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HAIL, that great equalizer

I had just laid my head down after spending another few hours in the garden that spring evening ….. finally got most of my herb plants and a few more flowers IN . . . when I heard it.

ARGHHHHH HAIL!

Hail. I hate hail. That great equalizer. Natures way of reminding us who is in charge, and that we are always dependent on Him. Big mistake to rely solely on “the arm of flesh”.

I timed it.

From beginning to end less than six minutes. But I knew it wouldn’t take more than that. It never does. It doesn’t have to. I mentally went through my garden beds and realized there was no one or two places that I could reasonably even hope to cover. If I had had warning. I was completely at the mercy of hail. My thoughts turned, as they often do, to my great grandparents who repeatedly got hailed out on the prairies after putting in all their blood, sweat and tears. I thought of them standing there, at the door, watching the hail fall, weeping. Not much else to do. . . . . And as always, my heart went out to them. My people. Most of whom I’ve never even met.

early family garden in the city when the kids were little, around 1989

For me hail means frustration, disappointment and inconvenience. For them it meant everything! For them it could have cost them their entire year, and they would have wondered how they were gonna feed their family in the winter to come. I knew there was nothing I could do but hope and pray. Just as they knew there was nothing more they could do.

I went out the following morning to check my gardens. Fine. I checked each plant I put in last night. Fine. All fine. If I hadn’t heard the hail storm the night before, I likely wouldn’t even have known about it. I am relieved. And I am grateful. And again as I do so often, I wondered “why I am so favoured?”. And I love and appreciate all the more, those people who came before me, to this land. And paid such a high price, so that I could have what I have, a long time after they’re dead and gone. Thank you. Thank you to Charles and Sarah, to Alonzo and Elizabeth, to Andreas and Inger, Pearl and Leland, Heber and Capitolia, and all the others who sacrificed so that my children could be born HERE in this place, NOW in this time. The fullness of times.

And I thank my Heavenly Father again for the bounty we enjoy in this land. And I recommit myself to Him, with the reminder that I am nothing without Him. All I can do for myself can be wiped away in 6 minutes, or less. Yes, I will continue to work hard. But in Him alone will I put my trust.

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle

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Come Grow Old With Me

“Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand who saith, ‘A whole I planned, youth shows but half; Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!”
– Robert Browning, a 19th century British poet, and famous for the poetry he and his wife Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote together, still often quoted today.

Many things he wrote touch my heart. But this: “Come grow old with me. The best is yet to be . . .” this one is my mantra. I first heard it when I was 17, recited by a television character in an episode of “Marcus Welby MD”, and it imprinted in my brain. I thought it was the most wonderful and idealic expressions of love I’d ever heard. Although I couldn’t really visualize a life that wasn’t youthful, I knew already that I wanted to grow old with Dan. And I completely trusted that “the best was yet to be”.

Robert Browning

Well, over 45 years have come and gone – nearly half a century. (Sheesh right 🙄). And I have realized for years that I am living my dream. Although it hasn’t always been a picnic, and we’ve certainly waded through much struggle over those years, I am indeed growing old with Dan. Ironically, Robert Browning outlived his wife Elizabeth by 28 years, never remarrying. He grew old without her, dying at the age of 77. How very, very sad. But not sadder than the hundreds of similar stories we see unfold all around us. Loving marriages, cut short here on earth by the passing of one. How grateful I am for the promise I have absolute faith in: that families are forever. Because of the atonement of Jesus Christ, families can be sealed together for eternity, and live together in family units forever.

Dan and I are approaching retirement. We hope and we pray for, and we truly look forward to the time to finish growing old together. We have many productive and wonderful years ahead, to spend together and to enjoy our family as they grow old too. But if not. If, for some reason that neither one of us will understand, that is not to be – then we can lean on the knowledge that we have chosen to seal ourselves to each other, with our family, and that we will be reunited in due time, and continue our life together in another place.

– warmly,

Cindy Suelzle

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Remember When Jesus Gave You a Present and He Said SURPRISE!?

