Year End Dividend

2008 has been a year of economic failure. This morning Bloomberg Television announced that the world stock markets have lost $300 trillion. I went online and saw an article about how much various billionaires have lost this year. Certainly, the concept of "loss" has colored some of the pages of this blog. In 2008 I "lost" Nancy.

But a story resurfaced as I thought of how to close the books on this year. One night after we moved to Keystone Hospice the family gathered around her in her room. Anne's mom Karen put in a worship CD.

Soon we came to the song, "Give Me, Jesus." I held her close as we joined in on the last verse:

"And When I come to die,

And When I come to die,

And When I come to die,

Give me Jesus.

You can have all this world

Give me Jesus"

That night we were echoing the song she first began singing on Easter Sunday 1971 when she gave her life to Christ. We just repeated the words she could no longer speak for herself. Only a few days later, she lost her hold on this life and gained all of Jesus. In that moment she experienced the reality of Philippians 1:20, "for me to live is Christ and to die is gain."

When you hear reviews of the winners and losers of 2008 count Nancy one of the big winners. She now knows what the rest of us labor to believe. And lest you wonder how I tally up my own ledger, the 33 years she invested in me left me a wealthy man.

And thus ends the journey for 2008

Biblical Popularity

I seem to remember high school had a clear pecking order. At the top were the cool people: athletes, cheer leaders, people with hot cars, or fake id's, then there was everyone who aspired to be with the cool people, and at the bottom were outcasts, folks that nobody seem to want to hang with. At all costs you wanted to avoid being with the people who were not smart enough, pretty enough or clean enough to stay out of the social cellar. Instead, a huge part high life was about finding a way to get close enough to the cool people to be considered "popular." That is where you expected to find meaningful community.

Not so in the Community of the King. This past year I watched a Kingdom Village surround us in our weakness. So many calls, meals and prayers came our way once Nancy was diagnosed, as chemo dragged on, and as we learned that the journey would be short. Dozens of folks whom she had never met, or barely knew came to this blog to share her journey home. Old friends and family came for long delayed visits. Friendships that had cooled were reawakened. Family relationships that were strained were strengthened. She had devoted her life to making HIM famous, and she would have given her life to repair some of the breaches we saw healed this year. In a real sense, she did. The gift of her weakness created the space for love to flourish.

I discovered more about the nature of love and marriage than I could ever have imagined as her capacity to actively "give back" disappeared. Her final weakness sealed the lessons on love I had been learning from her for 34 years. And I trust HIM to give me the places to impart those lessons to others.

But there is nothing new in this part of the story. Nothing unique. The greatest act of weakness in all of history created the space for all true love. The Cross under girds all real community. The One who set aside all power and authority to surrender to weakness and death has built a community powerful enough to reverse the curse.

I remember Henri Nouwen introduced this concept to me through his writing, but Nancy "the most popular girl I ever knew" lived this before me until she left me four months ago today.

The Company of Heroes

We finished our Christmas week gatherings as Chris and Leah headed out tonight. I am truly thankful for the way the kids moved toward one another this week. Because we chose to stay connected we both helped one another through a challenging time and made some new memories, including this one on Christmas night as we snapped some family pictures.

To paraphrase the concluding lines from "Band of Brothers,"

"I am not a hero,

but Nancy and I parented

a company of heroes."

Happy birthday KJ

KJ was our furlough baby. I remember how disappointed Nancy was when the decision was made for us to come back to the USA after she became pregnant. We had really wanted an "Irish child." Instead she was born in Holy Redeemer Hospital in Huntington Valley December 28, 1985. The delivery took place in a birthing room. I timed Nancy's pains between plays of a bowl game that came through the TV. Very weird. But that was part of the movement away from the sterile birthing environment that characterized the baby boomer births. That quirky beginning ushered in this wonderful creative gal who remains one of the lights of my life.

Tonight the kids and I went to a favorite restaurant to celebrate KJ's 23rd birthday. It was a great evening in which we again chose joy and life over sorrow and sighing. Thus another of the "firsts without Nancy" was marked. The anniversary tour continues this week. Pray for us.

The First Stop on the Anniversary Tour

We always loved the day after Christmas in Ireland. "St. Stephen's Day" was also a holiday there. We took it as a day to rest, really enjoy family and friends with the Christmas rush behind us. Here in America, it's about returning gifts, and checking out the After Christmas sales at the mall.

But last year was neither about resting or shopping, it was about surgery. We had watched the movie "The Nativity" together on Christmas night '07. Nancy liked it because it helped her to focus on Jesus as she awaited her mastectomy. It was a sweet and gentle way to end the Season.

The next morning we were up early heading to Abington Hospital for the day's surgery. That day ended with much hope, much promise. But that optimism didn't last into summer. Instead, today we begin to tick off the first of a series of painful anniversaries. For the next eight months we will face many dates when we will remember the disappointments that marked Nancy's rapid ride HOME.

It seems that "courage" will be needed to keep these impending dates from dragging us down. I wonder how they will look to her as she peers back at days of hope and pain. She sees all this stuff from her "celestial box seat." Thus she must view it as worth the ride. From our vantage point, we can only look ahead trusting HIM that the final destination truly does mean that "the best is yet to be."

Christmas Courage

We don't throw around the word "courage" much in places I frequent. We talk about "faith" more often. But what if we defined "courage" as " faith" in action? Then I would say that there was a lot of courage flowing through the family this last day or so.

How much courage did it take for KJ to undertake the Christmas baking without her mom at her side this year?

How did I find the courage to wake up this morning, put on the coffee, light up the Christmas tree, put on one of my favorite CD's and greet the family with a smile when they came downstairs to face an uncertain day?

How much courage did it take for the girls to organize our traditional brunch, even serving on the good wedding china we reserve for these special days?

How much courage did it take for Josh and Anne, Chris and Leah and KJ to sit and joke and laugh as we opened presents in the same room we had watched Nancy fade only four months before?

How much silent courage was expended organizing the clan for a Christmas family photograph, knowing we were shooting it for the first time without mom/amma right beside me?

How do you describe the brave resolve this family found this day to be there for one another, hang in there, exchanging both laughter and tears? This courage flowed because people petitioned a loving Father to strengthen this little family. Courage was granted as we made this a good Christmas, the Christmas Nancy would want us to have.

She's Missing, but NOT "Missing Out"

I finished the last shopping run about 4:30 this afternoon. KJ pulled the first batch of kolaches out of the oven at 5:30. I finished wrapping the last Christmas present at 6:30. (If you call what I do with paper and scotch tape, "wrapping.") We then attended the Christmas Eve Service up the street. Now we are waiting for Leah's clan to arrive. Nancy is removed from all this hustle and bustle. But as the following poem reminds us she may be missing, but she is not "missing out."

This poem was written by a 13 year old boy who died of a brain tumor that he had battled for four years. He died on December 14, 1997. He gave this to his mom before he died. His name was Ben.

My First Christmas in Heaven

I see the countless Christmas trees around the world below

With tiny lights, like Heaven's stars reflecting on the snow

The sight is so spectacular, please wipe away the tear

For I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year

I hear the many Christmas songs that people hold so dear

But the sounds of music can't compare with the Christmas choir up here

I have no words to tell you the joy their voices bring

For it is beyond description to hear the angels sing

I know how much you miss me, I see the pain inside your heart

But I am not so far away, we really aren't apart

So be happy for me, dear ones, you know I hold you dear

And be glad I'm spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year

I sent you each a special gift from my heavenly home above

I sent you each a memory of my undying love

After all, love is a gift more precious than pure gold
It was always most important in the stories Jesus told

Please love and keep each other as my Father said to do

For I can't count the blessing or love He has for each of you

So have a Merry Christmas and wipe away that tear

Remember, I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year

Why Keep Writing?

The one year anniversary posting provided a good place to consider whether to continue this blog. My years in Ireland taught me to answer a question with a question. Thus, to answer the question do I continue blogging, I asked why am I still writing? And I decided:

1. I write to heal. If I didn't have an outlet my head and heart might explode. This forum allows me to channel some of the thoughts and emotions that surge through me each day.
2. I write to get you to pray. As Ed said the night of Nancy's viewing: "If you keep writing we'll keep praying." You are praying aren't you?
3. I write to break the ice. As today's Grief Share devotional said: "People in grief may avoid their friends and even their church to prevent these awkward moments. This is not how it should be. Someone needs to move beyond the discomfort."
4. I write to help you understand. Chase suggested that some people are called to suffer on a platform, to give others a view of the cosmic struggle of life, to encourage others to press on. With that in mind I share the Grief Share prayer: "May my healing journey spark healing in those around me. Amen.

