Category Archives: Uncategorized

It’s been another cold week in Delaware.  Certain Man was sick when the snow fell last week, and he didn’t get the lane scraped.  He thought it was going to snow again and he would just do it all at once.  The only problem was, there were state buses and many different cars and pickups going in and out and that first snow got packed pretty hard on the area right in front of the garage.  Some days the sun would come out a little and melt the top enough to make glare ice when the sun went down.

And then, he was right!  It did snow again.  That is, it snowed again after it sleeted and put some more ice on top of the old ice.  So bright and early on Wednesday morning, Certain Man got out his trusty tractor and pushed the little bit of snow around that was out there so the lane was somewhat clearer.  But that ice, right in front of the garage, stayed right where it was — only slicker and thicker because of the sleet that had fallen on it.

In the mornings, when putting Cecilia and Nettie on the bus, Certain Man’s Wife would look at that thick layer of ice and could almost see one of them crashing down in disarray and disaster.  The bus drivers weren’t happy either.  CMW explained to them that it was because Certain Man had been sick, but it seemed to be falling on unsympathetic ears.  It was beginning to concern her.  What would be the liability if one of the drivers slipped?  And what would happen if one of the ladies went down?  None of these scenarios seemed to be such that it would simplify her life any.  She thought she had seen some salt or ice melt in the garage, but a careful search had turned up nothing.  And since there is no longer a cat in the house at Shady Acres, there was no kitty litter, either.

CMW likes to be warm and dry.  She likes the pellet stove to run without interruption, and though it isn’t her favorite thing to do, she is well able to carry the 40 pound bags of pellets that supply the large holding area in the stove.  It comforts her greatly that Certain Man is very conscientious about keeping a supply of pellets in the garage, off the floor and easily accessible at the top of the ramp that comes into the back door.  A bag lasts a little less than 24 hours in this cold, cold weather, so it is inevitable that, some of the time at least, CMW needs to carry pellets and fill the stove.  Lately it seems like it is all the time. 

It seems like the job of cleaning out the ash tray at the bottom of the stove is also her responsibility.  The very efficiently burned pellets make a fine, dust type ash that pushes out of the chamber and falls into the tray.  Depending on the type of pellets, it hangs over the edge of the burn chamber like a blackened clump of snow, hanging off the roof of the chicken house.  When this happens, whomever is tending the stove takes the pointed claw-type thingy that came with the stove and scrapes it off and into the usually overflowing tray so that the fire can burn a little more efficiently.   It usually makes a bit of mess when the burn chamber is cleaned, but a greater mess is almost always forthcoming when the ash tray gets cleaned because, unfortunately, it seems like Certain Man and CMW tend to wait on each other to do it  — and it gets quite full, indeed.

So, today, CMW was alone in her house — a rarity, and not unpleasant at all, to be truthful.  She had turned down an invitation to go shopping and was pretty tickled about being able to stay in.  And then she noticed that her fire was going out.  She needed to carry pellets.  Then she noticed that the ashes were hanging over the edge of the burn chamber and that the ash tray was overflowing into the bottom of the stove.  That was when she got a bright idea.  What would happen if she were to spread those ashes over that thick pad of ice in front of the garage?  She went to fetch her bag of pellets while she pondered.  H-m-m-m-m-m.  This just might be a good idea!  Whenever she cleans the ash pan, she always just dumps the ashes into the empty pellet bag to carry out, so it would really not be much trouble to just dump it out over the ice.

She hauled the bag of pellets in to the family room and plunked them down on the hearth.  Certain Man always keeps a scissors on the mantel for opening the bags of pellets and she cut off the end and hoisted it up and began pouring it into the hopper.  Suddenly there was the sound of a great spilling of pellets.  Oh, dear!  CMW rutched the bag around and peered under it to see what was going on.  “Oh, dear!” is right!!!  Somehow the bag had caught on the edge of the stove and there was a tear in the side of it close to the bottom and pellets were pouring out at an alarming rate.  CMW stuffed her hand into the hole to stem the tide, and finished pouring the bag into the stove.  Suddenly, a familiar stench accosted her nostrils that made her stomach turn.  Cat pee.  Male cat pee.  Whoo-hee!  Some male cat had found this bag somewhere and marked his territory but good!  And CMW had been hugging that bag with all her might.  So.  Guess what (who) else was smelling like cat pee???

CMW wrapped the bag up good, and went over to the large family trash can to see if there was a bag there from the previous fill.  There was.  So she discarded the torn bag and went back to the family room and emptied the ash pan into the large pellet bag.  When everything was in order, and the stray pellets brushed together and picked up from the floor and the hearth and the stove was steadily burning, she washed the offensive smell off her hands and forearms and changed her clothes.  Then she proceeded to the outdoors and attempted to scatter the ashes over the ice pad in front of the garage.  That was almost an exercise in futility.  The ash was such a fine dust (see paragraph #5) and the wind was just strong enough that most of it blew away and ended up against the white siding of the farmhouse. 

“Certain Man will not appreciate that!”  Thought CMW, just a little bit ruefully.  She looked at the muddy looking mess the ashes (that had managed to go where they were supposed to!) were making on the top of the ice and it began to dawn on her fur brain that there might be something else that Certain Man wouldn’t appreciate.  He had just gotten his driveway sealed before the cold weather set in and CMW was suddenly concerned.  “This might not have been the best idea,” she admitted, feeling guilty.  “What do I do now?”

What she did then was to go back into the house and tried to forget about it.  It was still morning.  The sun hadn’t moved to that side of the house and who knew what might happen when the sun hit it?  Besides there were things on her “to do” list that needed attention.  But it kept nagging at the back of her brain, so a little before two o’clock she decided to go and check on things out there.  The sun was shining brightly, but that ice pad in front of the garage looked pretty much the way it had three hours earlier.  CMW decided to have a go at it with the snow shovel. 

At first the going was tough.  And the sturdy snow shovel just couldn’t move the ice.  But as CMW kept chopping and hacking away, slowly, slowly, the ice started to chip off and let go.  CMW began to feel a little bit cheerful.  Chop, chop, chop.  Shovel, shovel, shovel.  The progress actually began to impress her.  “I could be paying someone to do this, ” she thought.  “I wonder what Daniel would have been willing to pay someone to do this?”  And she began to hold imaginary conversations in her head with her better half concerning the dangerous situation if the ice wasn’t removed and how much he may have been willing to pay to have the ice removed if someone did a really careful job, etc., etc., etc., until the job was suddenly done!  The ice was all gone and with it the ashes. (Which, incidentally had seemed to have a sort of reverse effect on the ice.  Where there was a liberal sprinkling of ashes, it seemed like the ice had gotten harder and adhered to the blacktop and didn’t want to come loose!)  It was getting colder, and even though the sun was still shining, it felt like it was time to get inside.

CMW took one last look at the clean area and was very content.  If Cecilia or Nettie or even one of the drivers fell now, it wouldn’t be because the area hadn’t been cleared off.  That felt a whole lot better to CMW.

And she went into the house to get a cup of hot coffee.

Back when Oldest Son was in Nepal, I wrote the following after talking to him one evening. 

We talked to him tonight.
Half a world away.
I’d guess you’d say
“A world away.”
If he were any further,
He’d be getting closer,
Around the rim of the world.

I hear it in his voice.
I know he thinks that I don’t
But I do.  He hangs on at the end
Like the child that doesn’t
want to hang up.
I get off the phone and cry.
My Son, My Son.

They say he will be home
Before we know it.
It’s already too late for that.
They say he is safe.
And I know that when he’s
In the Father’s hands
He may not be kept from harm
But he is safe.

I wish that I could see his eyes.
They’ve always told me
What was in his heart.
I remember days when the
Joy could not be contained.
I remember days when the hurt,
Stark. devastating. bewildering,
Lay smoldering there.

What is in your heart tonight, Son?
Are you simply enduring to the end?
(There’s virtue in that, if it’s the best you can do).
Is there hope?  Plans for the future?  Praise?
Do you have purpose for your days?
Do you sleep carefree at nights?
Do you see this as something more
Than something to “get through?”

Do not let the moment slip you by.
Do not waste these days of adventure and opportunity.
Do not forget why you are on this earth
Do not miss the reason for your absence from home.
Do not neglect the gifts you’ve been given to expand The Kingdom.
Do not back off from service.

And though I cry — and miss you so much,
I am so proud of you.  I pray for you.
I remember the bright-eyed baby
That I held on my shoulder and believed
That you were spared for a purpose.
And that God would do great things through you.
And most of all,  I will always love you.

Last night, we skyped with Rachel.  We have such an incredible provision to see her face and listen to the inflection in her voice and actually be able to know what she is looking like when she talks to us.  It is such a blessing to this Momma’s heart.  But it makes the spaces of our home so empty when we close the connection.

And that’s another thing.  When we close the connection.  Like her brother before her, Rachel hates to be the one to say “good-bye.”  We say our “I love you’s” and “We’re praying for you’s” and “We’re so proud of you’s” and “We miss you’s” at least once and then we say them again. 

And then she says her famous, “I will NOT break this connection.  I CAN’T!!!  You are gonna’ have to do it.  I just cannot make myself do it!”

This Momma has learned the hard way that when something needs to be done, and no one else will do it, sometimes you need to steel yourself, harden your heart and do it. 

Like those many years ago when there were chickens to butcher and no one would do the Dastardly Deed of cutting their throats.  I remember a line of chickens, hung up by their feet, waiting for The Knife.  Certain Man claimed ignorance.  He also claimed that it was too hard on his heart.  (I know him well enough to know it was . . .)  But someone had to do, and so I made sure the butcher knife was sharp enough to shave hair off an arm, and I did what I saw my Daddy do so often — except that I closed my eyes while I did it.  And I got it done, even while a little part inside of me died, and that part that died, turned to stone.

Last night, I looked at that “end call” button and knew that someone had to do it.  I reached out my finger when it could no longer be delayed by one more “I love you” and pushed it hard.

It felt like I was putting a razor sharp knife against her vibrant life.  One instant, her image was there, the next, the image was gone.

I shut the computer and turned away.

Whatever was in my heart hadn’t died, hadn’t turned to stone.

It hurt too much for too long.

And that was (almost) comforting.

I’m off to Grampa and Grammy’s house.

So many things to get into there!

And, NO, I don’t want to play with the toys!

Grammy, can you find something for me to do???

Well now, this looks interesting!

H-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m, I can pretend I can make letters —

I know “F”  and “A” and “P” (and some more that I can’t remember right now).

If only I could make them just the way they look on Mommy’s refrigerator.

ALL DONE!!

I think I will go see if I can get into a manger scene somewhere . . .

This is one view that I took before I got started yesterday —

And this is how it looked when I got done with this one area —

I made even more progress than this, but this is the one area that I got completely finished.

Today I made a big pot of Beef and Barley soup.  Youngest Son and His Girl were here for a
few hours, and tonight I’ve been trying to wrap up loose ends, get ready for Sunday School Class,
finish cleaning up the kitchen, etc..  Usual Saturday night stuff.

I was lugging a big plastic container of wrapping paper from the study to the top of the basement
stairs this morning, and I came around the corner, and saw Certain Man on his La-Z-boy where he
has spent most of the last three days, sick.  I looked out the window, saw the wonderful snow and
without thinking, caught myself smiling.  Unfortunately, Certain Man was watching at that moment,
and must have thought that I was happy that he was sick!

“WHAT?!?!!??” he demanded from his chair, startling me out of my wits!  I looked over at him in
his misery and thought how it must have felt to him to feel so miserable, and have me look over at
him and smile.

“Oh, um,” I stammered, wondering how I could explain to him why I was feeling so happy this morning.
“Well, it’s just that I’m happy,” I said lamely.  “It’s snowing and my husband is home and it just
makes me happy!”  I kept on lugging the heavy container towards its destination, and he looked like
I had taken leave of my senses, but he kinda shook his head, and settled back into his chair for another
nap, and I went on with my morning chores.

I’m really rather tired of him being sick.  But knowing him as well as I do, I know that he is far more
tired of it than I am.  He got a little bit antsy this afternoon, and wanted to go out and scrape his lane.
I advised against it, and he took my advice without too much fuss.  That is one thing that tells me that
he really is feeling bad.  The hardest thing is when a husband is almost well enough to do what he wants
to do, BUT NOT QUITE, and then does too much and gets a real set-back.  And there is a
CERTAIN MAN who is rather famous for such shenanigans.  So I was rather happy to have him just
take it easy all day. 

I’m going to see what else I can quick finish up tonight —
Sunday is almost here, and I do love me some Sunday!

Okay,  you all–

You had better pray for me!

I’m cleaning my study!

