He says Good Morning to a few people…asks them how they are doing. He smiles at the nurse behind the desk and says “I am going to take Betty out for lunch today, so we’ll be back later this afternoon.” With a quick wave, he rolls my Grandma out the door and onto the waiting lift to put her in the van.

On the way to church, they talk a little bit, but he is already thinking about how he is going to say some of the things that God has put on his heart to talk about. Just a simple life testimony, which is what he has decided to do. But, he wants to make it count. It has to touch someone…that is his  prayer.

They turn in to the parking lot, he shuts off the engine and gets Grandma, and begins his walk up the ramp….one foot in front of the other, he prays as he walks…wondering who will be there today that needs to hear his testimony?

The door opens, and his friend of many years is there to welcome them in. He finds his way to their seat, gets settled in and then takes a seat, just to rest and think for a few minutes before church starts. He looks around and his mind wanders. He can recall like it was yesterday…laying the carpet in this beloved church. His eyes look up and he wishes he could maybe pull his banjo out today. So many good time were had, playing his banjo with the worship band.

The church starts to fill up, the service begins. He is soon lost in the words to one of his favorite songs. Today is a good day. He can feel it from somewhere deep inside. After a few more songs, it’s time for him to speak. The Pastor calls his name.

He takes a deep breath, grabs his notes and puts one foot in front of the other…and makes his way to the front. As he rests his hands on the pulpit, it’s like he felt God’s hands resting on his shoulders. He begins to speak, and Oh, does he speak. Gentle, with love, with humor, he tells his story.

About half way through, the Hands he felt on his shoulders, now are taking his own hands, and are leading him one foot in front of the other….. to a place that he has dreamed of for so long.  Wasn’t he just singing “Oh, I Want To See Him?”

He wishes he could tell his family and friends goodbye, but then he smiles and remembers…his notes. They will tell everyone goodbye….they will finish his story.

And so….he takes the Hand of His Maker, and puts one foot in front of the other…..he is home.

A week or so later, his pastor read the rest of Grandpas notes at his homecoming service. It was one of my most cherished times in God’s presence. One of my Grandpa’s  favorite songs was The Last Mile, and I have often thought of his last mile…and decided to share how I imagine his day went. It makes me realize that every day, every decision, every word, and every step we take should be for the good of others.

 We often let the cares, stresses or even busyness of life take over, and we forget just why we are here. It may be to fluff some clothes in a dryer, it may be cooking dinner, it may be saying hello to the clerk at the dry cleaners, it may be punching a clock, it may be dispensing medicine, it may be sending the kids off to school in time.

When your feet hit the floor tomorrow, and you put one foot in front of the other, and are off to your busy day…may you touch the lives of all those whose paths you cross.