rhonda mccoy

This is from a Caring Bridge update that I did in September after our family had returned from a retreat for families facing pediatric cancer. I happen to be wearing my Blue Skies t-shirt today and was just thinking again what an awesome ministry it is. If you have the opprtunity to do something like this, I encourage you to do so! You will be blessed as a volunteer, and if you are a guest as we were, you will be cared for beyond your belief!

Last night we got home from a 4 day retreat for families facing pediatric cancer. I knew it sounded good when I first read about it, but I had no idea that “good” wouldn’t even begin to describe it!
As most of you know, we have had a lot of changes in the past few years. We became pastors of a church 5 years ago, I quit my profession of 22 years 3 years ago, and a few months later, we became parents for the first time through foster care. A year ago this month, adoptions were final on our 3 baby girls, and 2 months later began the journey we are now on with Charlie’s LCH. 

Charlie just completed 13 weeks of chemo and we were given the ok to go to maintenance which is chemo every 3 weeks, with a daily chemo pill added. About this same time, we made the decision to resign from our church.  Transitions are usually bittersweet, as is this one.

Needless to say, we have a lot of major life changes going on! So, when we pulled in to the resort Thursday night, we were hoping for a few days of a change of scenery, maybe meet some new people, and let our girls just have fun. We did not expect to be greeted by a sweet teenager with a smile, whose first words to us were “Are you the McCoy’s? YAY, the McCoy’s are here!” I thought I recognized her, and then realized it was from a video in which she had talked about how much Blue Skies had meant to their family as her 3 year old sister fights cancer.  She was at this retreat as a volunteer. That was my first clue as to the heart behind this ministry.

We were soon introduced to our host family. I didn’t even know we would have a host family! Jennifer and her precious daughter Waverly showed us to our beautiful “room”.  It reminded me of a penthouse apartment. There were several people that just appeared from everywhere, helping to unload the van, get us settled, blow up mattresses, give us welcome gifts, hand us a gift card to Piggly Wiggly for breakfast food, offer to go the store for us, etc. I was told that our laundry would be done each day, and they would clean up for us. Ok, so I was getting a little choked up by now.  Ummm…wow.

The next morning, we made our way down to the beach for morning devotions that had already started. I saw another familiar face, a smile, and a wave, as Dixie motioned for us to sit on her blanket.  Dixie is mom to precious Bayleigh, who is still in treatment. Dixie was at this retreat to serve. Wow again, and more tears. There were already people getting up to go run after the girls so we could sit and just breath. Listen. Breath. Relax. Bask in the peacefulness of the sound of the ocean, God’s word, and His presence.

After that, a bunch of other kind souls took our girls for the rest of the morning, to play in the pool and playground while we went to our first Kindred Journeys. What a perfect name for this group. While the 11 other families there all have different stories from each other, we all have a common bond of facing childhood cancer or life threatening illness. We heard the painful stories of diagnosis, the shock, the loneliness, the treatments, the chemo, the isolation, the relapse, the weariness, the faith, the loss of faith, the fight, the resilience, and most of all the perspective of what is really important in life.

We shared stories, our hearts, and tears, and were led by Pastor Brad and his wife Amanda who also had been in the seat that we all sat in that morning. By the time our session was over, and it was time to head to lunch, I had already begun to relax. Jennifer had told me that while we went to lunch , she would bring our girls up to the room and put them down for a nap. Ok, now I am thinking….. how I can get her to come home with us???!!

After a wonderful seafood lunch waterfront, we made our way back to walk into a clean condo, humming from the dryer, and our babies all asleep on the bed. We were told on the way back that our host family is known as “The Baby Whisperers”. Indeed!!

We ended the day with steak dinners by the pool, games, and chocolate shakes, and thoughtful little gifts and notes left in our room for the girls, by our host family. Sigh…..

The next 2 days were just as amazing. We felt like we were and instant family with the other guests and volunteers.

We learned that it’s ok to cry in front of 20 other adults. It’s ok to say what we really want to say but have been storing away in our heart…some for months, some for years. It’s ok to let our kids run wild in the rain.

We learned that “God has your back, even when you don’t feel Him.” We learned that one of the most beautiful things is when a girl who has lost her sight to a brain tumor stands and dances without abandon to the crowd singing “I’ll Fly Away”. 

We learned to not say goodbye, but instead “see you later”. To all those who made it possible for our family to be on the receiving end of this retreat, we cannot thank you enough. Charlie is doing great, and her, Dakota and Addison had a ball! Our hearts are so full.  You were the hands and feet of Jesus. To our new friends, moms, dads, sisters, brothers, on this journey with us, you are in our thoughts and prayers!

