Category Archives: Uncategorized

June 7, 2015 · 6:26 pm

When Plans change

I want to sit a little longer in my chair. The breeze is blowing in the side window, and everything is so quiet. All our Littles have given big hugs, collected their flip flops and belongings, and been safely strapped into their respective car seats and boosters and shouted their good-byes. All my adult children that are “spoused” have packed their cars, hugged their Daddy and Momma and their sibs and in-laws and driven out of the lane on their way back to their normals.

It has been a bitter sweet weekend. We had planned to go to Pennsylvania to Copeland Lodge (http://copelandspring.com/) for five days this week (Wednesday to Sunday) for our biennual family vacation. Ten bedrooms, lots of bathrooms, big kitchen and great room — everything just so right for a family our size. Daniel’s sister, Lena, was going to be with us, so that made a grand total of 15 in the lodge. Eldest Daughter, Christina, had carefully planned and the rest had marshalled around her to help with food and expenses and activities. I could hardly contain myself, I was so excited. We had arranged care for Nettie and Cecilia, and time away in a neutral turf without home responsibilities sounded so wonderful.

Then Sweet Mama fell, broke her femur, had surgery, developed pneumonia, had a heart attack, developed a secondary infection and eventually came home from the hospital under the care of Hospice to a sunny corner room at the Country Rest Home where there would be care for her broken leg, and comfort for her remaining days. Our children offered me the option of not going to Pennsylvania, but rather a “stay-cation” where everyone would come home and we would do the best we could while here at home. I could almost feel the anxiety drain from my body as I discovered that this was not the offer of only one of our kids, but every single one of them, along with the three in-laws. I gratefully took the offer. It gave me the opportunity to be close enough to keep in touch, and my siblings graciously freed me up from having to be responsible for what happened with Mama for these five days.

And so, we’ve had some happy, happy times together. Some of the stuff they did without me. Some of the time they cheerfully held the edges of stuff together for me with Nettie and Cecilia and together, we just kept things going. There was a middle of the night call as Mama went into crisis, and then daily visits and catching up with calls and texts. I was so glad I was here, and could be involved in these critical days, even while others carried the brunt of the burden. The whole intensity of the situation felt so different than it would have from four hours away.

There was a time, Thursday night, when we did not think Mama would live through the night. I spoke to my brother, Clint, and asked him to come. Mark spoke to Nel and Rose and told them they should come, as well. Mama took one look at her oldest son and things were immediately better. When Nel got in the next morning, she went into a quiet sort of waiting that was much easier for us to handle. And while she is not getting better, there is a peacefulness that is wonderful to see. However, though things are not as critical as they were, she does continue to deteriorate. Clint left to go home to South Carolina around noon, and Nels plan to leave in the morning. The four youngest of Mama’s children will see this through. I’m so glad that Clint and Nel and Rose came. Mama’s most lucid moments were for them this weekend, and their memories will be far better than we had hoped when we asked them to come home. The days ahead look uncertain and difficult, but we are not alone, and we have incredible support from our families and the extended families.

And I am free to be more involved again. Once again, having Lena here, having Rachel home, and having Deborah’s familiarity with our house routine and good help are blessings of no small measure. There is much for which to be thankful.
And so, though our family may not have had the vacation that we had hoped to have, I believe that we still have had the very best that these days could have afforded under the circumstances.

. . . and my heart gives grateful praise.

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Tagged as Changing plans, family living, http://copelandspring.com/, Stay-cation, Sweet Mama, Vacation

May 31, 2015 · 9:54 pm

My Sweet Mama

We take turns, sitting by her bed. I trace the lines and think about the face that was so familiar to my young life. I never knew that she was considered a very beautiful woman until I was a teenager. She was my Mama, and it didn’t matter what she looked like.

She gave me swing rides on busy mornings, sat on the steps and played dolly with me when I had no one to play with. She tried to keep me neat and clean, but I had a penchant for dirt and for getting rips in my dresses. I remember the time when I heard her say to Daddy one evening, “I think Mary Ann is finally growing up. She isn’t ripping her dresses every day at school!”

She worked so hard. There was a man she loved and a farm that they were working together, and she did anything that Mark Yoder, Sr. asked her to do. She did anything that she thought would help him even at great cost to herself and her comfort. She helped with the milking, fed chickens, gathered eggs, loaded and hauled one hundred pound burlap sacks of feed onto the wheelbarrow, as many as four and five at a time, and pushed them to the distant chicken house, emptied them into the feed cart and filled the hanging tube feeders down through the long house. I remember when we got feed bins at the end of that house and how wonderful it was to pull that cart under the chute and watch the feed pour into the cart. It seemed like luxury to her.

