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Where’s my Bat signal?

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A while back, I received a call from a dear friend who needed some help.  The request was one that I accepted realizing that it was going to be a stretch for me to pull it off.  In my heart though, I knew other friends would have my back (or in this case, neck).

The request was simple.  My friend (who is a preschool teacher) was looking for someone to make 8 little scarves in two weeks for her students to receive as gifts during their study of winter weather.  The catch: they needed to be knit or crocheted. There was a book that she would be reading as a culmination of the unit, and the scarves would be a part of that story.

I hung up the phone, and then, thought what in the world did I just say I would do.  (That type of behavior is my own curse, and fodder for a whole different blog.) Without hesitation, I went to my version of the Bat-signal.  Batman had his alert method, and I have mine.  Formerly, it was CaringBridge but now it is Facebook.  As fast as my fingers could fly, I posted my friend’s request and asked for help.  I pledged to create two, but I explained I could use some extra hands and needles/hooks for the remaining six. Within eight hours, all eight were spoken for. And within a week and half, all were delivered into the hands of some little preschoolers.

scarves

I never really doubted that they would be, but what amazed me was a comment that another “friend” posted. I should clarify our friendship status.  We “met” making a transaction online, and the necessity of that business deal required us to befriend each other.  Once we did, we discovered we had some similar interests and thus an online friendship formed.  We’ve never actually met one another in person.

Yet in the midst of my friends chiming in that they were on it, this gal’s comments stopped me in my tracks.  Sometimes especially when I encounter lemons or changes in plans, I forget just how blessed that I really am.  The comment while simple summed it up perfectly.

Kandy, even though we have never met, you must have the most amazing friends.

She was right, and I knew it.  Many times those same sweet friends have come to my rescue for all kinds of things including some of my doing.  I don’t live anywhere remotely close to my family at all, and most of my husband’s family is fairly far away as well.  Sometimes I don’t even have to ask for the help, my friends just know when to call, text, or show up.  Somehow they get God’s gentle prompting that I need them.

Proverbs 20:6
Many will say they are loyal friends, but who can find one who is truly reliable? (NLT)

 Thankfully, in my case, the answer to that question is “I can” many times over.  Today, I’m counting each and every one of those blessings, knowing I probably never needed that Bat-signal anyways!

 

Life’s sweet lemons

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sweet teaToday was one of those “when life hands you lemons” sort of days.  My littlest one coughed all night long, and we chose to keep her home from school.  We’ve been having some car troubles; so, I sent the big kids to school in a more reliable vehicle. Thus, I had no wheels to get to my doctor’s appointment, but I didn’t really want to take a sick little girl out anyway.  Now I have to reschedule into my already busy agenda.  Lemons!

One of my favorite Southern girl quotes is “When life hands you lemons, put ‘em in your sweet tea and thank God you’re a Southern girl.” Embracing that spirit AND with a full glass of tea in my hands, I decided to make the most of it.  I looked at my ever present to-do list and decided the laundry and the ironing made the cut today.  I enjoy ironing, so it was somewhat therapeutic to press away.  During my chore time, I noticed a Redbox case still sitting by the television.  Shoot!  We have got to get that returned.  One more lemon!

Between items, I went over to pick up the DVD only to discover it wasn’t in the box.  I attempted to get the DVD out of the player, but attempt was the operative word.  It wouldn’t budge.  I was beginning to wonder if I needed more than chemistry and mathematics degrees to know how to operate the thing.  Then I realized it wouldn’t even turn on.  I decided to wait until one of the guys came home.  Sawyer was here first so I asked him to retrieve the DVD and return it to the store.

I heard a lot of fiddling around, and eventually, I heard the toolbox open up.  I came out to ask what was going on when I heard the unmistakable sound of a ratchet-style wrench.  His idea was to take the cover off and just see what was going on. Boys! I just wanted to return a rental, and here I was having technology surgery on my kitchen table.  Talk about lemons!