This involves lots of giving things away,
Sorting through things–
Organizing what can be organized,
Putting things where they belong,
Throwing things out,
Recycling some stuff,
And sending things to Salvation Army.

Oh, and getting rid of some books.
  There is just no sense in keeping
some of these old books,
(much as I love to look at them).

I did take some “before” pictures,
But I think I’ll put the “after” ones on later.

My Grandmother Wert used to say that any dirt we took into the New Year
would stay with us all year.

If that’s true, I’m in trouble this year!

One more thing:  I found two ink cartridges (hp 96 – black, and hp 97 – tri-color)
that someone can have for the taking.
They are still in their original plastic sleeves that are sealed, but not the outer packaging. 
We got rid of the printer and these are of no use to us at all.
Let me know if you are interested!

We took the table down.

Certain Man suddenly began pulling it apart, and taking out the many boards.  I watched as he took it all the way down to the usual single board, and then he asked about the tablecloth.  I fetched the flannel backed padding from the study where I had carelessly folded it and laid it haphazardly on a box that held stuff that needed sorting.   While he spread it out, I went and searched out a tablecloth for the suddenly smaller dimensions.  We smoothed it down, and it looked crisp and non-themed.  I was working at things in the kitchen, so I returned to my chores there, and saw that he brought the two chairs back to the family room that get relegated to the living room when we open the table.  He put the round berry tea light holder over the small glass manger scene that fits so perfectly on the inside of the ring, and set the two Home Interior wooden sconce holders with votive cups on either end.  And then he lit the candles.  I watched with a sense of gratefulness, as he carefully lit six tea lights and two votive candles.  I looked over at them twinkling in the shadows, and knew he was feeling like things were getting back to normal.  It was comforting and reassuring.

“It’ s kinda nice to have things back in place, isn’t it?”  I ventured bravely.  He’s been a little unpredictable these last couple days (weeks or months would be more like it).  I think he’s grieving, though he isn’t really aware of it, and I thought he was getting sick.  A bad sore throat, and general weariness.  He was scheduled to preach last Sunday and when the snow stopped it, he decided to keep the sermon for this Sunday, even though it had a Christmas theme.  He particularly liked this sermon, though preaching is hard for him.  He never feels good on the Saturday before he’s to bring the message, and I suspect all the things out of kilter around here haven’t helped any.

“It sure is!” He responds with feeling.  “It is high time!”  I think again about the days that are passed, and wonder what is really in his heart.

The table has been big for a long, long time.  It sat in our dining/family room for many days with the extra boards in it, and some days, it was pulled out the full thirteen feet.  The people we love gather around it,and there is pleasant conversation, food of the Season and peace.  This year, since putting up the Thankful wall, we’ve had Early Christmas, Youngest Son’s house church group, the Yoder cousins to visit when we had revivals with a relative from Illinois.  We had the office open house, we had cookie baking day, we had Christmas Eve, we had New Years Eve, (and probably some I forget) and every time the table got pulled open and most of the time, stretched its full length.  Sometimes I didn’t take it down because of how soon the next event was taking place.  The table is a wonderful thing for big events, but it seems to hamper family togetherness in every day living.  I was glad to see it come down for that reason.   And I suspect that Certain Man was tired of walking around it to his favorite chair. I’m also glad because, with all the wonderful times we’ve had with friends and family this season, I have MISSED my girlie so much.  I hate it that I still cry at least once every day.  I was going to be wise and cheery and upbeat and proud and supportive and optimistic and an inspiration to my fellow man and patient and thoughtful and GODLY (Don’t forget GODLY) about it all.  But I’m not.  I am struggling with a sadness that I can’t seem to shake and I realized that the relief I felt when the table came down was a pretty good indication that I have some “soul work” to do.

And so, today, I am sorta’ digging out.  Packing a box for my girlie, trying to do laundry, trying to get the weekend and some of the season mess straightened up, trying to set some goals for the next weeks. And remembering that every passing day is one day closer HOME, not only for my girlie to be back with us again, but for us to be HOME to Heaven.

That means I cannot afford to neglect what is of eternal value.  I cannot allow distractions to take root in my thoughts and keep me from concentrating on what is good.  I cannot allow what feels like a justifiable sadness to color all of life with its malevolent darkness.  There is too much at stake.

What does God’s word say about this?  Something about “the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness” and “Oil of Joy for mourning?”