She did all that work outside and then came in and cooked for her family. Three meals a day. Every single day. And Daddy liked real food, so she didn’t very often decide to “just slip by.” She canned peaches and pears and applesauce and tomato juice and pickles and sometimes meat. She froze huge quantities of corn, Delaware Lima Beans, and strawberry jam. She began baking our own bread around the time I reached adolescence and the memories of the sight of those beautiful loaves and the smell of the farm kitchen inspire me still. The smell of homemade bread still says “home” to me like no other smell.

She loved to sing, and she had a lovely soprano voice. It was the time in the Mennonite church when forming a singing group was popular, and many people would sing in a specialized, privately arranged group. She sang in a women’s sextet for a number of years, and they were good. The ladies in that group had names that would be recognized in many communities. Mama’s sister in law, Dottie Embleton Yoder, Dottie’s sister Tootie Embleton Miller Clegg, Rachel Swartzentruber Schlabach, Rachel’s sister, Vida Jane Swartzentruber Huber and Maxine Mast Eash (along with Mama, Alene Wert Yoder) are the six that would have sung together the longest. They were good! Sometimes they would practice at our house, and we would need to go to bed early. What an incredible privilege to grow up hearing my Mama’s voice, singing in an a capella group in the living room below my room as I drifted off to sleep.

Beauty, music, good food, hard work. And so much more. All now brought to a halt by life and aging and this last insidious battle that she is fighting. A fall. A broken leg. Surgery. Pneumonia. A heart attack. And now an infection that has been hard to trace. She is totally dependent for everything she needs. The road ahead looks frightening and difficult. She is 86 years old. Often dogged by weariness in her life, she is even more exhausted and she struggles to breathe as her lungs fill more and more with fluid and the ravages of pneumonia. The doctors and the nurses are so kind, and they jump to do what they can for her. They are guarded in their prognosis.

For the first time in her life, she is talking about wanting to go home to Heaven. She doesn’t want to leave the people who love her, and she really does care about the little ones who know and love her and want her to stay here. But the tug of the eternal is all over her face and the weariness holds us at bay because she is too tired to really converse.

And so we, (I and my siblings and in laws and the next generation) sit by her bed. We hold conferences with the (many) doctors and each other. We adjust the pillow that gets so hot around her neck, give her sips of ice water, and rub her feet. We call the nurse when the breathing gets so short she gets frantic and we call the nurse when she has other needs that we cannot meet. We pray for her, speak to her of Heaven and those who are already there. I print out pictures for her wall of happier times and I try to bring up the good, good memories of the many, many years we’ve shared together.

The last year has been especially difficult for her — and us. She has felt her independence slipping away and she has battled fiercely against anything, ANYTHING, that she deemed an inroad on her life the way she knew it. Oftentimes, that came out very differently than the Mama we’ve known, and it’s been difficult to discern what is actually best for her. As a family, we’ve known that this injurious fall was probably what would happen, someday. We hoped that it wouldn’t. We knew the risks and wanted something different for her, but when all was said and done, we decided to allow Mama to decide on anything that she could. And this is one battle that she won, by virtue only of being THE MAMA.

But now it seems as if the fight is gone. To her, Heaven looks a whole lot better than rehab. How I wish it were possible to just bring her home to her house, her bird, her familiar kitchen. But, at least for now, that isn’t possible. We have hard decisions to make, for sure, and no solution is perfect. The one thing I am so immensely grateful for is that the six adult children of Mark and Alene Yoder are solidly together in the decisions already made. As Mama’s power of attorney, I’ve been blessed with the kind of support that many, many people only dream about. It has made everything so much easier. How very much I love my three brothers and two sisters and their generous spouses.

And we will keep watch and do what we can for her, pleading for creature comforts, praying for spiritual comfort and rest. She has been such a good Mama. We’ve been blessed far beyond what we deserve, and this upheaval, though overwhelming, is not without the grace of our Heavenly Father and Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He is neither surprised nor perplexed by the happenings of these last ten days. And He has been gracious in His provision, tender in His care, and present with us, His children.

My heart gives grateful praise.

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Tagged as Alene Yoder, broken femur, Elderly falls, Elderly parents, Falling, heart attack, hospitalization, infection, keeping watch, Memories, pneumonia, Sweet Mama

April 22, 2015 · 9:29 pm

First Hummer and Thoughts of Grace

The wind is blowing wild, wild. The rain, like a cloud of mist from my spray bottle when I’m ironing, blows around the shed, into the garden and across the yard at Shady Acres. I feel it smooth over my face as I scramble to cut the last few stalks of asparagus that can be called “ready.”

The house feels safe and dry and warm. Cecilia rocks to the gentle music of Fisher Prices “Baby’s First Hymns” in her chair and I call my Sweet Mama to see if it is raining there. We chat about the surprise storm and then, suddenly–!

“Oh, there’s a hummingbird!” My Mama’s voice is light and full of joy.

“Really???” I ask, almost enviously. I’ve been looking for hummers for a couple of days, and even put two feeders up last evening, hoping to entice early scouts to our yard.

“Yes,” breathes my Sweet Mama. “And I don’t have any food in mine yet.”

I come out of the study into the kitchen and mosey on over to the window. At that very moment, a flash of green with a ruby red throat caught my eye as it made a dash for my most protected feeder on the deck. I catch my breath.

“Mama!” I say, almost unable to believe my eyes. “I have one, too! Just now! It’s the first one I’ve seen this season! I can’t believe it! I am so happy!!!”

He darted around for a lengthy amount of time for such a flighty little bird. He looked healthy and fit and ready for another summer. I wonder how he likes this unpredictable weather, even while noting that it probably was somewhat the weather that drew him to a stable source of sustenance. And I gave thanks for the unexpected gale.

The days since just before Easter have been tumultuous for this Delaware Grammy. Just hard decisions to make, trying to please the right people while not making enemies of the ones who may or may not have the right to speak to the situation. Wishing with all my heart to spend time with the Ohio grandchildren, but understanding that it just isn’t going to happen right now. I’m feeling keenly some losses, and also feeling sad over choices made that were not mine to make, but never the less, are still heavy on my heart. And there have been some difficult psychotic moments with Nettie and some trying, anxious moments with Cecilia. More than once, it has felt like gale force winds and blinding rain. Today, at a funeral for an old lady that I barely knew, I found myself crying and knew it had nothing to do with the funeral and everything to do with how life is on several fronts right now.

I watched that little hummer at the feeder, blown by the wind, but seemingly indifferent to it, and realized again how it is really all good! All these things that drive us to the stable source of soul sustenance are all good. And I do not need to fret or worry or be dismayed. The One who loves me and knows what I need is on the watch, and He will provide.

In my heart ring the lyrics of my Grandpa Dave Yoder’s favorite song:

If, on a quiet sea,
Toward Heav’n we calmly sail,
With grateful hearts, O God, to Thee,
We’ll own the fav’ring gale;
With grateful hearts, O God, to Thee,
We’ll own the fav’ring gale.
But should the surges rise,
And rest delay to come,
Blest be the tempest, kind the storm,
Which drives us nearer home;
Blest be the tempest, kind the storm,
Which drives us nearer home.
Soon shall our doubts and fears
All yield to Thy control;
Thy tender mercies shall illume
The midnight of the soul;
Thy tender mercies shall illume
The midnight of the soul.
Teach us, in every state,
To make Thy will our own;
And when the joys of sense depart,
To live by faith alone;
And when the joys of sense depart,
To live by faith alone.
~Lowell Mason

The sun is suddenly peeking out on this unpredictable day, and women I love are coming for our own small group while the men go to see Gary Burlingame. There will be kind words, prayers and encouragement.

These days are made better by these glimpses of glory, touches of grace.

My heart gives grateful praise.

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March 1, 2015 · 10:45 pm

Going through life on a slippery path

She came after church, hugged me and spoke encouraging words. She had no idea how desperately I needed to hear the very words she said. It made me cry, but it put a song in my heart that lasted through lunch and cleanup and filling bird feeders and now to my chair.

Through this week, as we’ve dealt with weather, Nettie’s medical procedures, stomach viruses, concern over Cecilia’s ongoing health issues, another fall of Sweet Mama’s, relationship issues, and disappointment over the choices of people we love, I’ve needed (many times over) to sing this song from our renewal meetings:

“If He hung the moon,
I KNOW He will help (me).
And if He holds the sparrow in flight,
He’ll hold (me), too.
Consider the lilies of the field —
How much more He loves (me).
In the beginning of time, (I) was on His mind —
When He hung the moon.

This afternoon, the ice is hanging from the leaves of the Magnolia tree, and trailing from the bird feeders, encasing the branches with a brittle sheen and making it very unattractive to do anything but stay inside. But I sit here in my chair beside the fire, and there are so many blessings to count.

*Three little people in my Sunday School Class who make me laugh, inspire me to prepare, and cause my heart to swell with love whenever I think about them.

*That good, good husband of mine who has looked after the affairs of not only our own house and land, but that of others as well this past week. This morning he gave me a compliment on an outfit that I’ve been insecure about ever since my Sweet Mama told me that it didn’t “do much for you.” He also called someone to fill in for him at church duties so he could stay home with the sick and afflicted and I would have a chance to get out and to teach my littles and be with our church family. How very much I needed that!

*This afternoon, for the first time since MONDAY, Cecilia picked up her own spoon, fed herself, cleaned up her plate and drank her sweet tea by herself and kept everything down. This is a blessing of monumental proportions.

*Because Certain Man stayed home this morning, his friend Gary rode to church with me. The roads were precarious driving home. I was slow. Gary spoke not a single murmuring word. He acted glad that I was going slow. All the way home, I wondered how in the world Gary was going to motor up the walk to his house with the slippery conditions, his cane and his Bible, and I was trying to think how I could assist our tall friend into the safety of his front door. I dreaded the cold and ice and being responsible for his safety, because if the truth be told, this old gal is a vain thing for her own safety under such conditions. We pulled up to his back walk and I looked at the expanse betwixt the van and the door and my heart sank.

“Gary, how are you going to get in there?” I asked with great reservation.

“Oh, I’ll be alright. Just let me off here, and then you can go on out there and turn around and go.”

“I know, but Gary, it’s slippery. I don’t think you should walk that alone!”

He opened the door and started to unfold his lanky self. “I’ll be okay,” he reiterated. “If I can just get myself out of here–” He struggled with getting his feet over the edge of the door because the knee he had replaced just doesn’t work right. “I’ll be careful!”

He got himself out and collected his Bible, and planted his feet firmly in the snow, supporting himself with the dependable cane. I held my breath as he took one baby step after another. I could just see him crashing down in the wet, cold snow. How would I explain to Elaine? He inched his way along and finally made it to the front door. Relief swept over me as I saw him grasp the handrail on the steps leading into the house. He struggled a bit with the knob, but then it opened. Whew! He made it! This also made my heart sing!

So there are ample reasons on this wet, cold, dark evening to offer grateful praise.

So this, then, I will chose.

A grateful heart.

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Tagged as Certain Man, counting blessings, encouragement, my littles, snowy days, Sunday School

January 14, 2015 · 2:34 am

Of Laundry Lights and Wifely Plights and Husband’s Might

The light in our laundry room has been intent on driving me crazy! For about a year it has been unreliable just often enough to make me threaten it and even sometimes whack it a time or two with a wooden spoon. Following such displays of power, it usually would straighten up and fly right for a while. But increasingly, over the last few months, it has not responded to authority. I have stood at the light switch and turned it off and on and off and on for great lengthy sessions of gentle persuasion, and until just before the New Year, it would eventually come on. But alas, I seem to have lost my touch. Certain Man never needed “The Touch” it seemed. Have any of you ever noticed how things work properly for the man of the house? And malfunction with annoying regularity when they are nowhere to be found?

A few weeks ago marked a change in the light’s entire demeanor and attitude. We had a few days of dimming and brightening, then some of that dreadful buzz, and finally NOTHING. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I really cannot function without a light in my laundry room. I ~~complained loudly and lengthily~~ mentioned it to Certain Man, and he found the sudden (!) demise unacceptable, too. However, it chose to go out at an inopportune time and there was interference to fixing it, due to schedules and weekends, etc.. So I hauled a spare lamp in from the family room, put a nice, bright replacement bulb into it and “made do” with what I had.

Certain Man took the light apart and peered about at the innards of the receptacle. He determined that there were some serious problems with the mechanism, but also that one of the long bulbs was burnt out. He stood at the door of the laundry room and weighed his options.

“I think I will go into ACE Hardware and see what they have for a replacement light,” he finally decided. “I can buy replacement bulbs for this one and it would probably work, but maybe not right. I kinda’ think I would be happier with replacing the light.”

I was okay with whatever he decided. I was sure that it would result in illumination of my laundry room, and I didn’t much care how he did it as long as it got done. He went out and came trudging back with two new light bulbs. ACE Hardware didn’t have any replacement lights that pleased him. He put the new bulbs in, tried the switch, and lo! And behold! LIGHT! I was ecstatic. But he wasn’t. He said, “We are going to have to replace that light. It just has too much wrong with it. I have a gift card to Lowes. Maybe I will run in there one of these days and see what they have.”

A few days later, he came home with a box from Lowes that said “florescent ceiling lamp” on it. I wondered whether he would put it up, or if he just had it on reserve in case he suddenly needed it. But then the light in the laundry room started acting up again. It was taking its sweet time about coming on, and when it did come on it was sometimes dim.

“I don’t know, Sweetheart,” I said to him the other day. “That light in the laundry room isn’t acting right. It takes a while to come on and its just not right somehow.”

“I know,” he said, looking thoughtful. “I guess I am just going to have to change it.”

Over the next few days, I thought about it occasionally, especially when I moved the box to get something out of the closet in the entryway. It honestly didn’t bother me very much. Certain Man has been operating with four stitches in one finger, has gotten new chickens, and has been especially busy with deacon calls because of the extreme cold and Christmas and PEOPLE. (He has also been dealing with a beleaguering weariness that troubles me, though I do think that some late night watching of his favorite sport, FOOTBALL, and in particular, his beloved Buckeyes, could have something to do with that.) But I knew he would get it done sometime. Besides, once this faulty light was on, it did a fairly good job.