The cause of the current lemon challenge was shocking.  Instead of just something stuck in the path of the sliding drawer was the evidence of small fire that had taken place in our DVD player.  That DVD player was in the basement that we just spent an entire year remodeling.

At that point, I was thanking God that I was Southern.  I was thanking Him that He showed me just how important small inconveniences really can be.  We were saved from losing anything more than a $30 DVD player, when the consequences could have been much, much worse.

I was thanking Him for the protection of my family and our memories and the realization that He is always watching over us.  What began as inconveniences that were mildly bitter became blessings that never tasted so sweet.  

 

For the love of boys and trucks

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papa's truckIt never ceases to amaze me. God will put something in my head as a topic for this blog, and then He gives my heart confirmation that He meant it.  It happens all the time.  In fact, it happened today.

I had been thinking about how I had never really written about my little blue pick-up truck.  Well actually, it was my Papa’s (pronounced Pawpaw) truck.  Long ago, I lived with my grandparents in graduate school.  That time of my life remains one of my most special.  One day after classes, my Mama (Mawmaw) told me that they were working on their will and were wondering if there was anything that I had my heart set on.  Looking back, the conversation was quite comical.

How about one of the cedar chests?

Sorry shug, your cousin has already asked for those.

How about your bedroom furniture?

No, I’m sorry that is going to your Momma and Daddy.

How about the kitchen chairs?

Well, um, no hun. Another cousin has already spoken for those.

(Eyebrows raised) The old stool we used to all play on?

Nope.

(Exasperated) Well, how about you just give me that old truck and the lawnmower.  That ought to be about good.

Done!

I don’t rightly know all the circumstances, but the old truck was sold off much to my broken heart. I loved that old green Ford my Papa drove when we carried out our adventures.  But some short time after “my” Ford was sold; he purchased a little blue pickup.

As time wore on, my Papa slipped further away from us due to dementia.  Slowly, his memories and recollections just faded away.  He began to forget generations of people.  All of us grandkids morphed into one of his children. By the time he arrived at the Alzheimer’s unit at the nursing home, there were only two things he remembered with certainty.

He knew that my Mama was his gal.  And the second thing he remembered was he had a little blue truck.  Of course, how we found out about that memory was something else.  Papa (who went by Mr. Reed at the home) was being pushed down the hall by another gentleman. When asked where they were going, the other man told the nurse that they were going to take Mr. Reed’s little blue pickup for a spin.

After he passed away, Mama gave the pickup to my dad.  I think he just felt wrong about it, and he turned around and gave it to me.  When we drove it back from our meeting spot in Arkansas, we told Reed that the truck would be his someday.  From one Reed to another.

As we know, that plan didn’t turn out as hoped.  For nine years, she’s been used to haul anything too large or too messy for our other vehicles. In January, plans began to fix up that little blue truck for Sawyer.  Eighteen years old and only 62,000 miles.  We figured she has a few more years left in her. My parents told Mama what we were doing, and one day I got a call from her saying that she knew that Papa had to be so proud knowing that one of my boys was driving that truck.

Today as I was driving down the road to one of my kiddo’s VIA (Very Important Appointments), I heard a song that had the tears flowing down.  It was the confirmation I needed to know that I really was meant to write this blog. My thoughts were tied to my heartstrings. I love it when God sends those heavenly assurances.

Take a listen below and hopefully you will see what I mean. And, in case you were wondering, the place I feel closest to my Papa is in that truck.  And you better believe if “Sweet Home, Alabama” or anything Hank Williams, Sr. comes on, we crank it way up!

An amazing “AHA” moment

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bulb can be found at www.nostalgicbulbs.com

bulb can be found at www.nostalgicbulbs.com

I had one of those “Aha” moments yesterday.  It was truly a game changer for me.  As a scientist, I’ve always loved the story of Archimedes jumping out of the bathwater when he discovered the method to prove that the king’s crown was truly gold.  Although it is rumored he yelled, “Eureka”, that is my favorite historical “Aha” moment.  As a teacher, I have always enjoyed the times when I saw the light bulb turn on for a student.  It’s that moment when you get a glimpse into a student taking knowledge and making it their own.  Bringing big smiles to me, those moments are priceless.