In light of all this, I will continue to write for now, to mark the trail as DanandNancysjourney continues into a second year.

Two Sighs of Relief

My specialist was encouraging yesterday. He saw the test numbers headed in the right direction, prescribed one more round of antibiotics and told me to come back in February. I am thankful that cancer treatment will not hang over this house for a second straight Christmas.
In the meantime, pray that my numbers go down another notch or so. All this led to one big sigh of relief.

Earlier today I typed in the last of the 21,688 words from the red notebook entitled Nancy's Journey Home. With the contents of the notebook in the computer, I will copy the entries from this blog into a Word document, and then begin to edit. All this will enable me to see the tale that's left to tell, and how to go about telling it. Having thus delivered these "building blocks" to the site, I am breathing a second sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, the kids and I prepare to gather for our first Christmas since Nancy went home. There will be some more sighs, some of them will be sighs of longing for the final Holiday, The Day of HIS return.

First Anniversary Edition of the Blog

Our first posting on this site was one year ago today. We were scared, tentative, unsure what was to follow. The ride we took for the next nine months was full of twists and turns, sadness disappointments, and finally separation.

Still, I found myself thinking last week that God has been faithful. He somehow carried us through a very difficult chapter. I have retraced that steadfast love as I have written the last two days. He is good, but re-entering the story is very draining to say the least.

The year ahead seems unclear and lonely. My preliminary medical reports came back uncertain again tonight. I see the specialist Friday. Right now, I am afraid, and I don't like the prospect of ending the year with a health issue unresolved.

Tonight I can only ask HIM to remain faithful as the next year's journey begins.

First Love, Lasting Love

I will never forget "Joan." She had this spark that captivated me. We laughed together often. We shared many of the hopes and sorrows and struggles of American adolescence. I took her to two Homecoming dances at Rossville High School, including our Senior Year. That year the dance was stopped because the band, the one that Joan had hired, showed up stoned. Good times.

As I look back, I can honestly say that I was "in love" with Joan for a while. That first love was a tender teenage tug of the heart. But then, at some point, I fell out of love with her. Was it the letters I was receiving from the girl I met at yearbook camp? Or the realization that we were not made for each other after all? At any rate, that fragile first love was gone.

I thought of Joan this week as I realized where mourning Nancy was NOT taking me. I came to understand that grieving Nancy's death was not about "getting over her." No, I will not get over Nancy the way I got over Joan.

I will always love Nancy. Grieving the loss of a spouse just puts that love in perspective. The goal of mourning is to lay the foundation for the next chapter. Whatever I face, whoever comes my way, no matter where the journey takes me our love continues. Even though she is no longer at my side, she will always be in my heart.

Anyone Seen Frodo Lately?

Tonight I feel a bit of a kinship with Frodo Baggins. Remember how he had to carry The Ring to the mountains in order to destroy it? I am setting out on a similar quest the next few days. I will try to cast one of the "rings of grief" into a purifying fire.

How will this happen?? I plan to reopen my journals from our fight with cancer over the next few days. My goal will be to transcribe these notes onto my computer. I will work with the notes to see if there is a bigger story to recount than I have thus far shared. This will also help move me a few more steps through the valley of grief. It might result in preparing the story for a wider audience. In other words, I will revisit the question of whether I have a book to write from my journey with Nancy. So, pray for me to listen to Him as I try to move a bit further down the road.

Finally, I will have a test tomorrow to see if my readings will confirm the progress I have observed over the last few weeks. Pray for a lower PSA score and a steady heart.

The Tree is up

This afternoon I made the annual visit to the Roslyn Fire Station to purchase our tree. This evening Josh, Anne, Lucia and Micah joined KJ and me. We worked together to trim the tree and prepare the house to the receive the King. Later, we lit the third Advent Candle and sang a couple of carols as the angels danced on our ceiling.

This was a special bittersweet night. We remembered what we have lost this year, we acknowledge what she gained this year and we wait for what He has to offer us as we await His return.

One Generation Watches Another

This morning I headed over to the office to tie up some loose ends after A&O. I typed up my A&O debriefing notes, and headed down to North Philadelphia for the Ark Christmas party. The Ark is the after school program Josh runs at Vision of Missions Church. I sat in the back and watched him express love to these kids who have been so touched by the falleness of this world. I also gave thanks for the gentle way he loves the forgotten in the way his mother did, and the powerful way that he shares his father's passion for shining the light into dark places.

I am thankful for a fruitful week. God is good.

One Day, Nine Deliveries

If I was outside the delivery room yesterday, today I was back in time to "catch the baby." This morning I spent 4 hours facilitating a series of conference calls between our senior staff and field leaders in Europe and Africa. We offered all nine candidates roles with us. . Pray for them and us as we ponder the future---it was an intense day. A day amazingly ended with the gift of tickets to a luxury suite to watch the Sixers tonight....but that is another story.

Relief and Reproach

Interview day makes me feels like a dad waiting outside of the delivery room while his wife is in labor. After conducting a devotion on Mark 5:1-20---with special emphasis on vs. 19 and 20--I turn the candidates over to our interview teams for the day. I sorta pace around, do emails, make sure we keep on schedule and read preliminary reports. Hopefully by Thursday they will have made it through to appointment and will be in the hands of member care and I will begin focusing my team on the March prospects. But tomorrow morning beginning at 8 I will facilitate conference calls with team leaders as we try to formalize our decisions.

I have enjoyed this week immensely. A&O is the culmination of lots of hard work---a kind of harvest time, as well as a time of intense activity. Not since September '07 have I worked an A&O week without Nancy's illness hanging over us. I have found myself glad to be at this work without that burden---and then I catch myself. In one sense, I am not glad at all. I reproach myself for this odd sense of relief. And then I remember that such ambivalence is another part of this journey---each step brings a new and strange emotion across my path.

Out of the Office and into the Woods

The first day of A&O we continue to get to know one another. A series of presentations in the morning lets our candidates know us better.

In the afternoon we do a couple of group activities. The group managed to eliminate the entire population of Philadelphia by mishandling "Toxic Waste." But then they survived in the Northern Canadian woods in "Plane Crash." So, they batted .500. Seriously, a very good day. I love this stuff.

Dinner and Dreams

Progress in this season often comes from reclaiming my place in activities I love. Our WHM recruiting process climaxes in quarterly events called "A&O Week. Tonight we began the last A&O week of 2008 and the first I have done since Nancy went Home.

There were lingering memories of her as we gathered the candidates for dessert, storytelling and prayer. But there was also healing and hope. Nine people told us of their dreams of participating in our work around the world. More people are joining us on the road. I am reminded that the journey goes on, the path leads forward, and there is hope of reaching the other side of the valley.

No Denying It

I kept hearing that it is imporant to "move past denial" as I travel the valley of grief. For quite some time, that advice made no sense to me. I already knew that Nancy had gone Home. Had I not watched her draw her last breath? Had I not stood by her casket the night of the viewing and greeted friends who came to share our loss? So, what was moving past denial supposed to mean anyway?

Maybe this week I started to get it. I am moving past denial when I stop stuffing the church bulletin in my pocket Sunday morning because she won't want to read it later. I am moving past denial when I get in my car after work and start sobbing each night because she won't be there to greet me when I get home. Moving past denial requires me to sit in the lobby and screw up my courage before joining the office Christmas party alone.

Moving past denial has taken me into a dark part of this valley. But, it is a a place I must visit to get to the other side. This is a place that only His presence can illuminate. I think I can glimpse His Light leading me on.

Practical Petitions

1. Someone is moving into 315 this weekend! Our rental property 2 doors down had been vacant since August 30, so it's nice to have that pressure off. Pray that we will be good neighbors.
2. As I mentioned earlier, projects are piling up around the house. Pray that we can begin to sort through some of this backlog.
3. This is my first "post-Nancy Christmas shopping season." Pray for joy and discernment as I shop for the family.
4. The symptoms that sent me to a specialist a few weeks ago seem to have cleared up through antibiotics. I will take a blood test and see him next week. Pray for the encouraging developments to be confirmed that I have had an infection, not cancer.
5. Our Mobilization team is preparing to host nine new missionary candidates for A&O Week beginning Sunday. Pray for us to care for this crew wisely and warmly.

Opening the Doors to the Season of Hope

Christmas has always been a magical time for me, my favorite time of the year. I remember Christmas programs from grade school, candlelight services at Delia Presbyterian Church and chaotic Christmas mornings of gift opening as a kid. More recently, I remember building that wonder into our growing family, Christmas Eve performances at Glenside, and the special joy I took in shopping for Nancy.

A couple of years ago, Nancy found an awesome Advent calendar. It found pride of place on the mantle each December 1. Each day we opened another door as Christmas approached. Again last year Nancy and I dutifully kept the vigil going, even as the spectre of cancer loomed over our celebration. We opened the doors, and read the passages laid out in an Advent guide published by New Life Church.
This year I also refuse to let go of the wonder. We will open the doors each day. We will remind ourselves that He came once before to reverse the curse. He will return once again to restore all things.

goodbye & hello

Saturday night was special. KJ and I were invited to a dinner party hosted by Talitha Brauer. She and her family were old teammates and friends from our years in Ireland. Talitha has done internships with us, and then lived in the Philly area since college. In fact, she, Leah and Monica lived just two doors down from us during a fun and wacky year.

Lynn and TK remembering the Story

Now TK is headed to Prague to work with our ministry there. She is one of a growing number of second generation WHM--ers. To celebrate, she gathered a few of us together for a preliminary farewell to Philly night. There was plenty of good food, laughter and classic Talitha stories as we sat around the table that night.

Once again the Grand Cause is provoking a round of tearful farewells. They never get easier as Lynn L noted that night. But these are partings with purpose. He calls to "let goods and kindred go" that we might introduce others to the One we follow. So, truly Saturday was about saying goodbye to TK with the hope that someday we might say hello to others who have joined her --and us on the journey that leads safely home.

To the King and His Cause!

A Season on the Brink

Nancy left me three months ago today. A season has passed without her. Here are a few contradictions, and conclusions as I review the season just past.

I am even gladder that we helped her to end her journey well, but sadder she is not walking beside me still.

Perhaps I most miss being with her without having to be “on” for her. Can I ever find other places “not to be on?”

I miss having a companion in silence. Where and how do you replace that companion and friend?

I am still learning things about her. Why does that surprise me? Perspective brings insight, I suppose.

I often hate being alone, I frequently come apart in groups.

I want to be with friends who can help me remember and mourn, I sometimes want to be with people who never knew me as one half of "Dan and Nancy."

People say that they want to help, I don’t know how to tell them to help

I have noticed that being invited over meals feels good, having someone come over---bringing a meal along---feels even better.

The sound of a loving voice is far more encouraging than the sight of an email or Facebook message.

I am becoming more productive, but I have more days when I just want to stay in bed.

I don’t want to get stuck in the middle of grief; the end of the road through this valley is not yet in sight.

I know God didn’t take Nancy home “so that” I would grow closer to Him, but I must grow closer to Him to heal the wound of her passing.

I want time to pass so that it will bring healing, I want time to end and cease the need for healing.

A Fulton Thanksgiving

It was good to come to Fulton. The long drive on Thursday morning gave me time and space to weep, to pray, to give thanks. Jonah found a spot on my lap shortly after I got there. That felt good. Chris's family welcomed me to their dinner table. The fire was warm, the food good.

We have also done some early Christmas shopping and talked about what Christmas Day can look like this year. Leah and I have also had some special time together to grieve. We process things in much the same way so, this was also good stuff.It all felt so different. Far removed from last year's "Fried Turkey Thanksgiving." And that felt safe.

This morning I awoke thanking him that every Thanksgiving from 1974 through 2007 included Nancy. This one did, too; she just ate at a different table. Still, I missed her at mine.

Fried Turkey Thanksgiving

November 22, 2007 dawned sunny and unusually warm. Shirtsleeve weather. After our traditional Thanksgiving sharing time at New Life Church we headed home to prepare the feast. I had lobbied for years before we were finally ready to take a dangerous step---we were going to fry the turkey. (Earlier I had purchased the necessary fryer and peanut oil.) It was a perfect day to fire that cooker up in the back yard. Chris and I stood watch over the proceedings throughout, keeping the hot cooking oil and the little kids away from one another. At the appropriate time, Nancy came out to pronounce the bird ready for carving. Then we sat down to the best turkey dinner ever surrounded by most of our family. It was also the last holiday we were to enjoy before cancer completely engulfed us.

When I study these pictures, I see a woman who had come into our own. Gone was the shy scared little girl who faced terrible attention on many holidays. She had been rescued. She had been transformed. The fear had receded, replaced by the freedom to dye her hair brilliant red, and to take a chance on a new way of preparing the Thanksgiving turkey. I see a woman whose journey was almost complete, save one last round of suffering and liberation.

I will always treasure the memory of our “fried turkey Thanksgiving.” I hang on to Thanksgiving 2007, even as the kids and I face Thanksgiving 2008 without the woman who always made a holiday sunny and warm.

Thanks Team!

After Tuesday prayer the WHM staff gathered for a Thanksgiving lunch. It was a time to affirm our common bond, and thank HIM for his blessings to us as a mission. It is wonderful to share the advancement of the Grand Cause with good friends.

As I walk through this season of celebration and sadness, I am thankful to be among folks who know me, and help me to keep moving ahead. They remain at my side as I swing through the highs and lows of this strange path.

Redefining the Holidays

And now we are entering a treacherous part of the journey. Thursday will bring the first major holiday since Nancy went home. During the next few weeks we will be working at redefining the meaning of the word "holiday," even as the word "family" is reconfigured. We are trying to give new meanings to both those words, without the visible presence of the woman whose hospitality and warmth gave so much content to both terms.

Pray for us to keep moving toward one another, support one another and love one another, even as life itself is redefined.

Gala Opening

New Life's Cloakroom Gallery opened last night

with an exhibition of Nancy's watercolors.

As I always, I had a few observations to share before the unveiling. I used Hunter's premise that creation flows out of the impulse to bring order to chaos. Nancy's gift for bringing some order to my chaotic self made her the most creative person I will ever know. But more than that, her five most prolific years came as she sorted through her painful childhood. She found a medium for that creative work after our friend Donna invited her to join her at a watercolor class in 1994. Her paintings often reflected the peace she experienced in the presence of the Lord who took her home three months ago.




We are grateful to Ed. He birthed the vision of providing a display area for Christian artists. He skillfully executed that vision. Lastly, a number of friends braved the cold windy Friday night weather to help us celebrate this visual reminder of Nancy's journey.

The exhibition will remain up until after the first of the year. Please feel free to stop by when you are in Glenside!

Continuing to Announce

A couple of weeks ago my friend Sandy reminded me that I am still in the announcement phase. That is, I am still connecting with folks in the wake of Nancy's death, having first conversations with them, even letting folks know. Also, I face ongoing reminders that ING, and the IRS still deal with me as Dan and Nancy. Their computers have yet to absorb the news that she is Home.

While calling some of WHM's financial partners Tuesday night, I had two bittersweet announcement conversations. First, with a former Ireland team mate, we shared joys and sorrows. I was able to tell her that the Dublin neighborhood we ministered to 1983 now has a church in the community center. Together we marveled at how God really had heard our prayers after all.

Next I talked to a couple with whom we have partnered for over 30 years. There were so many wonderful stories to swap. So many reminders of HIS love. They reminded me of a trip Nancy had taken to encourage them when they were serving in Europe. It was so good to recall the good things we had seen The Father do in and through us.

Those calls warmed my heart. But I found myself losing it on the way home. Once more I had announced the change to dear friends. Once more the wound was strangely reopened, even as His faithfulness to us was relived, once more the longing for HOME was re-enforced, once more gospel hope flowed into the sadness we all felt.

What a strange and turbulent ride I encounter through this valley of grief. I am glad I don't walk this valley alone.

A Sudden Sinking Feeling

I often grow impatient with the slow pace of the walk through this valley. I would love to clear this land of grief and sadness. Quickly and Permanently. Instead I find myself sometimes stuck, as if waddling in quick sand. With no warning.

Take tonight. Two good friends were bringing us dinner tonight and staying to eat with us. So, I was looking forward to having the house resonate with laughter and lively conversation again. Before they came I decided to look through the mail. Foolishly I decided to check the letter from Kay's Jewelers, wanting to make sure it was not a new credit card or something. Instead the letter contained coupons for the upcoming season's sales. And I was stuck again. Reliving the memories of the Journey Deepens necklace that I gave her at Christmas. I was angry at myself for inviting this emotion right before my friends arrived. I delivered a stern rebuke to ME for being so foolish. And pulled my boots out of the quicksand, to eat Mexican food and welcome Tanna the dog into Teddie's liar. Another day wading through hidden swamps of the valley of grief. Part of the journey. Part of paying the cost of love forward.

I was struck by Kathryn's comment about my health. "Our bodies often grieve the loss of someone we love." Very perceptive. The following link documents her intuition: http://www.medicinenet.com/guide.asp?s=ef&k=medicinenet.com&a=52318

Pay It Forward

I am still trying to find road signs to get through this long, dark valley. This week I signed up for daily emails from Griefshare.

Day One reminded me that: Grief is the cost of loving someone. Love always comes with a cost. The Father's love to us comes with the cost of HIS son. His grief darkened the heavens before it rolled back the stone.

So, it cost the Father a great deal to empower Nancy to love me. The price of that love is now"paid forward" through my gratitude to HIM for our years together and my willingness to move toward others in sorrow. Right now, I live a life absent of smiles, hugs and prayers with my best friend. But I pay that cost willingly these days. The love HE gave me through Nancy has left me a wealthy man.

Join us in Glenside on Nov 21

New Life Glenside is opening a small art gallery in our building this fall. We were honored to learn that Nancy will be the first artist to be displayed in the new Cloarkroom Gallery. Please join us at New Life; Jenkintown and Easton Road; Glenside at 7pm Friday Nov 21 for a another example of how the Nancy's life continues to spread out in ever expanding circles.

The Circle Widens

How little I understand the ways of the King. Last night several friends and I attended a function at St. Charles Seminary in Philadelphia. We listened as Father Dennis Billy dedicated his newest book to Al Groves. In front of an audience made up mainly of Catholic clergy Farther Billy explained how Al had pointed him to Christ years ago at Dartmouth.

Two years after Al died Dennis was telling them that Al expemplified true spiritual friendship. Al's love for people, his gentle demeanor and his rigorous intellectual honesty continue to reach people in unique ways.

Each day is salted with the tears I shed as I miss my best friend. But Nancy's paintings are finding a wider audience these days. And the fresh wound I feel allows me to move toward young parents grieving the loss of their unborn child, or a student mourning the combat death of his big brother. The pain I carry pushes me to others in pain.

Tonight I picture Al and Nancy as two stones thrown into a clear lake. Even now their ripples still disturb the surface, spreading his love in ever widening circles.

Why does this surprise me? In the garden of the King, a seed must fall to the ground and die to produce a crop. The seeds germinated through Al and Nancy will continue to yield harvests for many seasons to come.

My Housemate

KJ has been my closest companion over the last three months. As housemates we have tried to help one another through shopping, cooking, cleaning and pet care responsibilities. But we share something deeper and more important. Together we experience grief, sharing, sorrow, and loneliness. It must be hard to share a silent empty house with a sad dad. But she continues to press on as she follows a unique path through this wide valley. Lift her up to Her Heavenly Dad who can remove the weight of sorrow from his kids' shoulders.

Three of KJ's bags made for sale at Elcy's coffee shop were snapped up by discriminating customers yesterday. Get one while they last!

piling up, looking up

I started this week tired from the weekend. But as I told KJ it is good to feel tired from work rather than wrung out from grieving. Nevertheless, "fatigue makes cowards of us all" according to Vince Lombardi. No big surprise that I feel a dearth of courageous faith.

It's dawning on me that even in the new normal of this valley, I simply have more to do than I did in October 2007. Things have a way of piling up around the house, the pantry eventually empties out, etc. Meanwhile, the rental property that we own two doors up the street has been empty since the day Nancy died and we still need tenants. The major projects that were put on hold when she got sick shout loud reminders of our entrance into the valley of death and grieving. And the uncertain nature of my health forces me to lean tentatively into the future.

I would ask for prayer on how to navigate the complaints of the last paragraph with faith and joy. Today's compass reading came from Psalm 123:2

"As the eyes of the slaves look toward the master, as the eyes of a maid look to the the hands of her mistress so our eyes look to the LORD our God, till he shows us his mercy"

Ask HIM to adjust my eye levels that I might look past the piles of unmet tasks, to the One who promises mercies for the valley.

Weekend Wanderings

I drove back from yesterday after meeting a couple of guys in Starbuck's. I spent part of the four hour drive from Harrisonburg listening to the music of Les Mes. The stirring music and the story of redemption, healing and reconciliation has always moved me, but this was the first time I had dared to revisit it since Nancy came home.

The inspiration that I always felt to love my wounded partner was replaced by the tearful realization that we have moved further into the story. There is sweetness in knowing Nancy has escaped the loneliness and exploitation of this place. There is bitterness in knowing that our time together seemed brief and incomplete. I long for to be in that final act, "where chains will never bind me." But I realize that the timing of that last song is up to HIM.

This morning I team taught a missions course with my boss Carolyn. I gave the the perspective from the Great Plains. She expressed insights from North of the Border. Thus, we provided a rich and diverse perspective on the history and vision of WHM. Seriously, I think we worked well together.

Then I jumped in the car and headed to Bridge Church to hear our Josh preach on "Living in the Light of Heaven." It must have stretched him to visit this topic as he tries to make sense of the departure of his mom. But his transparency was winsome, and his insights were deep.

The evening included pizza with friends from church and an exhibition of a good friend's photography. KJ had helped Linda hang her vivid presentation of "The Color of Poverty" around the world.

Memories of the past weave with the activities of the present to suggest the shape of the future. And so goes another weekend's walk through this valley.

We "tag teamed" the talk

As always happens before a major event. There were challenges to overcome. I awoke to a return of the troubling symptoms. Fortunately, Nancy and I had walked through many such distractions on our way to vineyards. So, we walked to the edge of this pool and dove in.

I am exhausted. Spent. Vulnerable. But it is good to have emptied myself for HIM this day.

Tonight Nancy and I spoke in front of 300 college students. I meant that. Nancy and I spoke because 34 years ago she courageously told me that "God is the Center of my life" on our first date. As Josh said, "she spent 34 years discipling Dad." Nancy and I spoke because this lady who never craved the limelight prayed me through every one of my talks. Nancy and I spoke because our story of HIS faithfulness through the end was part of my exhortation to the students to plunge headlong into the Rivers of God's blessing.

So, what was the impact? I could share a couple of anecdotes, but the fruit of any talk is not really harvested for decades. All in I know is that I gave it everything I had tonight. How could I do less? After all, I was speaking for two! She shaped the words, I just spoke 'em.

A couple more steps along the valley road

We have had a few glimpses of life in the Land of the New Normal the past few days.

KJ finished a number of bags that are now on display at Elcy's. (Not too early for Christmas shopping.) If you are in the area stop by and shop!!!

My external symptoms seem to be responding to the antibiotics. So, I am hopeful about an upturn in my health.

I am on my way to James Madison University to speak at a Friday evening gathering of Inter Varsity students. This will be my first speaking trip since Nancy has gone home. It will be good to talk about the One who leads us into ever deeper into the waters that give us life as I walk the students through Ezekiel 47.....Ask HIM to show up and rescue them from the stall waters of apathy.

What About Dan?

In the spring of 2006 HE laid a very strange request on my heart. I began to ask God to give me the privilege of caring for my wife when she died. I had in mind that I would be there to care for her when her health failed in old age. HIS timetable was different. Little more than two years later Nancy went Home while I sat beside her. It was the saddest, richest and most fulfilling ministry that I have ever undertaken in HIS Name. I will always regard that chapter as a gift that spared Nancy the trauma of suffering alone.

But now I live with the aftermath of that ministry. The sense of loneliness made the last weeks feel like a trek on the Dark Side of the Moon. A few days ago I admitted that I have been facing a deep crisis of faith. God gave me grace to do many hard things once Nancy was sick and dying. The moments I felt like running, HE gave me the resolve to stay connected and caring. The numerous heartbreaking tasks that go with burying a mate were, by his grace completed. And the kids and I tearfully rejoiced that we had loved her HOME.

But my faith faltered over the question, "Who would take care of me as I age?" "How can I face a future illness without Nancy at my side?" The fear behind those questions reflected stark unbelief. I refused to believe that HE who empowered me to love Nancy through the valley would make provision for the inevitable crisis moments to come. You see how wicked such terror is?? The faith check is simple. Was I trusting God, or Nancy all these years? Do I trust the Father who sustained His Son when the apostles were scattered that terrible night before Jesus trial and execution?

But God makes provision for our frail hearts. This past week HE has put his arms around me in the form of friends who promised to help care for me if I got sick, to a child who said, "We promised Mom we would look after you," through co-workers who continue to forebear with me through dark moments or fellow elders who have breakfast with me and gaze into my soul.
And through His Word which reminds me that "HE chose us in Him before the foundation of the world." In the midst of this dark week, the words and tune of a contemporary Christian song somehow took root in my heart, and I find myself softly singing "God is good, all the time."

Because HE is my Rock and my Friend, I weathered that crisis of faith. Because HE is faithful, He will bring me through the next and the next, until HE brings ME Home.

The View from Ground Zero

Those cleaning up after 9-11 faced a huge task. They couldn't’t just realign the rubble and reconstruct the Twin Towers. Instead, they could only start cleaning up the debris and build something entirely new. It is still a work in progress.

This weekend I finally understood that I face a similar challenge. Nancy’s death removed the wonderful structure of our marriage. I can’t just rearrange a few details of life and go back to business as usual. No, every aspect of my life, from the way I relate to God, other people, spend my evenings, and organize the bedroom has been forever changed. It is a season to build something new.

Somehow this realization has helped. It has allowed me to “frame” this season, to make sense of it, to define the awesome scope, to admit that building a new structure for life might take years.

Our marriage was a tower of grace, a refuge and a joy. That wonderful dwelling was removed by its Architect this past summer. Now I must ask HIM to hand me the blueprints for a new life. This forces me to stretch out on the goodness of God.
I must rest in his promise that:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
His mercies never come to end.
They are new every morning.
Great is his faithfulness.

Those words were first expressed in Lamentations at a time when the city of Jerusalem was leveled. They are finding fulfillment as the New Jerusalem is still under construction.

the chain of life

I have five “kids” and five “grandkids.” Each bring uniquejoy to my soul. But when I am with Micah, I feel very close to his “Amma.”

That’s no surprise. Nancy spent much of her summer rebound reflecting on the perfect name for our latest grandchild. Just this week, I found that she had “favorited” a web page explaining the meaning of his name on the Internet. Last night I held him for ten minutes. It was like holding a little piece of Nancy. During that time, I tried to pray some of things I most loved about her into his life. I prayed that he would have her gentleness, her compassion, her childlike faith, and her passion for others to know the Master she served. I maintain this mystical conviction that she passed some of those qualities onto him when they laid side-by-side for twenty minutes the day he came home from the hospital, the day she went home to heaven.

Who knows about that? But it has been nine weeks ago today that she left this earth, and I am certain that I still do not want to let her go.

hopeful doctor's report

Dr. Meller thinks that I have an infection. So, he is extending the antibiotic treatment and wants me to see him in December. No guarantees, but this is more optimistic than I expected.

Once again I have to live with uncertainty. Why do I still find this hard? Why do I struggle to believe HE is good ALL the Time?

Pray for these nasty symptoms to abate, pray for healing pray for my faith.

PS-----Today we also give thanks for Lucia! She is 2 today!!! What a wonderful family we have.

Has it been two months, or 2000 years?

After Dad went Home I tried to call my mom on the anniversary of his death to let her know I remembered, that I was praying. On the 2 year anniversary call I remarked, "It doesn't seem like two years."

"Oh yes it does!" came her response.

Nancy went home two months ago today, and I now fully understand what Mom said about how slowly time passes once you lose your mate. It feels like decades since we were frying a turkey together last Thanksgiving, celebrating a Phillies's win, or I was watching her draw her last breath. Each day seems hours old before I make it out the door to work, and some of the evenings pass like weeks.

At the same time, I often wake up expecting to find her next to me, think of things to tell her driving home for work and hope to find her there when I walk in the door. It seems like just yesterday we were texting back and forth about a Friday night date. (I can't bear to delete one of those messages just yet.)

So, the valley of grief is a place where time itself seems distorted. Some moments are fleeting, others never end. But then again, our experience is myopic. Perhaps we actually gain glimpses of HIS perspective as we travel this Valley. After all, Peter reminds us that "with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day." Once again I see how Nancy is leading me to admit how very little I understand about reality after all. I am also certain her perspective on this earthly separation is currently far wiser, far more informed than mine.

Meanwhile, time feels further distorted as I am 24 hours away from seeing the specialist. Pray that I can know HIS presence as I begin the next mile with Dr. Meller FRIDAY OCTOBER 31 @ 11:30 AM, EASTERN TIME.

Reflections from Foggy Bottom

On a foggy night, the low lying areas are the most deeply affected. As I continue my walk in the valley, I feel like I am surrounded by clouds just now. The mist is pretty thick.

My zeal to look ahead is waning, I don' t have my usual interest in peering into the future. Planning beyond today seems pointless, especially as I face the possibility of illness and treatment. This is problematic when my work at WHM involves envisioning people for future ministry.

While eternity is closer with Nancy's departure, heaven still seems beyond my understanding, hidden in the midst. I can't see it's shape or colors; I can only hope that the clouds will be rolled back before I have to travel to that Land myself.

For now, we see in a mirror dimly, but then we will see facee to face.

Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I am fully known.

1 Corinthians 13:12

Down for the Count?

I just exchanged a couple of emails with a friend who is also walking a hard path through the valley of grief. He described his last few years as a boxing match. Each loss feels like another round in the ring. Doug then pointed to 2 Corinthians 4:8, "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed."

Right now, as I grieve the recent past, endure some funky symptoms in the present, and await the next round of doctor's visits in the future, I feel like I am "on the canvas." Pray that He will help me get back on my feet. The contest is not over.

Out of gas, Out of courage

I came home last night to a call from Dr. Cowan informing me that my PSA score had doubled since April. So, today I started a round of antibiotics to combat the possibility of an infection.
Meanwhile, I will see a specialist a week from today. I don't need to tell my middle aged readers that this reading raises the possibility of cancer once again. It will take some time to sort out this latest development. So, I face a month of treatments, tests, and uncertainty.

How am I doing? I feel too dizzy to stand, much less walk. Right now, I like the idea of staying in bed for the next four weeks, only getting up for the required doctor's ppointments. Hopefully, tomorrow I will begin to regain my balance. But right now the tank is empty. Only HE can fill it as I travel the next mile.

drowning the din

Two weeks ago at the WHM leadership retreat Hunter Dockery reminded us the march of the Redeemer in history is the restoration of order to a chaotic universe. The last week or so I have heard the din from my internal chaos , have acted in chaotic fashion, and feel unable to restore order to my soul. Returning to work structures the day, but the chorus of chaos builds after 5pm. That din can drive me in a score of crazy directions better left unmentioned. I miss Nancy's soothing presence in my life and in our house most at night, the time when I am no longer Dan the Missions Mobilizer.

In the last week I have reached out to a couple of wise brothers to help me think through how to bring order to some of this chaos. Meanwhile, KJ and I have enjoyed some very sweet time together as well. But I know that I must learn to listen more intently. For that still, small voice. The One that says, "I am with you always, even to end of the age." Pray the HE blows the wax out of my ears.

Service Download

Yesterday a dear friend asked if there was a recording of Nancy's service. That prompted me to remember that I had not posted the link to an audio file WHM made availible to our mission family.

The link is noted in our Director's email to the mission family. I am sure you will also appreciate Bob's kind words as well as the chance to hear the service for yourself

From Bob Osborne:

Dear World Harvest Family,

I called a WHMer in Africa last week, only to find that she and a teammate had just met up to pray for Nancy Macha. What a sweet picture of fellowship in our mission family. At Nancy’s memorial service, Hunter Dockery (WHM board member and Ireland teammate of the Macha’s) spoke of the koinonia that comes from serving together in God’s Kingdom. He said, “There’s a kind of fellowship that comes from sitting around a pub or café together, but then there’s another kind, the kind that comes from throwing all that you have into a common venture and giving it all you’ve got.” Nancy’s memorial was a powerful testimony to the depth of the bonds that grow as we lay down our lives together for the world’s good and God’s glory.
I know many of you would have loved to have been there, and many were praying from far away. It was a bit of a WHM family reunion for those who could make it: Sending Center staff, WHM adult MKs, the Bartkoviches, Millers, Elwoods, Smallmans, Dockerys, Anguses, and other friends and family from early WHM and New Life Glenside days. Hunter gave a great message, full of the Gospel, and a picture of how God moved in Nancy’s life from their time in Ireland to now. Since you all have been following their journey through the blog, we thought it would be important to send the audio recording of the service, including Josh Macha’s tribute to Nancy. You can download the audio file at: http://www.mediafire.com/?9zau6msgil1

what IS she thinking?

Nancy spent much of the last 34 years looking out for me. Only this past year did our roles begin to reverse. Still each piece of bad news, from initial diagnosis to decision to stop chemo, prompted an “I’m sorry this is going to be hard for you.” No amount of assurance from me completely calmed her fears.

A couple of my recent meltdowns prompted me to wonder if I was letting her down. Perhaps I was causing her to worry. This troubled me.

I haven’t dusted off any systematic theology. But I did start thinking about how Hebrews 12 reminds us of the great cloud of witnesses that have gone before us. That helped.

Nancy has a seat in that stadium of heavenly spectators now. A luxury box, I suspect. And I began to picture her not downcast, but confident. It is as if I could hear her, say: “Come on, Rocky. You can make it. Sure you are stumbling, and you can’t manage to take care of yourself yet, but you can make it. I made it, and it’s worth it!”

I am sure she and many others who have finished the race are looking back cheering us across the tape. That image helps me face the day’s walk through the valley, even when I feel dry and empty, even when I stumble.

Ask HIM to remind me that the race is worth running even when the journey overwhelms me for a time.

permission to laugh

Nancy and I had our own language of laughter: pet names, running gags,and imaginary characters created a private world of joy that Nancy and I developed over our years together. Much of that became lost as the summer ended. And I don’t want recapture the pet names and stories just now---or probably ever.

But nothing gladdens my heart like laughing and making others smile. Returning to healthy living means teasing, exaggerating and acting generally like a “wild and crazy guy” from time to time. Humor is one straw HE gives me to drink from those springs found in Psalm 84.

I am thankful for the community of joy that I have at the WHM office. Today my longstanding support of Title IX and other progressive causes became an object of merriment even as we continued advancing the Grand Cause together. My coworkers have allowed me to shake free of sadness for long stretches each day. Slowly, I am reclaiming permission to laugh. These dear brothers and sisters help me believe that HE is going to sustain me through this valley.

A snapshot of His Purposes

When Nancy and I came back from Ireland in 1985 we had tasted defeat. Our first attempt at pulling together a faith community had ended in failure. We needed reinforcements. That led us to ask Hunter and Julie Dockery to join us...and to lead the newly rebuilt team.

We spent several years in Dublin together, learning to work together, learning to pray together, learning to love one another. To be honest, Hunter often carried me on his back, as Hope Christian Fellowship was born. The day we took Nancy to Keystone Hospice I called this comrade and asked him to come preach at Nancy's funeral. "I need the gift of your faith to help celebrate Nancy's trip Home when it comes" I told him. Naturally, when the time came, he and Julie came up from Winston-Salem, along with Ger and Wendy. These friends helped make the day a celebration of the Lion's victory over death.

When I came back from Ireland in 1992 I was definitely battle weary. As part of refitting for the next round of battle I attended the Arrow Leadership Program beginning that fall. One of the guys I met there was Tom Hawkes. I remember Tom's role in helping me figure out what direction HE might take me as I rolled into my 40's. Later, Tom and I spent time in Prague, laying the foundation for WHM's current work there.

Now both of these dear brothers serve on WHM's Board. In another moment of divine convergence, they presented me with a framed copy of the resolution WHM passed to honor Nancy's years of service. Such moments remind me that HE is stitching together a perfect tapestry from the confusing threads of our lives. While we wait for the summing up of all things in Christ for HIS glory, we are encouraged to get these snapshots of how it does all fit together. The snapshot below was such a moment for me!

Hunter, Dan and Tom at the WHM Board Meeting

Down in the Valley

Reading the words of a friend who lost her husband 1 ½ years ago, I was reminded that there is no quick path through this place. It’s not a pit. I am not stuck in a deep hole trying to climb out. Instead, I feel this feels like a long walk in a very low place. It feels like I am walking through a valley right now. As I pondered that image a couple of phrases from the Psalms came to mind.

Psalm 23 refers to the valley of the shadow of death. We had walked Nancy through that valley until she flew home from that valley. HE honored the promise of those traveling that valley: freedom from fear. So, often when we became afraid HE rescued us.

Now we are in another place. Psalm 84 talks about 'the valley of tears.' This is a place of extended sorrow and weeping as I get used to life without her. How do you get out of a valley? You cross it one step at a time. I am not sure how long it will take to get out of this long low spot. I just lay hold to the promise of HIS people moving through the Valley of Baca: He makes it a place of springs. He refreshes us as we move through this vale of tears and promises to strengthen us. Pray for us to continue this trek with patience and faith.

With this Ring

A couple of weeks after I spontaneously proposed to Nancy we launched "Parents' Weekend." Our mission was first to tell Jack and Evelyn that I had proposed to their daughter. So, Phase 1 took us to Kansas City. Then we were to drive to Delia to inform Joe and Vernadell that I had landed a city girl.

The weekend began with a trip to a jewelry store to pick out rings. We found matching yellow gold bands. Her engagement ring bore a modest diamond. Later we inscribed I John 4:19 on the inside: "We love because He first loved us." That verse reminded us that our love came the from heart of God. Her wedding ring was in need of repair going into 2008, but we just never got it fixed. I left it with her six weeks ago.

Since then, I pondered what to do with the band I wore for 33 years. Conversation with lots of folks left me convinced there was no consensus on how long one wears the departed's token. It was clearly "up to me."

For some reason, I didn't want to leave the ring on my left hand for years. That seemed no longer "correct" for some reason. Furthermore, I wanted to mark the end of the covenant we undertook on August 9, 1975. We had by God's grace kept our promises to one another reasonably well. To change the location of my wedding ring seemed an act of sober celebration for the completion of that contract.

I was not ready to put it in a drawer. Nancy's departure is still fresh, and she is never far from my thoughts. So, I decided to move the ring to the other hand. But when? I didn't want to make the transfer just any old time. I picked a special day. On October 6 we remembered Nancy at the WHM Board Meeting. I told the story of my impulsive proposal to the group before they presented me with their resolution passed to honor her. Then that night in our room, I switched the ring to my right hand, as I tearfully rejoiced that we had run a good race together. It was 34 years to the day after we first promised to make a joint journey.

Honestly, it has left me with an uncomfortable feeling. The ring feels tighter on my right hand, but I don't mind. The tightness on my finger reflects the tightness I feel in my throat several times a day. Six weeks after the covenant ended, it is right to feel the pain of having crossed the line together years earlier than expected.

After the Bell

I have spent the last two days on a planning retreat with the senior leadership of WHM. These folks are more than business associates. Guys like Hunter, Eric, Dan, Bob, Paul, Meredith and others have walked with me so long in so many different places. They are my brothers. The time away engaged my mind, encouraged my soul, and reignited my passions for the Grand Cause. It was also fun to eat, play and laugh.

But tonight, hearing the financial news, I realized how much I missed Nancy's quiet, calm faith. Having invested in the pearl of great price, she would have told me not to worry, suggested we pray and restored my sanity. Without her I find my stomach churning overtime. There is no rushing this process of walking without her.