Then yesterday, I spent the day on Nettie, and besides that, pretty much just did what had to be done to get laundry washed, dried, folded and put away. I went to bed before Certain Man finished watching those Buckeyes win their game. This morning, I headed for Greenwood to pick up my Sweet Mama. She had a dentist appointment, needed to get her glasses repaired following a bad fall at church over a week ago, and wanted to look for a new recliner for the one she has that is literally “letting her down on the side.” We ate lunch and then I flew into Boscov’s to exchange some things from Cecilia’s’ Mother and sisters from Christmas. Then I took Mama back home, filled her med box, went through some mail, stopped some things off at my Aunt Freda’s for my mama, and then came home to Shady Acres.

The house was unusually dark. I peered through the dark laundry room, through the dark kitchen, on to the dark family room. Middle Daughter was in her father’s recliner, listening to music with Cecilia.

“Whew! It sure is dark in here!” I said as I came into the dark kitchen and flipped on a few lights. “Where’s Dad?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him,” said Middle Daughter. She seemed unconcerned.

“His truck is in the pavilion,” I said. “I saw it when I pulled into the lane.” I went out to check, and he was in the truck, talking to his sister. He seemed uninclined to talk to me, so I wandered back in and went to trade my boots for my sandals. I heard him come in.

“Where’s Mom?” I heard him ask Middle Daughter.

“I don’t know. She was here–”

“I’m here,” I said, coming around the corner.

They were both looking at me with “the look.” (I hate that look. It means I missed something very important.)

“You didn’t even notice, did you?” Questioned my long suffering spouse. “The light?”

“”I had all the lights turned off so she would turn it on,” said Deborah, “But she came on in and never even noticed.”

I turned to see the laundry room flooded with light. A clean, new, ~~gorgeous~~ efficient light was shedding a wonderful clear light all over the room, giving it a whole new brightness.

And I was properly grateful and delighted and grateful and delighted, and said so over and over because, in truth, I WAS!

And my heart gives grateful praise for a husband who looks so well to the ways of this household. I am so blessed.

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Tagged as Ceiling lights, Certain Man, family living

January 13, 2015 · 1:40 am

Our Girl Nettie has a Birthday

On a grey January day, we celebrated Our Girl Nettie’s birthday. She had an appointment in Lewes, and then we shopped for a new winter hat at Peebles with the 40 dollars that she had stowed in her sock-shaped change purse just before we left home. This was a big decision, but eventually we settled on a warm cowl-necked circular thing that she could pull up for a hood and she was satisfied. So was I. It looks very nice on her and the coloring is great for her hair.

And then it was off for her best surprise ever. On our way to Lewes, I had told her that there was going to be another surprise for her today. Earlier, she was so pleased with her new jeans and the birthday cards she had received, plus the whole church had sung “Happy Birthday” to her yesterday, to her great delight. But this was Monday morning, and it was rainy and it was cold and she was feeling grumpy. She looked at me with skepticism dripping from her body language like the rain that was dripping from the eaves of the garage as we backed out.

“A bad surprise or a good surprise?” she asked darkly.

“It’s a terrible surprise,” I responded brightly. “I’m gonna’ take you to the doctor and have your leg cut off!”

“Mare-Ann!!!” And she laughed. “I know ‘at ain’t right!”

“You’re right, it isn’t! I’m going to take you to the beauty parlor and have them shave off all your beautiful hair!”

“No, you’re not!” She was quick to respond. “Wha’ you sayin’ at for?”

“Nettie, have I ever planned a surprise for you that was ‘bad’?”

“No–”

“Well, then, why, when it is your birthday, would I be planning a ‘bad’ surprise for you?”

“I ‘on’t know.”

“Well, I’m not! This is a good surprise. You are going to love it!

“I ‘on’t know ’bout ‘at!”

“You will just have to trust me, but I know you will love it.”

And so we went to the doctor where we waited for almost two hours past our appointment, but then got in and got out in a little bit of no time, stopped at Peebles and now were headed to Cracker Barrel, where (at least I hoped) the surprise would be waiting. She knew about going out to eat for her birthday, but she didn’t know about who might be there.

We pulled up to Cracker Barrel at 12 noon. I got OGN’s walker and noticed someone waving at me from a car just across the lane. Good! Nettie came around the back of the car and got her walker and headed out to towards the restaurant. But just as she started, her sister, her only sister, stepped out of the car and began to walk towards her.

“Nettie,” I said to my gal, who was heading out across the parking lot at great speed. “Look who is here!”

She stopped, and looked disbelievingly at her beloved sister. As it registered, I thought she was going to cry.

“Sally! It’s Sally!” She squealed in disbelief. She covered the short distance between the two of them and grabbed her in a big hug over the top of her precious walker. “How did you know to come here???”

Sally laughed and told her a big story about just pulling into the parking lot and suddenly seeing her, but Nettie, caught in the intense emotion of the moment neither listened nor believed. The truth was, I had invited Sally last week and decided not to tell Nettie in case something happened at the last minute to mess the plans up.

What a grand time we had, talking and laughing and eating in the big room at Cracker Barrel with the fire burning so brightly. I learned things about Our Girl Nettie’s family that I had never known, and Nettie reveled in the presence of her sister and this “best gift” — that her sister came to Lewes to surprise her for her birthday. When the waitress brought a piece of Coca Cola cake and some ice cream and had some of the staff sing “Happy Birthday” to her, Nettie’s delight was complete.

Then we finished up, and when I went to pay the bill, Sandra already had it in her possession. “I’ve got this,” she said. “I have a gift card and I want to pay it. You can leave the tip, but I am going to pay.” We had some discussion, causing her to produce the card to prove that she did, in fact, have it in her possession, and I finally gave in. “Besides,” she said, smiling across the table at Nettie, “It’s Nettie’s birthday and I don’t have a present. This is something I can do for her!” This pleased Nettie exceedingly much and we gathered our belongings, and headed home.

The rain pelted down, and the day was grey, but beside me in the mini-van, Nettie rode happily and contentedly. Such a happy day for Our Girl Nettie. She told me tonight that it was her happiest birthday ever.

“Ever?” I asked. “When you were a little girl, didn’t your Mama make cake for your birthday?”

“Yeah, she did. Had birfday cake,” she acknowledged.

“So those were happy birthdays, weren’t they?”

“Yeah, ‘ey were happy.”

“So this maybe wasn’t the happiest birthday ever, but maybe it was the happiest for a long, long time?”

“You got ‘at right. It was because I got to see my sister.” And she smiled her sweet smile.

Happy Birthday, Our Girl Nettie. I hope you have a grand many more!

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December 31, 2014 · 4:32 pm

My Favorite Book

On this December 31st morning, at 10:24, I finished reading my favorite book one more time.

People have sometimes wondered how many times I’ve read this book in my lifetime. I honestly don’t know. I do know that I have tried to read it through once a year for most of the years of my adult life. But I honestly don’t know how often that has been.

There is something I do know! And that is this: No other effort of my life has changed me so intrinsically as This WORD from a Holy, Loving God. And even though I’ve been warned that there is no force of hidden power or protection or daily assistance in this “habitual reading,” I beg to differ.

People say that days only seem to go better, things only seem to work out for good, life only seems to be smoother because I’ve conditioned myself to believe that.

I beg to differ.

Nothing I can say will change the minds of the scoffers, the skeptics, the dissenters. I can only speak what I have experienced. And that is an incredible grace, given to an ordinary Delaware Grammy through the discipline of reading HIS WORD. I don’t do it perfectly. I sometimes don’t think carefully about what I’m reading. Sometimes I prop my head up on my hand on my side of our bed and “get through” — so sleepily I’ve almost fallen out a time or two — or three or four. Sometimes I find myself needing to catch up when the busy days crop up against each other and I find myself behind.

But most of the time, when I sit at the counter in my kitchen and read the timeless words, the age-old principles, the life-giving doctrine, the inspiring poetry, the laments, the praises, the Godly instruction and even the reproof, I find important things that help me through the maze that is my life. Through the anxiety, through the sorrow, though the demands of those who depend upon me, through the things I do not understand, through the interruptions, and through the good, good times, this Book tells the story of redemption and LIFE through the Son of God. I’m here to tell you. JESUS makes all the difference.

^{John 20:31} But these things are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in His name.

I believe!

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December 25, 2014 · 4:58 pm

Merry Christmas, 2014

Christmas, 2014 * Shady Acres Farm * 7484 Shawnee Road * Milford * DE * 19963

Merriest Christmas Greetings to YOU and your family,
“For unto you is born this day. . . a SAVIOR, which is CHRIST, the LORD. Glory to GOD in the highest, and on earth PEACE, GOODWILL to men.”
Isn’t it wonderful how our days are so filled with the things of living in ways that we cannot miss the hand of our incredible God? What a year it has been for the family at Shady Acres as well as people we love! The things that have always been important continue to be what matters – faith, family and friends, but in the accessories (to all three) it has been “pedal down, throttle open, bumpy road” all year long. Some of those bumps have been difficult to maneuver, but some have been gloriously, giddily exciting adventures.
We said good-bye to family members this year. In April, Ariel Joy, 16-month old daughter of nephew Jeremy and his wife, Cheryl, succumbed to Spinal Muscular Atrophy (a genetic disorder). Ariel Joy Yoder. Girlie with the smile that lit up a room and eyes that never stopped communicating. She has left a space behind that will always be “Ariel-shaped” but her true legacy is that of Grace, bigger than unanswered prayer, bigger than disappointment and loss, bigger than a little grave in a country cemetery here in Delaware. Our God is GOOD.
Throughout the year, we watched with uneasy concern the ongoing battle that our sister in law, Frieda, was fighting with breast cancer that had metastasized. Though there were many happy days, and even weeks that it looked like Frieda was going to be well, in the early autumn, things deteriorated rapidly and at the end of October, she went quietly into the presence of the Lord Jesus that she loved so much. Frieda Ann Yoder. Beloved wife, dedicated mom and loving Mimi. The grief is still too fresh for me. I rejoice in her victory, and I believe in God’s incredible timing, but it feels like she was so valuable to her family and to God’s Kingdom, that I don’t even pretend to understand.
The latest difficult bump in the road has affected the church family that meets at the white church building known as Laws Mennonite Church. In the early morning hours of December 2, two young men vandalized and burned three churches in rural Kent County, Delaware. One of those churches was ours. The response of the church family was disbelief, shock, and sorrow. The ensuing days have proven the resiliency, resourcefulness and optimistic mindset of this congregation. We’ve been blessed with unity, a sense of family and the will to survive as a flock with The Shepherd. We’ve also been blessed with an outpouring of prayers, love, offers for help, even monetary gifts from the community and the larger church family. It has certainly been a case where something that was meant for evil has been (and will be) used for our good. We believe that God wants to work redemption through this hard, sad and malicious event in our lives, and the attitudes of our brothers and sisters have been encouraging.
*   I said that some of the bumps in the road were exciting adventures. Yes!!! There are a few of them, as well. Perhaps the biggest news of the year in our lives as a family has been the addition of three Yutzy grandsons. In September, Raph & Regina adopted Simon, (age 4) Liam, (age 3) and Frankie (age 2). The boys have been a part of our family since February of 2013 and finalizing the legalities was celebration time, indeed. The boys have all had birthdays since then so they are 5, 4, and 3. They have certainly changed life for Raph and Gina and for the rest of us, as well. Raph is working for The Little Cottage Company in sales part time and was also hired by Grace Mennonite Church as Director of High School Ministries (also a part time position). Gina spends most of her time being a mommy, but works one day a week at 61 Surplus, a non-profit industry that gives all of its proceeds to help orphans. The answers to prayer that are embodied in Raph and Regina’s family are exciting and energizing. This is a “God Story” that has so many chapters already. With deep gratitude, we acknowledge that God has been using many, many people to “write” this story, and it is wondrous in our eyes. It is also far from finished.
*       Adding the three grandsons has given our only granddaughter, Charis, three new cousins. She has three little boy cousins on the Bontrager side of the family as well. When asked by someone if she had any siblings, she said with great discouragement, “No . . .” She thought a little bit and then said, “Just a whole bunch of boy cousins.” Well, yes, I guess that would about size things up. Boy cousins or not, we would hate to be without the influence of this girlie. She continues to make our lives so interesting, has an undying loyalty and affection for her Grandpa, is overjoyed with sleepovers at ‘Grammy’s house,” and is growing much too fast. Christina & Jesse stay busy with their lives. Jesse celebrated 20 years of employment at Burris Foods (he’s not old enough, is he?) where he serves as a Systems Engineer. Christina is a stay at home mom and babysits two days a week for Kate. Charis is in Kindergarten this year, so the family schedule has changed somewhat in these last few months. Christina recently started a coffee bar for our church on Sunday mornings which has been very well received. She enjoys people so much, and Jesse is supportive of her efforts.
*      Deborah continues to work for Delaware Hospice evenings, nights, and weekends. She has spent a good part of this year planning for the trip of a lifetime with her Aunt Lena – a cruise to Antarctica! They set out for this grand adventure in early November and returned almost three weeks later. She had a wonderful time! The pictures are phenomenal, the stories mesmerizing, and her memories rich and impressive. From doing a polar bear plunge into water that was actually below freezing, to sleeping on the ice without a tent, to waddling with penguins, she did everything that she possibly could– partly just to say that she did it! She came home to reality, went right back to work and in the last few weeks, has been an integral liaison between our congregation and the cleanup crew that is working at the church. She has kept the church family informed with pictures and reports and encouraged good feelings on the part of the work crew by conversation, encouragement and even buying them lunch on one of the last days they were planning to be there.
*      Lem & Jess are still in Alexandria, VA. Jessica continues to work in the Department of Veterans’ Affairs in Washington, D.C., with many opportunities to use her brain and her skills in the challenges of her position. She was delighted with an opportunity to travel to Italy for a few days with some girlfriends in late October. It was a great time of exploring, rejuvenation and renewal. You can imagine that Lem was really glad to have her home again. Lem transferred from the doctoral program at Bryn Mawr to the one at the The Catholic University of America in Washington, DC. He continues to work as a behavioral therapist at Alvord, Baker and Associates, a counseling firm with offices in Silver Spring and Rockville, MD. They still live in the apartment they first rented when they moved to the area, and it has been sufficient for them. They brought some people to Shady Acres for an early Thanksgiving dinner, and we enjoyed learning to know some of their friends. They are involved in a small church that is just finding its way from a very recent beginning. It is exciting to see the way things are working out.
*       Rachel graduated from Cedarville University in Ohio with her degree in Social Work in May, and by the end of June, she was in Philadelphia, PA, beginning the same year long Master’s program that Lem graduated from in 2010. She found housing with one of Lem’s classmates and began an internship at Joseph J. Peters Institute as a clinical therapist with sexually abused and traumatized children. Her life has had one of the most bumpy rides of any of us emotionally as she has dealt with the injustices that has been dealt to so many of the people of our society that are marginalized – the children and women of poverty that are so often the victims of humanity that has gone so wrong. She has also dealt with loneliness in the big city with few close friends and grief, being affected by the family deaths, and also illness in the lives of people she loves. Rachel still is unsure of where this next year will lead her, as she weighs job opportunities over the college debt that she has accumulated. Those of you who know Rachel will understand that the “not knowing” is very difficult for this girlie who likes to plan and likes to know what is happening next. Whatever it is that God is doing in her life at this juncture is going to be valuable and will equip her for whatever it is that He is calling her to do. As her parents, we are confident in God’s timing and Rachel’s ability to discern what is best, and for that – we pray!
*      And Daniel and I are doing much of the same things we’ve always done. Daniel has stepped down from his role as the head of the leadership team and is taking a six month sabbatical from all church duties except being the Deacon. He certainly is less stressed in this capacity and it is good. He has almost 14 years with the state of Delaware, and continues to plan to be there for a few more years. He raises chickens and keeps this farm in shape. We both can tell that we aren’t as young as we once were. Nettie and Cecilia are still a part of our household, but both of them are showing signs of aging. My Sweet Mama has had a very turbulent year health wise, and we continue to seek the best way to care for her while giving her the independence she wants. What a courageous and resourceful woman she is!
So now you know at least some of what is happening at Shady Acres! We are so blessed!
Blessings to you and yours for the coming New Year.
~ Daniel and Mary Ann Yutzy