To all of the brave kids that are still in this fight, you are our heroes. We loved laughing with you, hugging you, walking on the beach and getting to know you. You are loved by so many people. Nothin’ but blue skies from now on, sweet ones……:-)

 About 3 weeks ago, my sister-in-law Anna, from Arizona came to stay for a few days. It was so nice to have her around. She went with me to Children’s for Charlie’s chemo treatment. I was reminded of my first few times in Clinic 8. Some days your eyes immediately fill with pain and tears as you wait. Sometimes it just physically hurts your heart. This was one of those days.

Charlie was the brave little princess as usual. She barely flinched when they accessed her port. Her counts were good, so she had her Vinblastine and we were on our way.

I spoke with Dr. Watts about us moving and found out that the process of changing hospitals was MUCH easier than I had thought. I smiled inside as I scolded myself once again. Why do I worry so much about things when 99.9% of the time it proves to be unwarranted? He then said that we were free to take a little extension and come back in 5 weeks instead of 3. This is allowing us to enjoy some much needed rest and rejuvenation with family.

Everett flew to India a few days ago. Yes, India…not Indiana. This is his 18th trip and I am so glad he had the opportunity to go. God has a way of working things out just in time. In HIS time. I am spending time with my brother and his family in Northern Virginia while Everett is away. It’s been so nice to be with family and old friends from when we lived here. It just so happened the church we used to attend here was having a women’s conference called Quench this week. The theme was “It’s Time To Dance”. It was basically about dancing in the midst of trials and storms of life. So very fitting for what we have been through as of late.

They asked if I would tell Charlie’s story and then sing. I was so grateful to have the opportunity to share about her journey with LCH. I found myself talking more about what we have dealt with and how we get through, than actually explaining the disease itself. I think for those of you who have a child who fights each day against cancer and life threatening illness, or perhaps it is you that is in the fight of your life, “dealing” with it is the hardest part.

I read posts daily from people who have lost hope, are angry at the disease, and just wish they had the old “normal” back. A song that has been a favorite for years is This Too Shall Pass by Yolanda Adams. During the early days of Charlie’s diagnosis, I listened to it over and over to flood my mind with fact when my emotions wanted to run wild with all of the “what it’s?”.  Today, I sang that song after sharing her journey so far.

Afterwards, several people talked with me about what they were going through, and Charlie’s story had encouraged them…given them hope.

Charlie baby, thank you for being to trusting in the Arms of your Heavenly Father, and showing the world what faith is. You lifted the load of people whom you may never meet. One day you will tell your story. I have a feeling God has incredible things in your future. You planted seeds of hope today in hearts watered with tears. God is amazing…never forget that! As mama was telling your story upstairs, you were placing your tiny hand on a paper that had one of your life scriptures on it. “I will praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made”. Psalm 139:14

To anyone reading this who feels like giving up, or thinks the situation you are in will never end, or there is no solution, please remember. YOU are fearfully and wonderfully made. The same God you made you, will sustain you.

Tonight as I sit here thinking of the past few years, I am reminded of a favorite quote.  “Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.” Dr. Seuss

In just a few weeks, we will load up the last box, glance around the house a last time, pull out of our driveway with Veggie Tales playing instead of Jazz, and head off into our future.

As I listen to the rain softly falling, it just reminded me of our early days here. The first weekend we came to visit, it rained. (I LOVE rain!) A few weeks later, driving around looking for apartments…it rained. The first day we looked at our house together, it was raining. I remember thinking God was giving me rain on special days just because He knew how much I liked it.

I remember pulling into town after driving from Arizona with just a U-Haul trailer behind us. It was a chilly January night, and we backed down into a steep (for this northern girl) driveway, and were warmly welcomed into the house of two people we had barely known. I remember being introduced to cornbread without sugar, Full Moon BBQ, O’Carr’s, “meat and three’s”, and Milo’s…the sweetest tea ever!

I remember having casual Sunday afternoon dinners with friends that would last for hours. I remember sitting in Friday night traffic headed out on 280 to have fajitas at Superior Grill.

 I remember at my job interview, the whole staff met me in the conference room and all went around and introduced themselves. Then I had to tell a bit about myself, but was not prepared for their next question:  ”So, are you for Alabama or Auburn”?  I ended up saying that I would be for whoever bought me a sweatshirt first.  Roll Tide!!

I remember hearing about how beautiful the Alabama and Florida panhandle beaches were. Nothing could have prepared me for Rosemary Beach. I have no desire for Cancun, Hawaii, or anywhere else….Rosemary Beach is the “happy place” I go to in my mind, even though I almost ruined a half gallon of perfectly smooth frozen vanilla yogurt one night! (Long story!)