My epiphany yesterday came about in an unexpected way.  I needed to travel for a business meeting, and my ministry partner who was to travel with me was needed to care for her mom.  Utilizing the best network of friends I have, I posted on Facebook asking if anyone was free for a quick trip to Sioux Falls.  Luckily for me, a friend and her little boy (whom I lovingly call Turnip) were free and up for a road trip.

I have known this friend for more than a year, but we’ve never had this kind of just the two of us time together before.  I was looking forward to it, and I was so thankful for the company.  Turnip isn’t a bad companion either.  He rode along as a little trooper in his car seat.  I will never turn down an opportunity to snuggle with him – ever!

As the day progressed, we spent our travel time just swapping stories and getting to know each other better.  Turns out, we have a lot in common.  She probably discovered what most of my friends do – I have a story about everything!  At some point, we were sharing some pretty amazing stories of how God has handled things in our life.  I don’t really know how it happened, but she was telling of an amazing opportunity of when God had put her in a place to truly bless some strangers.

As she was telling her story, it was almost as if God dropped some knowledge on that mini-van that went straight to my heart.  Sometimes, I just need to get out of my own way.  That seems theoretically impossible, but what I mean is that sometimes, I let MY plans, MY worries, MY fears, and MY failures, get in the way of God’s.  I really get bent out of shape if MY plans go awry.

Listening to her story, I realized that every single time that MY plans didn’t, well, go as planned. God had either set me up to be blessed more or placed me to bless someone else.  That knowledge was a humbling game changer.  I thought about how God had lovingly given me a new set of skills for the next plan that falls apart.  I need to adjust my horizon by praying, “Okay God! I don’t know what’s coming but I’m ready to be blessed or to bless someone.  And I’m listening.”

When that light bulb went on in my head, I am fairly certain that the Ultimate Teacher smiled. 

The grand finale . . . the last Reed’s Run

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Drawing Copyrighted property of Reed's Run

Drawing Copyrighted property of Reed’s Run

Well this is it.  I feel like I am sending my baby off to kindergarten.  I have loved, nurtured, worried, fretted, and spent many hours praying for Reed’s Run, and now, it’s time to send it off.  I carry in my heart precious memories of a job well done, funds raised, and hope given.  To say farewell, I am just going to give a list (not all-inclusive) of some of those favorite memories.

  • Friends and family working together to remember and honor
  • Honoring veterans each and every year (including remembering Jason Timmerman)
  • The friends from the Patriot Guard coming (even if unofficial)
  • Being able to publicly thank all of the first responders.
  • That flag over the start/finish line – took my breath away!
  • Friends arriving that were a surprise to me
  • Family flying/driving in from all over the country
  • Hosting a Grampa’s Amp concert
  • Students taking a stand (I will never forget what they did.)
  • All the hugs!
  • The Reed stories that came out.
  • Remembering all the children gone much too soon. The luminaries were always my favorite, especially during the movies.
  • Remembering three adult friends who offered healing to us and now are gone before we ready.
  • Honoring those who have inspired us.
  • The Star Wars theme song!
  • Seeing the t-shirts everywhere!
  • The generosity of our neighbors!
  • The joy of the runners, walkers, and kid runners!
  • Cheetahs and all the love!
  • Popcorn stands, Boy Scouts & Girl Scouts!

Finally, the most important memory is the message that we worked so hard to send.  Healing comes from a firm foundation rooted in the love and sacrifice of Jesus Christ and from the all the many hands & feet (and HEARTS) of a loving community reaching out in love.

To rise from tragedy . . . cling to HOPE!

Thank you for being the hearts that offered hope and healing!