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December 8, 2014 · 2:22 am

The Stroke

He sits in a wheel chair, a stocking cap on his thin white hair. His hands, once so busy and given to expansive motion, will not do his bidding. His eyes are alive and expressive and he tries so hard to communicate. I am sitting beside him in the hospital room, and trying so hard to understand.

“I think–” he starts to say, then stops, confused. He tries to form more words. “I think–”

I wait. He shakes his head despairingly and then tries again, “I would say — .” He looks at me helplessly and lapses into silence. The sequence is repeated over and over.

I smile and tell him stories about Rachel, our youngest daughter, who is my connection to this man. Stories about papers and professors and accolades and anxieties. He listens eagerly and smiles and tries to talk again. “I think –” he begins, and then with conviction, “I think that I think!”

That makes me laugh. “Oh, J–! I know you think. That mind of yours never stops. I know that you think about a LOT of things.”

He smiles again, and I make conversation. He says an occasional “yes” and “no.” And then I take his face into my hands and look into his faded eyes and I talk to him about the gifts that have been given him through no effort of his own — his good mind, and how he has used it to help his fellow man. I tell him that it truly was a gift, entrusted to him by God and that he has helped so many people with his brilliant mind. I am just warming up to saying some specific God words to this man who has spurned so many of God’s instructions, and hasn’t trusted Jesus for his salvation. He has sometimes said things that indicate that his hope is that the good he’s done will outweigh the bad. And he has done so much good. Our family, especially Rachel, have been blessed abundantly by his kindness. So I wanted to tell him about the best gift that can be his — just for the taking. I remind him that he is very loved, and that he doesn’t need words to talk to Jesus. When no one else can understand what he is trying to say, Jesus knows his heart and he can talk to Him.

And then we are interrupted by a speech therapist. It is time for him to have his lunch, and time for me to leave. His eyes look at me pleadingly, and I stoop to kiss his leathery old cheek. It is wet with tears. I taste the salt as I turn to go.

The days are long, the future is so uncertain, the conflict around him intense. I cannot bear to look back as I leave. So much of his business unfinished. So much important still undone. Though he is in his eighties, he always thought that he had more time. How little any of us know what will be tomorrow. How quickly life can change.

“Oh, Lord Jesus. May your love invade his conscious thought, his complex heart. And may the presence of Jesus be so real to him that he cannot escape it. May his restless heart find peace. Please, Lord Jesus. Have mercy on us all. In a world gone so wrong, how desperately we need the Savior that the angels announced that Holy night. Peace on earth, goodwill towards men? Lord Jesus, may it be so.”

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