One day whe Luke was three or four years old, he said to me “Remember when Jesus came to our house Mom?”
hmmmm, I was a just a little confused …. “Nooo Luke. I don’t remember that.”
“Mom! He came. Remember?”
I racked my brain trying to recall some bearded man who had recently come to visit us. But couldn’t. “uh, no Luke. I am sorrry. I don’t remember.”
“Mom! You were there!” Had Brother Blommaert come to visit? He had a beard.
“Mom! He ringed the doorbell!” Had Brother Blommaert dropped something off recently? When I wasn’t home perhaps?
“And he gave you a present.”
…. oh my – this was getting very mysterious. “Jesus gave ME a present Luke?” Brother Blommaert MUST have been by.
“Yes! And the present was all wrapped up in a blanket.”

Feeling very sorry to disappoint him, but not recalling any recent event that might fit into the description he was giving me, I admitted defeat. “No Luke. I am sorry. But I cannot remember when Jesus came to our door and gave me a present.”
“MOM! And he said SURPRISE! and when you opened it up, it was ME!”
The light went on.
“Oh Yes! I certainly do remember when Jesus gave me a wonderful surprise, and you’re right, it WAS you. Best surprise ever. …… But Luke, Jesus didn’t actually ring the doorbell.”

Luke couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t heard the wonderful story of how he came to our family. “A long time ago, there was just Mommy and Daddy, and Jacob, and Sarah, and Zack and Joseph. But no Luke. We thought everybody in our family was home. But you weren’t with us yet. You were still living in heaven. You were waiting for your turn to come to us, but we didn’t know that because it was a surprise. And we were just going about doing our stuff. And you were saying “Wait! Wait for me.” but we couldn’t hear you. We were having a picnic, and riding our bikes, and eating dinner and reading stories and you were saying “Hey! Wait for me!” And then one day, Heavenly Father said “its time to go join your family” and you were so happy. And Heavenly Father told us “Surprise!” and He gave you to us. And we were so surprised! And so so so happy.”

Well that boy is almost thirty years old. And just about three decades ago Heavenly Father really did tell us “Surprise!”, and a few months later, Luke joined our happy family, completing that generation of it. April 7 1990. A Happy Day for all of us. Luke gave Jacob the chance to re-find his tender-big-brother-side, Sarah the chance to practice being a mommy on her own real-live doll. He gave Zack and Joseph a little brother to play with and to take care of. And he gave Dan and I another chance to put into practice all the things we learned from the other kids. Another chance to get it right. Baby Luke was a delight to us all. Never was there a little boy more loved and cared for, and cuddled and read to. He was always in someone’s arms. Sitting in church became a political problem …. he was three years old and everyone still wanted to hold him. I am amazed he ever learned to sit on his own, let alone walk on his own.

Why the story? Because at one point, before 1990 we thought we were finished having children. The doctors had strongly advised that my fourth caesarian should be my last, and after months of confusion, and praying for guidance about such an important decision, we decided at length to follow the doctor’s counsel and leave the details up to the Lord. We never had that conclusive feeling that our family was finished, but we knew with God all things are possible. We had good examples of adoption in our extended families. We had fostered briefly. We had provided a home for two years for the teenaged child of a friend. We knew there were numerous ways a child could join a family. It didn’t need to be traditional. We figured that if we were open and receptive, then one day, when the time was right, Heavenly Father would find a use for these parents who still had years to give. We trusted that one day – we might be surprised, and that if we would just be watchful, and receptive to the promptings, that we would respond appropriately when the time came, and the Lord might be able to work through us. It never occured to us that a child could come to us through the normal means after we had taken measures to ensure I didn’t get pregnant again. We didn’t think that was possible. Well, guess what? It is. With God – ALL things are possible. He knows us. He knows our hearts. He knows what is best for us. And He was patient with our decision five years before – knowing afterall, that He was in control. “You do the best you can until you know Better.” right?