It would appear that the best solution for this situation is to begin to “Get dressed!”

Garment of praise, would you clothe me in joy?

Some of you have gotten this, some did not.
(We have begun paring down our list — with more to be taken off next year.)
This is this years edition for those who are interested.

Dear Family and Friends,                                                                                                                         Christmas, 2010

It is a gray day in Delaware.  The sky is hanging close to the tops of the tree farm outside the family room window and
it looks like it could start to dump buckets of snow any minute.  The nation has been wrapped in a cold snap that is vicious, and
my fire feels wonderful this morning as I sit here with a blanket and a cup of coffee.  I am determined that I will get this letter
written TODAY.  Time is running out (again!).  I believe that in the 24 previous letters, there has been one time that it was
ready to go the week after Thanksgiving.  The rest of the time, I race the calendar and sometimes even the clock to get it
out before Christmas.

It has been five years since Daddy died.  I mark this year with a sense of feeling that loss more acutely than ever, and
also with the knowledge that The One who lovingly carried our Daddy home that December night, has also shepherded us as a
family with far more grace than we could have imagined.  Mama continues to be an incredible blessing to us as a family, and a
vital part of our everyday lives.  She has had a more challenging year, health wise, and we know that she is more fragile than
ever, but we treasure these days with Mama, so glad that God spared her life and gave us more time with her.  She marked
a five year anniversary of being cancer free this year, and for that we give grateful praise.  She still lives alone in her “cottage”
beside the Country Rest Home, and although the hours get long, she has an almost daily stream of visitors through her doors.
What a lady!

Daniel, the guy who works hard to keep things running in a number of different places (home, church, work, etc.) has
had a year that has been probably one of the most difficult of his life.  Last year around this time, his father and step-mother
were in a nursing home, and the family had just separated out the belongings of the house and finalized the sale of their side
of a duplex.  It was an emotionally and physically draining time for him and his sisters as they attempted to salvage the good
memories from their family home and lay to rest what could not be changed.  Daniel fielded phone calls, paper work,
arrangements with medical, legal, insurance and social personnel until he was sure that his head would never be the same again.
There were numerous trips to Ohio and decisions to make.  In October, Ralph’s condition deteriorated to the point where the
doctor recommended that the family consider Hospice Care, and under the capable and watchful eye of Odyssey Hospice, Ralph
Yutzy made his final journey on November 11^th, finally free of that body that had become so undependable and worn out, free
of the sorrows and sadness of this old world.  And even though there were things that could and maybe should have been
different in the relationships that Ralph had with his family, the one thing that I have never doubted was what he believed about
the Way Home to Heaven.   He believed that Jesus was the only way to the Father.  He’s Home Free.  His wife, Sue, is still residing
in the nursing home in Ohio.  She struggles with dementia, but is uncomplaining and generally healthy, happy and content.

One of the brightest spots of this year has been the privilege of being Grandparents.  Daniel and I are enjoying this
aspect of aging far more than is probably proper.  We still have only one grandchild, Charis, daughter of Christina and Jesse,
but she lights up our lives in so many ways.  She is beginning to talk, has been walking everywhere since before she turned
one in April, and is unabashed in her love for us, her “Pea-bah and Mam-mee.”   Christina and Jesse have been so unselfish
with this wee one, and she meanders through our lives, “helping” with anything that we might have going.  She reminds me
so much of her mommy at this age, especially when it comes to water.  I put a big plastic apron over her dress and push a
chair up to the sink and she will splash merrily about, whether it is apples or lima beans or dishes or just the diversion of
pouring water from one container to another.  Sometimes I shut my eyes and remember another brown-eyed girlie and wonder
where the years have gone.  Christina enjoys being a wife and mother, and she is actively involved in the lives of her family and
friends.  Jesse still works for Burris Logistics, and I am always amazed at his prowess and responsibility when it comes to
managing the fundamental computer business involved with this large operation.  He is an involved daddy and a good husband,
and also serves as the “church coordinator” at our church.  We are so thankful for the home he provides for “his girls”.