 

The most amazing gift . . . the last Reed’s Run

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reed's eagleAs the CEM (Chief Executive Momma) of this family, it is very difficult to surprise me.  Oh, I love surprises. When there are always little ears and eyes, a lot of “oopsies” moments happen.  The other reason for the lack of surprises in my life is the fact that I am a planner.  When looking at details from carpools to holidays and from appointments to events, I am usually the keeper of all that goes on around here.

The ten months of planning that it took to pull off Reed’s Run each year were fraught with lots and lots of lists.  Auction lists, t-shirts, website updates, marketing, parade promotions, registration forms, medals, volunteers . . . the list went on and on.  Exhausting, but in the end so worth it.

On the actual day, I flit about often being pulled in many different directions.  I rarely eat, and I hug lots of people.  I share a few tears, but none have compared to this year’s finale.

Everything was running smoothly (albeit not without a few bumps in the road).  So to those that shielded me, THANK YOU and those that offered grace, THANK YOU even more!  We finally got down to the last parts of the evening, the awards ceremony, the Jesus Painter performance, and the movie.  I was up on the stage announcing the winners of the various medals and was to introduce Mike Lewis for the worship time.

As I concluded the awards, all of a sudden I see Matthew (my high school best friend) coming toward the stage.  I really wish this were videotaped, because I can only imagine what my face actually looked like.  My mind was thinking, “This is weird.  I haven’t seen you in twenty-three years, but I wasn’t expecting a deviation from my plan.”  As he came on stage and took the microphone from me, I am certain I was questioning his judgment and mine.

What happened next, I never saw coming.  But as I saw one of Reed’s former Scout masters in uniform also coming forward, my knees grew weak and the flood gate of tears opened up.  Matt explained how he was so excited to be here and about our friendship.  He then told the tale of how he had made arrangements with Reed’s former troop for this special occasion.  He shared about his summer long ago at Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico, and how I was his pen pal while he was gone.  They were special memories.

Because of some kind of rule on timelines in the BSA, Reed couldn’t be awarded his own Eagle Scout.   Sobbing in front of everyone, I heard one of the sweetest tales ever told.  My dear friend decided Reed would indeed be earning his Eagle Scout, just not in the normal way. The gift he gave in honor our sweet redheaded boy is truly the embodiment of scouting.

We were handed Reed’s Eagle Scout award, his Eagle neckerchief, and a Philmont Scout Ranch patch.  The Boy Scout Law states all the qualities that define scouts.  A Scout is: Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Courteous, Kind, Obedient, Cheerful, Thrifty, Brave, Clean, and Reverent.  What it doesn’t say is that a Scout gives sacrificially, because in this magical moment, that’s exactly what happened.

The award placed in my trembling hands was Matthew’s own Eagle Scout award, “re-awarded” to Reed.  Engraved on the award is the motto, Be Prepared.  There was no way my heart was prepared for this surprise as it was truly an amazing gift.

A joyful noise . . . the last Reed’s Run

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I will sing to the LORD, for he has been good to me. Psalm 13:6 (NIV)

About this time last year, the first graders at Lakeview were learning to sing the National Anthem.  I don’t recall, but it might have had to do with curriculum on President’s Day.  One day, Clo came home and told us she could sing it.  All of us big people were more than skeptical.  Yet we entertained the possibility and listened.  She could do it.  Some of the words were wrong, but the tune was spot on.

As the months and weeks moved along in the countdown to the final run, we started to check off the preparations completed.  One box left open was the singing of the National Anthem for the opening ceremonies.  As we were preparing for the first team meeting, that conversation came up.  In the past, we have had friends including one of Reed’s best friends sing our country’s song.  We were considering asking a former classmate who has stayed in contact with our family.  When somewhat like the mouse that roared, our little Clo chimed in.  “I thought I was going to sing the National Anthem!”