My fear was that one day Luke might hear the word ‘surprise‘ from another source,and another perspective. All of our friends and family knew the miracle by which he came to us. I was afraid that at some point, he might overhear a portion of his story out of context, and he might deduce that ‘surprise’ meant something else. I wanted him to always know he was important, and loved and welcomed to our family with open arms and open hearts. I wanted to make sure that he never had a reason to doubt that, and I concluded that the only way I could ensure he never thought differently was if he heard it all from ME first. So from before the time he could talk, he heard his story. About how we didn’t know he was going to come to our family, but we were so happy when we found out. I told him in a way that I thought he could absorb. Funny how kids fit truth into their own reality. They sort it out in the way that they see the world. In the way that makes sense to them. I was okay with that. I knew that as he grew and his understanding developed, he would sort out the details. The only thing that was critically important was that he always feel loved.

Somewhere along the line, Luke grew up. And now he has two babies of his own. Very wanted and welcomed and loved babies that he shares with his lovely wife Pam, and with the rest of us. Cause that’s what families do. But he’s still my baby. And I still refer to him as my baby. And sometimes the grandchildren feel the need to object. “Uncle Luke isn’t a baby!” they say.
I tell them “oh yes he is. Don’t ever fool yourselves. Uncle Luke will always be our baby. And you know what? He likes being the baby. Don’t you Uncle Luke?”

“Yup.” (that’s how he talks)

And the world continues to turn. And babies grow up. And mom’s get older too. But some things should never change.

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle


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Who is the Most Important Person in This Room?

Michael McLean said something to me years ago that has reframed my life.

It has helped me hundreds of times, when I needed to come out of my personal comfort zone and do what needed to be done.  He said simply this: “Its never about YOU.”  Then he added the following, summarized in my own words, and edited over more than a decade of implementation, but the essential concept in this post came from Michael McLean.

Woman at the Well by Liz Lemon Swindle

His counsel:  Every time you walk into a room (or situation) you have a decision to make.  As you stand briefly in that threshold, before you actually walk through the door, you should ask yourself one question.  That question is “Who is the most important person in this room?” If the answer to that question is “ME!” then you are completely justified in all kinds of self centred thoughts like “I am uncomfortable here …. This is awkward for me … No one ever sits beside me … Why bother? … This is soooo out of my comfort zone …. I’d really rather not be here …. ” etc etc – because after all, you ARE the most important person in that room.  However, (and this is the clincher), IF the answer to your question today is . . . . . “that woman over there!” or “Laura!” or …. then suddenly, as soon as you’ve made that decision, your thoughts become all about her.  “I should go sit beside her – I should tell her how I LOVE her new hair – I should tell her how much I enjoyed her son’s talk last week – I should tell her how much I appreciated that comment she made the other day, and how much it helped me” etc etc.  Notice how all your previously self centred thoughts and feelings, turned 180 degrees to focus on someone else.  I really think we all want to BE nice.  We all want to BE the kind of person who makes other people feel good about themselves.  What that boils down to, is that we want to BE more Christlike.  More like Christ.  Well, if that is genuinely true, then think for a moment.  WHEN was it about Him?  When did He put himself first and say “nobody likes me”, “They’re not gonna like what I have to say” “I am so stinkin’ sick and tired” … Even when He hung on the cross, it still wasn’t about Him!  “Father forgive them.” and  “Woman, behold thy son” (John 19).  When?  When there are other people involved, when should it be all-about-me?

The fact is – sometimes it IS about me.  Sometimes I really have to say “this time – I just cannot do that“. And those times are okay.  But they should be rare exceptions, not the rule.  Most of the time, no matter how you’re feeling, when you’re in a place where you see someone who might need a kind word or wave, or even more – simply ask yourself – “WHO IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THIS ROOM?”  I cannot tell you how much that has helped me be a better person and get over myself for the moment. Thank-you Michael.

The only time it backfires is when you raise your children with this philosophy, and then one day when you’re really struggling and feeling sorry for yourself, your daughter says “So why is this all about you mom? Who’s the most important person here anyway?” Stupid kid!

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle