A Big Return on our Investment

It is Sunday morning. After a month-long Tour de Texas, it’s good to be back home again – “home” home, and to my church home. I hear: “You’re back!” “Welcome home, Donna!” “We missed you, Donna!” I love those words: “Welcome home!” Can we even fathom what those words meant to the prodigal son when His dad welcomed him home? I’m in MY pew and MY seat. Well, it’s not really mine, but I get here early enough to claim my territory! Second row, first seat, middle aisle where those of us who are honored and humbled to be communion servers stand. Easy to get to my place from here.

There is no place like home with my “church family”. We are the ones who team up in volunteering, serving, sharing, loving and praying. A common goal – to let our little lights shine here and out there. Wherever I go, God goes -- so, actually, everywhere I go is home sweet home. But, I see Him loud and clear in my church family. We walk hand-in-hand in some tough times and in the over-the-top good times. We are family. We’re a part of the Family of God – we’re brothers and sisters.

As I kneel for a few minutes, I exhale all the busyness of my life and I inhale the One Who got this whole “church” thing started in the first place. He wanted us to come together in one accord. He wanted us to bear one another’s burdens. He wanted us to be Him to our world. I sense my Lord here. In this place and in my heart. I know Him intimately. He knows even more about me – even those annoying fly-away hairs that I have to keep licking my fingers to make them stay down. I express gratitude, with all this journeying I do, for getting me safe and sound back here.

I look around. I see Him in the etched glass reaching His arms out to His disciples. I get chills just thinking He’s holding His arms out to me in the same way. After all – I, too, am one of His disciples. He says: “Follow Me!” And, I follow. I see Him in the stained glass above the altar – the hand of God symbolizing the Father, the Lamb symbolizing the Son, the Dove symbolizing the Holy Spirit. I’m familiar with the Trinity: the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I know them well – not as casual acquaintances but as MY never-failing, always-present, Holiest of Holy team.

Maybe you don’t have a church family – those who go toe-to-toe with you in good times and tough times; those who see you and come with a hearty hug for you. I have an investment in this place – my time, my talent and my treasure. The return on my investment is peace, joy, comfort, stability, hope, love and long-term (lifelong and beyond-term) pay-offs. Here’s my humble advice: If you want the best return on investment (ROI), there is nothing like investing in the Kingdom of God, investing in people. People will endure through time and eternity.

We don’t have a mission. God has a mission and has invited us to become part of His mission. We are the people to accomplish that mission. Someone said, “Keep the main thing the main thing.” The main thing is the mission of God. If you want real ROI, be a part of a team of people who make you better because their interests are beyond themselves. Their interests are Kingdom-based, people-based. Together we’re strong and stalwart with eyes on the prize. So, onward, Christian soldiers! Marching as to war, with the cross of Jesus going on before.

The Statue of Liberty: Welcome Home, You Tired and Weary

My youngest 11-year-old grandson, Bryson, was fit to be tied. He wanted to give his birthday present to me before anyone could give theirs. He was so excited as I opened the special box, padded so nicely with the treasure inside. It was this beautiful Statue of Liberty that he just had to have an engraved plaque added to it. Bryson and his dad went to see Lady Liberty a couple of weeks ago on their annual Dad/Son trip. It really is a precious treasure, now prominent on my fireplace mantle.

It brought back sweet memories of his Papa and me riding the ferry to Ellis Island to see her majesty in breathtaking reality -- she who offered freedom, hope and a new beginning to so many weary travelers from foreign lands years ago. Ellis Island is where the vast majority of immigrants stopped before being allowed into the U.S. I am reminded of Emma Lazarus' quote that is on the statue: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”

This post isn’t for debating the issue about the illegal immigrants' issue, but to share my own immigration story. In 1986, our family desired to move to Canada. My husband was a natural born Canadian citizen and a legal immigrant to the U.S. For us to move there, it meant that our children and I had to go through a rigorous "legal" process to obtain residency there. We had to complete stacks of documentation, have medical exams, attend interviews and go through a lengthy waiting period before getting to accompany my husband to his "home and native land".

Eventually, we were approved, and so was my mother who moved there with us. She received a Canadian pension as well as her U.S. social security and was blessed with no-cost medical treatments. I was blessed to be employed by the University of Manitoba and to this day, I still receive my Canadian pension. Our children became viable working people there. Our son, Ryan Wuerch became a top-selling realtor at the age of 19. Our daughter, Staci Wallace was Miss Manitoba, competed in the Miss Canada pageant and won the talent portion. She ran a modeling agency for malls and she represented Canada as a soloist in the 1986 Winter Olympics. We were so blessed.

Canada opened its doors to our children and me. We were aliens in a foreign land but were respected and given the rights of other Canadians, as we proved our value in the opportunities that Canada provided to us.

A couple of years ago, I attended a Tulsa Prayer Service for immigrants. Over 500 Latinos were being encouraged in their desires for immigration to the U.S. A grateful Spanish Pastor give his own story as a landed immigrant to the U.S. My heart was touched to see a room filled with people who sincerely desired the freedoms and the opportunities to live here. This pastor said “I know that many of you in this room are waiting for your permit. I know that you are here to work and not here for welfare or a hand-out. Most of you have valuable skills that can benefit this country. You are paying taxes every time you buy a hamburger and a pair of socks here. He urged them to pray for God's help, to save money, educate and prepare themselves for acceptance.

May God bless and answer the prayers of honest people who sincerely desire a safe place to raise their families, where they can do an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay and a country that welcomes them as viable, contributing citizens.

And God bless all of us who realize that this world is not our final home. We are temporarily here on this earth as strangers and aliens in a foreign land. But, one day, we'll join together and in thunderous applause and cheers of joy and celebration, we'll see the banners and hear those beautiful words “Welcome Home!”

On a Day Like Today......PUSH, BABY, PUSH!

On a day like today -- November 16th, 2010 -- birds singing, fish jumping in the lake and a gentle breeze blowing into our bedroom window -- the greatest of all sweet celebrations was about to begin! I don't rehash the memories for my sake -- they are forever with me. But, if one word, one phrase, one spark ignites someone's faith from my experiences, it will have been worth the journey.

What started as an idea to get our bodies moving, actually created excitement about the upcoming weekend for our whole family. We had a plan, and we were setting the plan into motion. We would all be together for an early Thanksgiving on Saturday, November 20th. We'd get as many as possible in the bedroom with Ron and enjoy our traditional Thanksgiving meal together with him. Then, when it would get dark outside, we would have the "lighting of the Christmas lights" that had been hung by a crew of family members. We knew Ron would love this night of celebration. Everything was planned to the finest of details. Strategically, beautiful lights were strung on an artificial tree just outside my Honey's bedroom window, as well as on the neighbor's fence and on all the trees at the back of our property. We knew he would love the family being together for such an intimate, sweet family time together. Then the plan was for all of us to run in the "Movement of Gratitude" aka "Run for Ron" in the Route 66 Marathon on Sunday. It was a masterful, brilliant plan!

But, God and my Honey usurped our plan and the "The Master's Plan aka The Perfect Plan" took over. As the days passed toward our big weekend, my Honey seemed to sleep more and talk and eat less. He had always given into my usual "drill sergeant" techniques to get him to eat more. I opened the windows wide and exclaimed "It's a beautiful day!" This morning was different than the days before. This day, he shook his head "no", when I tried to give him just one more bite of his favorite, oatmeal and brown sugar. His mom and sister came by for their usual daily visit. He raised his head and said, "Hi, Mom!", then closed his eyes again. After they left, I tried to give him his lunch -- another favorite -- chicken and dumplings, but this time, nothing doing.

Though I had been hustling around to get the house all ready for our arriving family that weekend, I suddenly knew that heaven was closing in on us and the house and this earth no longer mattered. Peace resonated from his being. Peace overcame me as I resigned myself to "let go, and let God" take over. With all the standing in faith for his healing on this earth before -- today, there was a sense of knowing that heaven was opening its portals for another soldier to come home. Not just his wife, but I knew it was time to be his midwife. It was as though heaven touched earth when I whispered to him, "Sweetheart, I think the 'Welcome Home' sign is up for you in heaven. Go ahead and go there. I'll be okay. I'll catch up with you later. Now, it's time to push, Baby, push! Go home! Push, Baby, Push!" Peace enveloped our room.

My Honey was not leaving home -- he was going home. I knew God loved him so much -- it was time for him to receive the grandest rewards that he so deserved. With all the love I had and have for him, how could I possibly keep him here one minute longer? He earned this. He deserved this. Within just an hour, he breathed his last breath, and ever so peacefully, I saw the most beautiful man I have ever encountered -- both outside and inside -- push through to the other side. Yes, there were tears, as with any close family member or friend who is leaving our presence for a while, yet also tears of joy, knowing pain is over and that we'll be together again one day. I gave him words that I knew the Father was saying to him right now: "Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter now into the joy of the Lord!" Matthew 25:23. How sweet it was -- all pain was gone as my dashing, beautiful husband was free at last from that weary and broken earth suit.

Did we "lose" him? No, we know where he is! He is not lost. Did we lose our fight? No, we fought the good fight of faith. As St. Paul said, "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith, and finally a crown of righteousness awaits me (2 Timothy 4:7,8).

By the way, we still had our family Thanksgiving on Saturday, the 20th, and we celebrated this bright light that had been in our lives for so many years. We lit up our back yard and all of us watched from Honey's bedroom window -- except, not quite as planned, for Honey had graduated from that hospital bed. We like to think that he was watching from his "room with a view" from heaven itself. He did push through and now he is cheering us on and pushing us to OUR finish line -- where we'll meet up for a grand reunion some day! So, let's PUSH, BABY, PUSH to live life to its fullest, share and be a witness of God's love, and be on purpose to finish strong so that we hear those words "Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter now into the joy of the Lord!"

Welcome Home, Love!

After two weeks away, I was back home to T-Town, and saw that my yellow rose bush was blooming. I know it's Spring, but, in my own little world, I like to think that it being in bloom was a special gift from my Sweetheart in heaven. Yellow roses were a big deal for us during our 44-years of marriage. Our wedding flowers were yellow roses, I was his "Yellow Rose of Texas", we planted a yellow rose bush in every home we ever lived in, and when I would return home from any trip I was away from him, he always had a yellow rose waiting for me with a sweet note "Welcome Home, Love!". Those precious traditions still keep me cherishing the memories we made.

Maybe there are new (or even seasoned) widows or widowers reading this and wondering if life will ever get easier for you. My answer is "yes, no, yes, no, YES!" In the beginning it feels like a roller coaster ride -- going up, up, up with laughter and thanksgiving for the sweet memories, and sometimes down, down, down when you hear "your" song or smell his favorite cologne on someone, or experience Valentines, birthdays, anniversaries, Thanksgivings, Christmases -- without him or her. Other times, when you're embracing family, friends, sweet times and making new memories -- there's the tendency to almost feel guilty for feeling so happy.

After almost 5-1/2 years since my Sweetheart graduated to heaven, I can assure you that, if you'll embrace the journey that you are still on and know, without a shadow of a doubt that you are still on assignment, you will experience JOY again. Happiness equates to external things like your favorite TV program NOT getting interrupted when the storm comes through town or when your doctor gives you a 2-thumbs up because your medical tests were negative or when you get a bonus check in the mail. But JOY is that internal place of joy and peace that comes to stay, regardless of external circumstances, because God and His joy and peace live inside you. I promise you, joy will come to you when you accept it as a gift like nothing ever given to you before.

I know your journey and my journey may be completely different, but if you'll practice gratitude and watch for all the sweet kisses from heaven like I did yesterday when I saw those yellow roses, you, too, will see beauty in the flowers and the blooming trees, you'll laugh with children, you'll start being a light to others and you might even dance in the rain. It's been raining a lot lately, so why not put on those dancing shoes -- and DANCE?

Psalm 30:11-12 "You have turned my mourning into dancing. You took off my sackcloth and clothed me with a garment of joy, so that I may sing praise to You, and not remain silent. Lord, my God, I will give You thanks forever."

Oh Tidings of Comfort and Joy!

Day 341 of Photo Inspirations -- Oh Tidings of Comfort and Joy
From first hand experience, I know that this time of year can cause painful memories of a loved one's parting.  My Dad passed away on December 17th when I was 15 years old, and my Sweetheart passed away on November 16th.  But rather than coddling you and telling you "Just go ahead and be depressed and sad.  You owe it to yourself to feel that way," I just won't, because I know how God has taken me through these times with a garment of praise instead of a spirit of heaviness.  We really have choice in how we live our lives -- knowing the abundant life that is ours because of Christ's birth, or submitting to the "dark side" of woe and despair.  For those reasons, I'm providing how God gave me the LIGHT, instead of the darkness, and how sweet it is to live this way.  Please read the following blog that I posted in 2010, upon the arrival back home for the first time after my Sweetheart had passed away and his funeral.  It's lengthy, but I promise you -- the precious promises I found during that time may be the comfort you need today.   I pray it brings you good tidings of comfort and joy.

"Arriving back to theTulsa Airport after being away for a week after my Sweetheart's funeral, I thought about the changes that I was about to face – not with fear, but just pondering. As I walked through the gate from the jetway, I immediately began to think about how my previous arrivals to the Tulsa Airport had been. I remembered how my Honey would tell me he’d just meet me at baggage claim, but he never did. He would always find a hiding place in the waiting area, where passengers would leave the airline gates, and as I walked through the security door, he’d pop out behind a post or the crowd, and with open arms, grab and kiss me, and let me know how much I’d been missed. He always looked so handsome, dressed so fine, and smelled so good. I’d think “That’s MY man!” In the car, he’d always have a single rose on the console, soft music playing, and give me another “welcome home” hug and kiss. Our travel home would be me, non-stop, telling about the adventures of keeping the grandkids or some other very important reason that would take me away for a few days. Then arriving at home, the house would smell so good (he always made sure it was clean from top to bottom), and soft music would be playing. But, I knew.....tonight, would be different.

My eyes welled up in tears as, this time, he didn’t surprise me. He wasn’t waiting or hiding as he had always been before. But, then….what to my wandering and teary eyes would appear….as I walked out to baggage claim, but my two “Tulsa” grandkids -- running to me with open arms and screaming, “Nana, Nana! We made you cards and presents! Did you bring us something?” Oh, sweet and great distraction from my previous thoughts! Getting into the car, they excitedly displayed their “Welcome Home” handmade cards and ice cream stick creations – one to hold my pens and pencils, a drink coaster and ice cream stick crosses. They were little chatter boxes all the way home, and at my home, my kids made sure the lights were brightly burning, soft music was playing…..and the house was so clean and smelled so good. Of course, Nana brought them gifts that gave them even more excitement. Oh, how my Heavenly Father gave me exactly what I needed, once again – “good tidings of comfort and joy” that comes from a loving Father in the form of the purity of two little children who love me so much.

Once again, I was reminded of God’s blessings to me and how much I have to be grateful for – the most of which is that my Honey is basking in the presence of God, free of pain and living in perpetual celebration. Dear friends and family members have e-mailed me, sent me cards or called me to express their best wishes and I continue to respond that I have been and continue to be wrapped in a blanket of peace and I choose to stay there....in that Secret Place of the Most High -- abiding in the shadow of the Almighty. Also, my promise in Isaiah 26:3 that says, "You will keep him (Donna) in perfect peace, whose mind (Donna's mind) is stayed on you: because he (Donna) trusts in you."

Of course, I have waves of emotions -- when I see his pictures, his clothes, the fingerprints of his life all over this home -- most assuredly, I miss him beyond words....but that doesn't say I'm going to allow myself one moment of grief (definition: deep mental anguish, as that arising from bereavement) or sorrow (definition -- mental suffering or pain caused by injury, loss, or despair). Both of those words talk about "mental" suffering. I refuse to go there. No, I’m not in denial. I’m in that "secret place” of the Most High – abiding under the shadow of the Almighty (Psalm 91:1). I have a choice – to be in sorrow and grief – or to celebrate each day that God gives me. I choose to open the windows wide – to listen to joyful Christmas music – to shine the Christmas lights brightly -- to laugh with my grandchildren while making gingerbread cookies -- to call a friend and encourage them –- to raise my voice in song, especially singing, “God is so good”. I will finish strong! I will be a conqueror!

Yes, now I know, from first hand experience, what it means to have a loved one in so much pain; I know what it is to have to deal with financial issues; I know what it is to have a loved one "go home"; I know what it is to not know what tomorrow holds. I am living it and walking through it, and, I can tell you....living in that place of peace -- taking one day at a time, and above all, knowing my Father will take good care of me – is the place to be. He promised it and I choose to believe it.

I purpose to live out my faith with joy instead of sorrow, dancing instead of mourning, wearing a garment of praise instead of a spirit of heaviness. It is a reality of Christ's redemptive work on Calvary. And here’s the real deal…I can look Death in the face and declare -- "Oh Death, where is your sting? Oh Grave, where is your victory? Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” I Corinthians 15:55,57.

Yes, at this beautiful time of the year…we can all sing the words “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, let NOTHING you dismay, remember Christ, our Savior, was born on Christmas Day, Oh tidings of comfort and joy!”

Good Tidings of Comfort and Joy

Four years ago, I came home to Tulsa after spending a beautiful Thanksgiving week in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico with my son and his family after a whirlwind previous couple of weeks of decisions to be made, funeral preparations, and all the "to do's" after my Honey graduated to heaven.

Cabo was just what I needed – to get away – find that place of consolation, peace and serenity. Everything about the previous few weeks – in fact, the last eight months seemed quite surreal. But, I had walked through the valley of the shadow of death, and, because of this profound place of peace, I literally feared no evil. God was there to comfort me – that was His promise in Psalm 23 – He had kept His promise. I was comforted.

My eyes welled up in tears as I walked from my plane down the concourse and approached the waiting area, as this was the first time that I arrived back in Tulsa, with my Honey not waiting for me.  BUT, what to my wandering and teary eyes would appear…. but my two, then, “Tulsa” grandkids, running to me with open arms and screaming, “Nana, Nana! We made you cards and presents!"  Oh, sweet distraction from my previous thoughts! Getting into the car, they excitedly displayed their “Welcome Home” handmade cards and ice cream stick creations – one to hold my pens and pencils, and the other, a drink coaster and ice cream stick crosses. They were little chatter boxes all the way home.  Oh, how my Heavenly Father gave me exactly what I needed, once again – “good tidings of comfort and joy” that comes from a loving Father in the form of the purity of two little children who love me so much.

Of course, when I arrived back at home -- I had waves of emotions -- when I saw his pictures, his clothes, the fingerprints of his life all over our home.  I missed him beyond words, but I was never overcome with even a moment of grief (definition: deep mental anguish, as that arising from bereavement) or sorrow (definition -- mental suffering or pain caused by injury, loss, or despair). Both of those words talk about "mental" suffering. I refused to go there. No, I was not in denial. I was in that "secret place” of the Most High – abiding under the shadow of the Almighty (Psalm 91:1). I had a choice – to be in sorrow and grief – or to celebrate each day that God would give me.  I chose to open the windows wide – to listen to joyful Christmas music – to shine the Christmas lights brightly -- to laugh with my grandchildren while making Christmas cookies -- to call a friend and encourage them –- to raise my voice in song, especially singing, “God is so good”. I will finish strong! I will be a conqueror!

I purpose to live out my faith with joy instead of sorrow, dancing instead of mourning, wearing a garment of praise instead of a spirit of heaviness. Yes, at this beautiful time of the year…we can all sing the words “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, let NOTHING you dismay, remember Christ, our Savior, was born on Christmas Day, Oh tidings of comfort and joy!”

Welcome Home!

Today, November 16th, is the 4th year anniversary of this beautiful man's promotion to heaven. I say it that way because he fervently believed this life on earth, is just our internship for what we were created to do, and be, in heaven. I know he’s on assignment there, as we are all on assignment here until OUR “promotion”. I am so grateful for my Facebook friends that indulge me as I often post about him and our life experiences. "Remembering" is one of my greatest joys in life. There is no greater gift given to me than when folks “remember” him with me. In fact, yesterday, I was so touched when our dear friend, Charles Michie, spoke about Ron at a conference I attended. But even more touching, was when I saw that Mick was wearing a vest of Ron's that I had given him. It meant so much to me.

November 16, 2010: What started as an idea to get our bodies moving, actually got our whole family excited about the upcoming weekend. They were coming in for an early Thanksgiving the next Saturday. And, we'd have our traditional Thanksgiving meal with Ron, in the bedroom. Then when it was dark outside, we'd have the "lighting of the Christmas lights" that had been strategically hung by a crew of family members, just outside my Honey's window. We knew he would love the family being together for such an intimate, sweet family time together. Then, on Sunday, we would all run in the "Movement of Gratitude" aka "Run for Ron" in the Route 66 Marathon. We had a brilliant plan....or so we thought.

But, God and my Honey had the "MASTER PLAN"! As our big weekend was approaching, my Honey became less communicative; he slept more, and ate less. Always giving in to my usual "drill sergeant" techniques to get him to eat more, had little effect now. This morning, I opened the window blinds wide and exclaimed, "It's a beautiful day!" His eyes remained closed, but I knew he heard me. This morning was different than the days before when he'd shake his head as I tried to give him "just one more bite". I fed him almost all of his oats and brown sugar and several bites of toast covered in strawberry jam -- one of his favorite breakfast meals. His mom and sister came by for their usual daily visit. He said, "Hi, Mom!", then closed his eyes again. After they left, I tried to give him his lunch -- another favorite -- chicken and dumplings, but this time he didn't respond to eating at all.

Though I had been busy with getting the house ready for the family to come in this weekend, I was drawn to stay by his side now. Something about today was different than before. I took his blood pressure and pulse over and over. It was erratic -- high, then low. With all the standing in faith for his healing, now it seemed it was time to to let go. It was just him and me at home. It was as though heaven touched earth as I whispered in his ear, "Sweetheart…I think the 'Welcome Home' sign is up for you in heaven. Go ahead. Go there. I'll be okay. It's time to push, so PUSH, Baby, PUSH!" I knew I was being his mid-wife, pushing him from this world, into his real home. I called Shawntel and asked her to let Ryan know as he was in Hong Kong. I called Staci who was at her job in Dallas. When I told her that I think Daddy is passing -- I laid the phone by his ear and she sang and spoke sweet love words to him. I called Ron's sister who showed up at our home within a few minutes. The hospice nurse was the next to arrive. She said, "Yes, he's in transition -- it could be tonight or within 72 hours." He was so peaceful. I was so at peace. I knew it was time to begin the home-going celebration. My Honey was not leaving home….he was going home…..where he belonged. I knew God loved him so much -- it was time for him to receive the grandest rewards that awaited him. He had a glimpse of heaven. I just knew it. With all the love I had, and have for him, how could I possibly keep him here one minute longer? He earned this. He deserved this.

Within just an hour, he passed, ever so peacefully, and I saw the most beautiful man I have ever encountered -- both outside and inside -- push through to the other side. Yes, there were tears -- my soul mate, lover, best friend and husband of 44 years went home, yet also tears of joy, knowing pain is over and we'll be together again one day. I said words that I knew the Father was saying to him, "Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joys of the Lord!" Matthew 25:23.

Did we "lose" him? No, we know where he is! He is not lost. Did we lose our fight? No, we fought the good fight of faith right through to this day. As St. Paul said, "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith…and finally a crown of righteousness awaits me." 2 Timothy 4:7,8.

By the way, we still had our family Thanksgiving on Saturday, the 20th, and we celebrated him -- the beautiful and bright light that had been such a vital part of our lives for so many years, by our lighting ceremony. All of us watched the lighting of our back yard from Honey's and my bedroom window…..except, not quite as planned, for Honey was no longer in that hospital bed. We like to think that he was watching from his "room with a view" from heaven. He did push through, and now he is cheering us on and pushing us to our finish line!