You could have heard a pin drop.  Our thoughts: there would likely be a large crowd. Would nerves get the best of her? That is a hard song to sing.  Would she be able to do it well?  What about her hearing impairment?  What if she isn’t hearing well again in September? But quickly, we all realized that the hang-ups were ours, not hers, and since the run is about her big brother, it would probably be a forgiving audience.

cloie (3)For those that don’t know the background story, our littlest girl was born deaf.  She went an entire year of life before she heard a sound.  Thankfully, she has mechanical deafness caused by Eustachian tube defect.  She started having surgeries at the age of one to restore/correct her hearing loss.  To be able to sing is one thing.  To have excellent pitch is entirely another.

To ensure success, we enlisted the help of our neighbor (who Clo adores AND who happens to be a vocal music teacher).  From there, we just let her sing and sing and sing.  My ears will never get tired of it, because I remember the days of walking into her room in the morning.  She sat in her crib and didn’t have any idea I was there.  I remember the days of holding her and having her little hand on my throat because she somehow realized that there was a connection to my mouth moving and the vibrations she felt. I remember her not making sounds; so if she wanted to sing, we were going to let her.

She practiced.  She sang, and she sang some more.  Finally, came the big day! If she was nervous, she never let it show.  With a microphone held steady by me, she belted out the National Anthem as if her voice was strengthened by choirs of angels.  She nailed it.  It was so moving that many had tears in their eyes as a little 7-year-old girl sang to honor her country at an event to remember her biggest brother.

When she sang, it was more than a joyful noise . . . it was a healing balm to my soul.

Note: Unfortunately, her performance was not recorded in its entirety at Reed’s Run.  We do have her performance from Our Journey of Hope night (the annual remembrance of the anniversary) at our school.

A score minus four years ago today

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Always loved those cheeks!

Always loved those cheeks!

Sawyer:

Sixteen years ago, I woke up that morning after a fitful night of sleep to put on my warmest clothes, grab a suitcase, and head out into one of the coldest days I had ever experienced.  We arrived at the hospital a little before 7 AM, and we were getting ready for a potentially long day or days.  Back then the maternity floor only had one birthing suite, and we were there getting settled.   When all of a sudden in came a former doctor who staked his claim, and we were booted to the less fancy room down the hall. The morning nurse apologized over and over . (All I kept thinking was “Of all the nerve!” If it wasn’t such a big day, I probably would have told him off. As far as this Mama Bear goes, it shows his lack of class.)

I was there for a scheduled inducement as I was a full 10 days past my due date.  They hooked me up to all sorts of things, and then we waited. Of course, Reed (also induced) took a long time to arrive; so I planned on making this a couple day thing. One of the things I remember clearly was how incredibly hungry I was, but ice chips and popsicles were all they offered.  (I do remember more than once trying to convince your dad to sneak out and get me some little chocolate donuts. He didn’t, and I asked him whose team he was on anyways.)

Boredom eventually overtook us, and I asked if we could at least walk around that floor of the hospital.  With pull cart in tow, Dad & I made enough laps around the hospital that I earned the amounts needed for the health and fitness challenge at work.  I even tried to convince them later that giving birth should count as work-out points. (I must have been convincing because I won the most creative work-out that year.)

Eventually I started to feel some pain, and man, you would have thought a visiting army was coming into town.  I scoffed.  “We aren’t having a baby yet.  It’s only four in the afternoon.”  A classmate’s mom, who was our nurse that day just smiled and said, “Well, it’s better to be prepared.”

Within in an hour, Dr. O was there and between pushes, he and Dad were watching television.  Strangely, I can remember that first, the weather man brought a cup of water outside and threw it into the air.  It was ice before it hit the ground.  There was also a terrible violent gang act on the news, and all of us had a conversation about how we were so glad we didn’t live there.  The news was finally over, and the guys switched the channel to golf.  I was too busy with other things – like pushing – to protest out loud, but in my mind, I was thinking of all the things to watch – GOLF!

Sometime in there, a call was made to one of your sets of godparents who brought Reed and Grandma Sheran to the hospital for the big arrival.  They were right outside the door the moment you arrived.  6:18 pm – Nannie loved that number because those numbers were the same as her birthday.  And there you were!  It was love at first sight.  Well, at least for most of us, Reed who never liked to be dirty, proclaimed, “Eww (with wrinkled up nose), is this my new baby brother? He needs a bath.”

Eventually, I walked to the regular room which earned me quite a reputation for being one tough momma.  The truth is that had more to do with you.  You were just plain amazing.  Easy delivery . . . easy to raise, and for that we are blessed.

It’s like the card we gave you this morning says, “Every hold my breath moment has been worth it.  You have grown into an AMAZING young man.”  We are so blessed and honored that God chose to give you to us!

By the way, I did get my little chocolate donuts that night, and every time, I have one I think about one of the most wonderful days in my whole entire life.

Happy Sweet 16th, Sawyer!  Even though, I didn’t know what lie ahead for us all those years ago, I do know one thing for sure.  God has mighty and amazing plans for your life!

I love you!

A cross-country love . . . the last Reed’s Run

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amy1I will be the first to admit that social networking has its pitfalls.  I will stipulate that Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter can be huge time drainers.  However, with eyes open wide to the pitfalls (of which I am prone) I also believe that my life has been enriched by the somewhat instantaneous connections with friends and family flung far and wide.  I love relationships and that feeling of connection.  I know it isn’t face to face conversation, and I agree cyber hugs pale in comparison to real embraces.  Yet, I love that in the past few years I have reconnected with family and friends that I haven’t seen in person in many, many years.

Several of those relationships have evolved over the years to being some of my sweetest friendships.  One of those sweet blessings is the deep friendship and adoration with our cousins in Washington.  Long distance, we cheer each other on through all of life’s ups and downs. Our relationship has gotten so close that we have even started our own language, recently coining the term “Pray-paring” in relation to how we should get ready for anything life.

When we first announced registration for Reed’s Run 2012, these same cousins became the first to register, albeit with a twist.  They were going to run the race remotely.  We were open to the idea, and we happily mailed them their t-shirts.  One of our cousins was so proud of her t-shirt; she immediately wore it to school the next day. (Again thankful for Facebook because that is where I saw the evidence.) They inspired a few more cousins and friends to do the same.  Their willingness to participate (in whatever fashion) made our hearts soar.

The night of the run, my sweet Amy, penned us the following letter to tell of how they had spent the day and how the remote run went.  She included all the pictures here.

Kandy

                It is with joy that I write to you to share about our Reed’s Run here in Washington.

                It was like waiting for Christmas morning.  The countdown began & quickly, day by day, it got closer.  The questions began. “Where should we run?” “When should we leave?” “What do we wear?”  Then the preparation began.  We got our light sabers first.  (We had to have them to bring the boy in Reed, the playfulness into our home.)  We got Gatorade ~ like it would somehow fuel our feet.  I think it was then that I realized I had “pray-pared” a lot more than I had prepared.  My heart was ready – the love overflowing – the joy and excitement contagious, but preparing physically – not so much.  Kayla hurt a tendon earlier in the week at drill practice & Sam came down with strep.  We wanted to do it as a group so we walked most of it & I was glad we did.

                I woke up Saturday morning to a grey sky & wet pavement.  Evidence of rain.  We have not had rain in about 2 months which, in Washington, is unheard of.  That is when I knew it was going to be a great day.  Courtney (Sam’s girlfriend) came early with donuts.  You need carbs to run you know. J I asked the children to help me with our “numbers”.  Because we weren’t in Minnesota, we decided to use the names of Reed, Emilee, Hunter, Jesse, and our flag as our race numbers.

                We drove to Ruston Way. A beautiful and most important flat road next to Puget Sound. J It was 67 F and sunny.  We prayed by Kelly’s truck as a group and started on our way.  I was surprised by the number of people who stopped & asked us what we were walking for.  (So I thank you with all my heart for the shirts).  It was an honor to share about Reed’s Run with them & everyone was touched by Reed’s life & his story.  We finished with tired feet but joy filled hearts.  What a gift it is do something nice for someone else.