I remember the hearing “Sweet Home Alabama” sung at women’s conference, and watched in amazement as the group of 10,000 women almost had revival right there in the BJCC!  The band had laughed and said afterwards that if they knew this is what it would have taken to get all the women to their feet, they would have sang it earlier in the worship service!

I remember being delighted at the new people that started to come to church. Our church family was growing. I remember crying with a mom who had to lay her little newborn baby girl to rest. I remember Everett delivering one of the best eulogy’s I have ever heard at her memorial service.

I remember making the decision to quit work so that we could pursue our lifelong dream of becoming foster and/or adoptive parents. I remember my heart pounding when I received the first call that a baby needed a  temporary home. I remember taking her back to her mom after a week, and walking out with my arms empty, but my heart so full.

I remember the hugs from new friends. I remember using text messaging for the first time. I remember running my first 5K. I remember watching my dear friend say goodbye to her beloved. I remember sobbing into my pillow  and talking to God that night.

I remember sitting in Panera at Patton Creek and getting a call about a 5 month old baby named Dakota. I remember falling in love with her from the moment she looked at me with those beautiful brown eyes. I remember 6 weeks later, getting another call about a newborn baby girl…just 3 days old…I remember telling the social worker yes, and precious Addison won our hearts! And then another 7 months down the road, I remember sweet Charlie being placed in my arms at 2 weeks old. I remember thinking….wow….it may be months before I sleep through the night again!!!!!!

I remember God sending people into my life that would drop their plans and schedule to step in and help out with the other babies when Addison was hospitalized for RSV. I remember making it through RSV and getting released to go home, only to have her fall out of the hospital crib, right onto her head! Thankfully, she was just fine, although I needed to be sedated at that point.

I remember missing my family so much I would cry myself to sleep. I would long for just a trip to Wal-mart with my Mom. I remember how glad I was to discover Facebook and be able to send pictures, and communicate at a new level with family and friends. I remember loading up all 3 babies and driving…yes driving, all the way to Arizona to spend our first Christmas in five years with family.

I remember a couple of months later, at a follow-up appointment while feeding Charlie apple juice and cheez-its, I heard the initials ‘LCH” for the first time. I remember texting my husband and numbly pushing her stroller to the next clinic down the hall to meet with the head of oncology. I remember words like chemo, biopsy, bone marrow aspirate, rare, port, relapse. I remember crying while walking out of the hospital. I remember holding her really tight before I put her back in her carseat for the drive home.

I remember our church family who came together for us in prayer. I remember meeting some of the kindest, most generous hearts that were also connected with childhood cancer and disease. I remember rejoicing although she was hospitalized again, that after 6 weeks, her new scans looked much better!

I remember a few weeks ago knowing in my heart that it was time to close a chapter of our lives here. I remember the feeling that was so bittersweet. There are some sweet souls who have sustained me. I will miss your gentle nature, your giving hearts, your selflessness, our coffee time, Mocha Frappes, prayer time, breakfasts, Bo-berry biscuits, Edgar’s cupcakes, and lunches. My girls will miss your hugs. I will miss your friendship. I will miss worshipping with you each week.

As I sit here and the house is so quiet…just the falling rain and some classical music, I can’t help but think that God gave me this night too that will be one of those times that “I remember…”. I have so much to be thankful for, so much to keep as a remembrance in my heart. I have so much to tell my girls as they grow up about this beautiful place of hills, tall pine trees, rivers, red dirt, and crape myrtles. This place we now call home. This place where we became a family of five.  This place that has some of the kindest people I know. This place that I will always remember…..and will “smile because it happened”.

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!

I am not sure why, but when I signed up for band in the 7th grade, I ended up playing the oboe. I cant say I ever truly enjoyed it. I was too busy looking at the alto saxaphone and the drums.  Thats what I really wanted to play. But, each week I walked in, took my seat, pulled my unassuming instrument from its case, warmed up, and played my part.

In this symphony we call life, many times we dont just want to play drums instead of a french horn. The problem most of us have is we suddenly want to be the conductor! We dont play our notes…we start waving sticks in the air,  directing others and soon it sounds like the warm up  of my 7th grade band class. Ouch!  

I was listening to some classical music tonight, and this got me thinking. Just as all of the various instruments blend together to make the most beautiful sounds to fall on the heart of a weary soul, so it is with  us. God is our Chief Conductor. He has the score. He has penned it. His hands are leading each and every one of us to ultimately create a most perfect piece to His ear.