WHM's Official Resolution to Honor Nancy

Yesterday, as part of their semi-annual meeting here in Philadelphia, WHM's Board of Directors presented me with a framed copy of the following resolution:

Then he comes to men and says, ‘I have sinned and perverted what was right, but I did not get what I deserved. He redeemed my soul from going down to the pit and I shall live to enjoy the light. God does all these things to a man—twice, even three times—to turn back his soul from the pit that the light of life may shine on him.’” Job 33:27-30

RESOLUTION OF THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS OF WORLD HARVEST MISSION


WHEREAS, Among the many blessings God has bestowed on World Harvest Mission has been the presence and ministry of Nancy Macha, who served among us for over 25 years, first in Ireland and then as a part of our Sending Center ministry; and

WHEREAS, God has faithfully brought to completion His work in Nancy’s life, bringing her home to be with Him on August 30, 2008; and

WHEREAS, The formal records of World Harvest Mission should reflect our thanks to God for the gift of Nancy to our mission family.

THEREFORE, The board of directors of World Harvest Mission assembled here today does resolve, in gratitude to God and with love for the Macha family:

ONE, That we praise the God Who sent Nancy to us. We praise Him for the ways He revealed Himself as Healer and Redeemer through Nancy’s story, and for the freedom, joy and simplicity He gave her through His love. His “light of life” shone through her (Job 33).

TWO, That we thank God for the artistic gifts which He gave to Nancy, and which she in turn shared with us. Her paintings have blessed many in the mission family, both in Philadelphia and around the world.

THIRD, That we thank God for Nancy’s deep commitment to and love for her children, all of whom are faithfully following the Lord: Leah and her husband Chris, Josh and his wife Anne, and Karen Joy (K.J.). Through her children, Nancy’s love for Christ will reach into future generations: Aiden, Jonah, Lucia, Katherine, Micah, and those yet to be born.

FOURTH, That we thank God for Nancy’s evangelistic heart, evidenced in her desire that even through the darkness of her illness, people would come to know her Savior. As Josh said at her Memorial Service, Nancy was a woman who knew she’d found the “pearl of great price,” and she never let it go.

FIFTH, That we praise God for Nancy’s steady, faithful love of Dan through 33 years of marriage. Nancy’s gift of a Mazda Miata to Dan on the occasion of his 50th birthday perfectly exemplifies the kind of open-handed, knowing love she had for her husband and life partner.

Joy mixes in with our sorrow; our loss is Heaven’s gain, and we rejoice that Nancy now knows her Savior face-to-face. With heartfelt gratitude and tears, we praise God for the gift of Nancy to World Harvest Mission, and pray God’s abundant comfort to Dan and the children as they grieve this loss.


Tom Hawkes, Chairman of the Board
On behalf of the World Harvest Mission family
October 6, 2008

You know I found myself gladdened to think how God had delivered this mistreated young girl to give her a place of honor among a movement impacting lives around the world. With this resolution Nancy's role in the life and ministry of WHM is fully acknowledged. What a joy to receive this token of her life among us.

She said YES!

As the first weekend of October 1974 began, I was considering a hard decision. Perhaps it was time to break up with Nancy. Graduation was only months away. Were we headed in the same direction? Were we compatible? These thoughts were buzzing around in my head on Friday.

But then came Sunday, October 6. After we returned from church, she gave me my birthday presents. They were cool. The "Four Translation Parallel Edition" Bible bore her inscription of 1 Corinthians 13 (The Love Chapter) inside the front cover. Then I opened up this bottle upon which she had laminated mementos of our early dates. Very thoughtful stuff.

Suddenly, I found myself saying, "Do you want to think about getting married?"

"Yes," came the answer. Quickly. Followed by a kiss.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

The second "Yes!" was followed by another kiss.

So, there we were. Engaged. Before I knew it. No surprise proposal. No getting down on bended knee. I was spontaneous. She was certain. And if you have ever visited this blog before, you know we journeyed in the same direction with a surprising level of harmony.

So, today, as I mark my 55th birthday, I am sad we are not celebrating together. But I am far more glad that she said, "yes!"

Apple Pie and a Jack-O-Lantern to Go

You know up on the farm we worked hard and I wasn't every very good at farm work. But to my shame, I thought city folk were much smarter than we were. I was wrong. City people will go to the country and pay for the chance to undertake agricultural labor. They call this visiting a "pick your own" orchard. Today, I visited one with the kids and grand kids. We paid to pick apples today----and it was worth it.

Seriously, it was great to be with all five grand kids, Anne, Chris and Leah and other family and friends today. We enjoyed a beautiful fall morning under clear skies, and came away with apples to eat and a pumpkin to carve. This weekend we are gathering to celebrate my 55th birthday. I can't tell you how much it means to mark this bittersweet time with folks I love. Leah is every bit as much a verbal processor as I am and it is good to be able to grieve aloud with her even as we make new memories.

This weekend reminds me that we journey on as a family. My trip to the orchard suggested He has more fruit for me to pick along the way Home.

Celebrating a day of broken dreams and arms

Like a lot of young boys, I dreamed of being a football hero. Why not? I had watched my brothers enjoy moments of gridiron glory. I was certain I would follow in their footsteps. But 41 years ago today, an awkward stumble in a scrimmage left me writing in agony with a compound fracture of my right arm. Though I kept at baseball, basketball and track after that, I never again hopefully dreamed of finding notoriety through sports. Instead, my passions were increasingly centered around writing, speaking and drama. So, that moment of brokenness redirected my life.

I am comforted by that thought today. Losing Nancy has left me feeling broken. It seems that more than my right arm is in a cast. But, over the years, I have come to see how often brokenness has preceded blessing. Emotional, spiritual, relational weakness often leads us toward new vision and healing. I don't like the way this feels. But ,on an anniversary of broken childhood dreams, I look to HIM to mend my fractured spirit and to take me to a place of reborn dreams.

A month in Glory

Nancy spent the month of September in Glory. I spent the month of September in Glenside. I am sure she got the better end of the deal, but I am not going to complain. We were both dwelling where Our Father had placed us. HE knows best.

The sense of "journeying together" is actually growing, even though Nancy's role as a fellow traveller has changed. For years, her loving example instructed me. Now I don't watch her showing me how to follow Christ; instead, I have to pause and reflect on the lessons she taught me.

Although Nancy could be painfully shy at times, she was tenacious in engaging people when necessary. She just wouldn't back off if she felt called to stay connected. Yesterday I found myself in some situations where my default response would have been to back away. But somehow her example was used to keep me moving forward.

Don't get me wrong, I am not going to try to get Christian bookstores to replace all the WWJD bracelets with items bearing WWND. Nor do I even plan to ask KJ to design these for our family. At the same time I have found myself drawing on the lessons of my mentor Jack for years, so it is probably quite appropriate to reflect on the way Nancy walked through life as I continue the journey with her in Glory.

Back in the sadddle

I still know how to turn on my computer, I found the refrigerator for my lunchtime salad, and I remembered all the names of the Sending Center staff. Thus, it was a successful first day back in the saddle.

Seriously, this evening I read an article on grief my friend David Powlison had sent me. He discussed how sin often follows "curving in ourselves." The sadness of mourning can leave us vulnerable to selfish preoccupation if left unchecked. Sitting alone in the house is good for a season. But prolonged seclusion does tend to take me deep inside myself. So, it was good to be back at work, engaging the cause that consumed Nancy and me for 35 years: the expansion of the Kingdom.

Surely, I limped through the day. I hope to walk again soon. Pray that I walk in HIS footsteps.

A new week awaits

It's been a tough weekend. I spent lots of time alone since KJ was in NYC visiting friends. The house feels "booby trapped." Everything here makes me think of Nancy. It will take a while to figure out how to walk through this minefield of memories.

Meanwhile, I will head back into the office tomorrow. It's time. I will have to learn how to navigate work as I face ongoing reminders of our many years of working together under the WHM Banner. But I must walk into the minefields if I am going to move into the future.

Grandparenting Alone

The picture of Jonah on Hat Day at Playschool got me thinking.

Nancy was a great "Amma." She spent countless hours on the floor with her grand kids. Even after she got really sick, she would light up at the mention of "Lu-Lu" or Micah's impending arrival. Near the end, she grieved her inability to do things with the kids anymore.

Now, it would seem, I have to "pick up the grand parenting" thing for my departed buddy. As my friend Marc reminded me, it's important for me to get all the birthdays onto the calendar, handle the shopping, and keep in touch.

Years, ago I embraced the calling to pass the baton to a new generation. Being "Ampa" without "Amma" is one of the ways for that calling to unfold.

Closing the Red Notebook

This morning I awoke to a gloomy Friday forecast. The weather definitely caught the clouds of sadness that I have been carrying the past week or so. The word "aloneness" has emerged this week. So often I have felt alone.

It took about every ounce of will I had to open The Book to the Psalms. I forced myself to practice the act of reading HIS words aloud to confront the silence and pain. For the first time I noticed how often the world "alone" popped up in Psalm 62. But it was always positioned right next to a name: GOD. We find rest, salvation, refuge and rest in God ALONE. This reminded me that "aloneness" can not overwhelm us if we are conscious of HIS presence.

Imperfectly and incompletely, I experienced his comfort, his refuge, his presence. Then, from that thought, I was lifted away from "abandonment" to land in a place of mystical wonder where I could begin to recite all the ways that Nancy had enriched my life. It didn't take long to list 24 ways in which HE had worked in and through her.


Another word came to me to describe our journey together: "GIFT" Something planned for us, not designed by us. Something received, not earned. Something shaped by HIM, the Giver of every perfect gift. Yep, this whole journey has been a gift 34 years in its delivery. Our courtship, marriage, child raising, life overseas, return to Philly, the kids' growth, graduations, marriages, grandchildren...and finally cancer and Nancy's final healing. Today I even embraced the idea that widowhood and grieving were also gifts to be received with thanks. Of course, all of this stuff bears the scars and imperfections of life in a fractured universe. But they are just appetizers as we await the Great Wedding Feast anyway.

With these reflections I finished the red notebook entitled, "Nancy's Journey Home." 240 pages are now filled with the joys and sorrows of that excursion. I will put it aside for the weekend. Later I will reopen it and decide whether there is a tale to recount somewhere. Four weeks ago tomorrow, Dan and Nancy's Journey ended. So, it is right to complete the notebook today. The first chapter in mourning her passing concluded today. There will be more grief passages to write in the days ahead.

Does OUR journey continue? In a real sense, I celebrate the knowledge that Nancy has arrived at the finish line. She finished that journey well. And yet our journey continues. I will continue this pilgrimage shaped by the lessons we learned together. Those memories remain. I intend to celebrate them.

Where's my alarm clock?

Earlier this month, I stopped by to see Nancy's oncologist to thank her, leave her a note, and to claim some more "closure." We greeted one another with surprising warmth, including an unprofessional hug. She told me that after she had picked a residency in oncology she lost her mother to cancer. So, we shared more than I had realized.

"Just keep getting out of bed everyday," she encouraged me. Her compassion touched me. But I didn't think that getting out of bed was going to be an issue for me. I was still working off a "transition list" and there was still a lot of incentive to keep going.

Well, that was then. The current "pain phase" could create the kind of paralysis Melanie foresaw. The idea of staying upstairs with the blinds down has crossed my mind a couple of times this week. I am not sure the universe would crash if I stayed in bed for most of a day, BUT going fetal for a month or so does not really seem like a real way to push through this part of the process.

What is going on? Well, I am very aware that I have completed a grueling phase of life. That I am spent. But there is more. There is pointlessness. I have talked about it before, but I do sense a real void. It is not all bad. There is joy and relief in being able to accurately announce "mission accomplished." We have cared for Nancy well and she is now safe at home.

Now I am just not sure what can justify getting back on the race track again. Yep, I am a church kid, and I know that I was serving God as I cared for my dear wife. He is still around, calling me to serve HIM. But, He hasn't really given me any new marching orders yet. So, there is nothing to move past the sense of loss that fills me each time I return from walking the dog. And I run to aimless, worthless regions of the universe to dull the pain.

So, what is the calling to one who grieves? Getting out of bed is probably good. It is time to return to work. To try to fill each day with Kingdom Labor is the call of His servants. But there is more. To wait, to mourn, to listen, to read the Psalms and expect that He will slowly, gently lead me toward the next phase of the journey.

Last year at this time, Nancy and I were asking HIM to show us what was next with Leah in Fulton, and KJ nearing graduation. HE took us down an unexpected path that we could not avoid. I am sure that the next phase of the mission will be equally surprising, equally unavoidable, equally of HIM.

It's not all about Dan

Last night when I was chatting with Leah about the challenges of managing her two four year olds, I was reminded that I am not the only person deeply impacted by Nancy's homegoing. Talking to me about raising a blended family was not the same for Leah as talking to Mom. As KJ sets up her study and contemplates producing a line of handbags for Elcye's she misses getting Nancy's creative output. And I think it is bittersweet for Josh and Anne to be nurturing baby Micah.

In many ways Nancy's gentle presence was the hub of our family. Pray for us "spokes" to keep rolling forward!

A New Phase

Okay, things changed this past week. And it was to be expected. The frantic activity of the days surrounding Nancy's death are behind me now. The first deflation and numbness are receding. My first thought is no longer, "I am exhausted." Now, I find myself thinking, "This hurts."

During Nancy's last weeks I rarely felt anything physically. I was gliding. Now a tightness in my neck and shoulders frequently captures my attention. Even releasing my sorrow brings pain, a sort of physical spasm.

My summer blog entries served to drain off some of the tension of living on a roller coaster. It was helpful to share the stress of the crisis with you as it unfolded. In contrast, much of the past week's writing has triggered pain. To record these memories I am revisiting some hard moments. I am picking at scabs. Even blogging doesn't bring the same relief as before.

So, why not "put down the pen and walk away?" First of all, I know that I must capture these memories while they are still vivid. I also recall my friend Ed's encouragement the night of the viewing: "Keep writing. Keep letting us know how to pray." But what to ask HIM for? I don't think my biggest need is for the immediate elimination of the pain I feel. This pain resembles the sensation you feel when the blood starts returning to a leg that has fallen asleep. I need to experience this discomfort in order to walk again some day. Ask, instead, that I will not try to dull the pain with artificial cures, to foolishly soothe myself. I need to learn how to take this pain to our Wise Family Physician, the One whose scar heals all wounds. At the same time, I need his protection to avoid twisting this whole exercise into an emotional martyrdom. He alone can tell me when it's time to close the journal and go for a walk, watch a Phillies game or consort with live humans. Ask HIM for HIS wisdom, protection and guidance as we navigate this phase. So, far HE has kept us safe through the some pretty deep waters.

miles and rivers and pages

Okay, I came back from the shore yesterday afternoon. Since none of the kids were able to join me we decided that it was probably best for me to limit the period of solitary confinement to about four days. Being alone with me is pretty intense, even for me. Another reason many people truly admired Nancy.

I covered a lot of miles up and down the boardwalks and streets of Ocean City this week. We'd always walked but that ended as the cancer began. During her illness I couldn't tear myself away to walk alone very often. So, it felt good to begin this next leg of the journey with some long strolls, even though her shadow fell on every step I took.

Yep, there were rivers of tears. For the first time this summer, I gave vent to my grief without inhibition or interruption. So, the dam burst more than once as I sat alone, or heard the Village People belt out YMCA and remembered the crazy fun times we danced together over the last few years.

I added 45 some pages of notes inside the red notebook I began as this journey commenced in December. Details I wanted to capture before I forget. Lessons I think we learned. Questions I still have. Feelings I needed to express. As many of you know, I live to tell, to persuade, to communicate. If mourning is the active work of coming to terms with your grief, I need to communicate if I am to mourn.

But there is more, I want to tell the full story of our journey. The journey was provoked by the unexpected disease. But it is also the tale of how in facing the Unwelcome Visitor we traveled deeper in marriage, bridged some relational gaps among folks we hold dear and completed Nancy's healing as she finished her race. I am not sure where and when and how much of this story is to be shared publicly. We'll see. If nothing else, I want to add some more pages to the family archives.

Currently, I want to finish writing out my initial notes in long hand over the next week or so. Then I will log them on to my laptop. After that, who knows? Just ask HIM to make the path clear.

Finally, I have one more week left in the generous bereavement leave WHM granted me. Pray for me to complete the initial casting of the tale, sort out some of the transition details to make life work, and prepare to move toward the "new normal" I will find in returning to work.