Kelly & I took a few pictures & are sending them to you and your family.  We want you to have an idea where we were.  We wanted to bring a part of us to you. 

                I know that this is the last Reed’s Run, but I hope that you realize because you allowed us to be a part of this – we are forever changed.  We will now look for simple ways to bring God into others’ lives by showing others His love.  And every time we pick up our light sabers we will remember Reed. 

                Memories are beautiful part of God’s love & we have a beautiful memory of our special Reed’s Run day.

Love,

Kelly, Amy, Sam, Courtney & Kayla

amy2

Those that know me know I was a puddle of tears after reading this letter.  I still choke up reading it.  Of the multitude of reasons is the fact that our cousins love us and Reed enough to want to be a part (even their own special way) of our day.  But more so, they were an embodiment that Reed’s story (which is ultimately God’s story) has a far and reaching effect.  From what seems so senseless this side of heaven, God is using in ways that we can only imagine.

This time He used our cousins to help us see His bigger picture.

 

Note – the emphasized words in Amy’s letter are mine.  However, I truly believe that is the heart of healing.  Realizing that God has a purpose for us and often that purpose is to serve others may just be the secret to healing broken hearts.

 

sawyer's flagWhen we first envisioned doing something to fund the Reed Stevens Memorial Scholarship, we never saw an event as big as what Reed’s Run became.  The four runs produced many different results: some expected and others pleasant surprises.  The obvious by-products were a successful fundraising venture and a community event enjoyed by many. Among the unexpected were the blossoming of friendships and the renewal of friendships from long ago.

One of those friendships was rekindled in those early days in the hospital when Sawyer was still in the Intensive Care.  It was something akin to the proverbial blessings that those who have walked through tragedy really have eyes and hearts open enough to see.  The connection was with one of Sawyer’s godmothers.

As the days drew closer to the final run, we realized that we were going to have a house filled with loved ones as well as a few hotel rooms with other loved ones.  For those travelling from far away, we decided to send out an agenda of what we would be offering in the way of entertainment.  After working set-up all day Friday, a break would take place to cheer on Sawyer and the Lakers with a September/October birthday party at the fire pit in Reed’s garden afterwards.

To be honest, we didn’t think many would take us up on the offer for the football game.  To our surprise, there were 15 people that comprised the cheering section for number 74.  One among our group was Sawyer’s little god-brother, S, proudly clad in Laker blue and waving homemade flags emblazoned with Sawyer’s name and school “mascot”. S cheered on the team, and more than once he wondered aloud why the team or coaches weren’t listening to his flag as the score did not reflect his impassioned cheering. Sadly, Sawyer didn’t play for three fourths of the game, and for a while I felt like we had asked these loved ones from Georgia, California, western North Dakota, and Florida to come for nothing.  Then in the final few minutes, Sawyer and the other Junior Varsity guys went in.

All of a sudden an amazing tackle happens, and over the loudspeaker we hear, “Tackle made by Sawyer Stevens.” (This, of course, reads better if you do the loudspeaker echoing voice out loud.)  The Sawyer Stevens entourage cheered exuberantly, but none compared to little S.  He jumped up and down, declaring for all who would listen, “Sawyer listened to my flag. I knew it would work!”  I don’t really care what others would call the play of that game.  For one sophomore player, that was definitely it.

For the trip to the birthday bash, Sawyer rode with his god-family the 30 miles back to Marshall.  Even though I wasn’t there, the story told by his godmother about the trip home was priceless.  Huddled together in the back of the car with their heads touching were two brothers (one in high school and one in elementary) deep in conversation and game playing.

For the one who misses his big brother every day, it was a model example of brotherly love and what used to be.  For the rest of us, it was a reminder that even though the circumstances aren’t what we had planned, God’s vision of family is BIGGER than we could ever imagine.