Due to some recent events in our lives, I have come to a renewed conclusion. I dont want to orchestrate my life. I dare not even try. It doesnt work when I do it. It’s like nails on a chalkboard to God and everyone around me. I want Him to direct me. 

If I did what I wanted, it wouldnt be a pretty sight or sound! I want to pound on the drums to let the enemy know that I am ready for whatever comes. I want to blow trumpets, saxaphones and a big old tuba in the face of fear!

But today, the Conductor says I am to pick up the oboe, and play. Ever so softly, I will play.  As I close my eyes, I can almost hear the notes from an old hymn. It is well… It is well with my soul…What a sweet sound. The sound of peace and contenment.

And who knows? Maybe tomorrow He will tell me it’s my turn on the drums!

Have you ever had one of those days where you have so much to do, that you don’t know where to begin? For some, that can result in a spontaneous shopping trip, or worse, just staring at the TV in a zombie like state, with one hand in a bag of Doritos and another in the Oreo’s bag.

That’s kind of how my brain feels right now! It seems there are a lot of heavy, serious, life-issue things that are weighing on it now, and I am too tired to think.  So… I am going to grab a cupcake, a cup of coffee, and share with you all about some recent events that just make me laugh.

Since we first got our girls, let me just say that something as simple as going to the store has completely changed for me! I used to go to Target, get my Iced Coffee, and stroll through, browsing, with occasional eye contact, but rarely any conversation.  Ok, now my trip to the store, is first of all, making sure the store has a 3 -seater cart. Park close to the cart return. Find six shoes, socks a hair bow or two, put them back on my little angels, load them up in my monster cart, and off we go.

Walking through the doors, and bam, we are usually approached within the first 20 seconds. Well, partly it’s because Dakota is waving “Hi Morning!!”, or Charlie is yelling “Hi”, or Addison is just doing the Miss America wave at everyone! Who taught them this? Don’t they know their mama is quiet by nature, a bit of a loner?? Girls, shhhhhhhh…..

No, I really don’t say that. I smile and answer all the questions that big people give to little people but really intending for big people to answer! You know the kind. (Looking at Charlie Grace)…”Well, hi there, cutie. What’s your name? How old are you?”  And so…I answer and thus begins one of my many conversations while at my local superstore.

As you can probably imagine, these simple little interactions have led to some interesting questions, and paths of conversation.  I decided to put together a few of real, honest to goodness comments that I have heard. Hope you enjoy….

Disclaimer: If anyone sincerely asks me questions regarding adoption, fostering, infertility, etc…I am more than happy to talk about it. I love it, actually! These are just some highlights that have made me chuckle.

Comments in the Aisles of Target, Wal-Mart and other establishments with 3 seated carts!

(comments in italics are what I would have liked to say…..)

1. “They are so cute! Do you have any children of your own?” No, I don’t have any biological children. (Ummm, you are looking at them! I bathed them, changed their diapers, I feed them 3 meals a day, stay up all night when they are sick, they call us mommy and daddy, and from the looks of our bank account, they are ours!!)
2. “That one (referring to Addison) looks like she could be yours!” oh yeah….. (REALLY???? You think so???? Most people say that the other 2 do. You should have seen my baby pictures…spitting image of Dakota!!!)
3. “Wowwww….they are all 7 months apart? You have your hands full. (pause) So, did you plan to have them so close together? Oh no, they are all adopted! (Yes, it was very careful planning. We mangaged to do 3 back to back pregnancies in which we coordinated for each baby to be born at 30 weeks.  Don’t I look great!!!??????)
4. “Ohhhhh, they are adopted. So, were you and your husband unable to have children?” yes, but we always wanted to foster and adopt. (Are you, a perfect stranger asking my about infertility issues as I am standing here in the produce section of Wal-Mart??? And NO, we were not unable to have children, since we have 3 that are presently trying to climb out of this cart as we speak.)
5. “Oh, they are adorable! Are they triplets?” Silence on my part, along with a stare…then noooo. (I have no alternative as to what I would have said as this one still leaves me baffled!)
6. My favorite was when my friend had my oldest girl Dakota at Wal-Mart with her one day. A lady stops her and asks the usual about Dakota, and then says “So, is your husband black? My friend replied with a quick-wit that I wish I had “NO!! He’s white! We are still in shock!”

Hope you all have a wonderful day, and if you see a frazzled Swedish, German, Irish, French, American Indian girl with a northern accent and 3 of the most beautiful children on God’s green earth all together at your nearest Target or Walmart, come on over and say hello!!

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.

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.