Deborah (with her wandering feet) has traveled to four foreign countries since our last Christmas letter.  In January, she
was in Chad, Africa, with Wycliffe Bible Translators on a children’s teaching mission.  In June, she traveled with Rachel to
Guatemala, by way of El Salvador, to see our beloved Lupe and her family.  In September, she went with her Auntie, Lena Yutzy,
to Ireland for a self planned, self paced, self navigated tour.  And in November, she went with a Medical Mission team to Peru.
She continues to work part time at the hospital in the ICU, and was recently hired by a local Hospice organization for part time
home hospice care.  She is still in orientation for that position, but has always been unusually gifted when it comes to dealing
with patients who are facing end of life issues.  Her daddy and I sense that she has a calling for this particular line of work and
support her.  She loves to travel, loves adventure, and is a blessing to have still living at home.  She was a Godsend over the
time of my two knee replacements, and she is a willing helper to me when the need arises.  She sometimes still talks of going
back to school for her Bachelor’s degree, but feels adequately trained for what she wants to do now, and so has put that on the
back burner for the time being.

Raphael and Regina have had an eventful year.  Last winter, they began to seriously seek housing and employment in
Holmes County, Ohio, Regina’s home area.  Daniel and I joined them in praying that God would make things plain as to what they
should do, and this Mama tried hard to be neutral in how she prayed for all of that to pan out.  Raph was working in construction
here, but was open to ANYTHING that would make a living for them.  Through a series of unexpected and specific answers to
prayer, Gina was offered her old job, Raph was offered some temporary work, and they found reasonable housing.  It seemed
like Ohio was really where God was calling them, and on Thursday morning, May 13^th, we said those hard, hard “good-byes” and
Raph and Gina pulled out of our driveway on their way to their new home in Millersburg.  I thought my heart was going to break,
I hated it so much.  It was another time when I needed to remember that just because I hated something, it didn’t mean that it
wasn’t God’s will.  And the months since then, though this young couple has weathered some really tough times, have proven
that God is continuing to lead them in exciting ways, that there is a hope and a future for them.  Gina’s job at a local stone
company as a secretary-receptionist has been steady, and she also does online work for a formal wear company based here in
Delaware.  She is industrious and resourceful in so many ways.  Raph has been employed at a number of different construction
type jobs since moving to Ohio, but several months ago found employment at Troyer’s Furniture in Sugar Creek, and is enjoying
this job very much.  He has always loved sales, probably because it is so “people oriented” and is doing well.  We are looking
forward to having them home a few days over Christmas.

Lemuel and Jessica are living in Philadelphia.  Lem graduated from Bryn Mawr in May with his Masters in Social Services.
He has invested so much into this degree, and we couldn’t be happier for him.  He has had steady work since graduation, and is
currently in a position with a community drug and alcohol center as an intake specialist.  He dreams of the day when he can have
his own private counseling practice, and looks for opportunities to further the realities of that.  Jessica works for the Department
of Veterans Affairs as a Veterans Service Representative, and has enjoyed a great deal of favor in the eyes of her supervisors.
She is also taking classes at Eastern University in Philadelphia for her Masters degree in Organizational Leadership (though she
actually pretty much has the organizational end of that down pat just with her natural abilities).  They live an awesomely busy
life between full time jobs and Jessica’s classes and being vitally involved with their church in various capacities.  They, too, have
weathered some storms this year on a number of fronts, and we’ve prayerfully watched the boat that carries these two on the
sea of Life.  Their love has never wavered as they’ve battened down the hatches, and worked hard.  It is gratifying to see them
stronger and more committed and growing in grace.

And then there is Rachel.  Ah, Rachel!  She finished the year at Rosedale Bible Institute believing that God was calling her
into a year of service with Rosedale Mennonite Mission on a REACH team.  She had some very specific ideas about how God
was going to perform that plan — where she was going to go, how long she was going to stay and how her particular team
would be made up.  It isn’t easy to see the dreams of our children come tumbling down, but having walked with Our Father
these many years, I’ve lived long enough to know that He often isn’t inclined to be bossed by mere mortals.  Rachel was
accepted into REACH.  BUT.  She didn’t go where she wanted to go. (She wanted to go to Africa.  She’s in Thailand.)  She
didn’t get the length of time she had wanted. (She wanted a six month term.  Her term is considered nine months.) Her team
is all girls.  (She desperately wanted a mixed gender team.  “Death by Estrogen!” was a familiar wail in the early days of
reconciling herself to this calling.)  It is a little early for us to say how things are going in Thailand.  She has only been there
since December 2^nd.  But God has been doing a work in Rachel’s heart in the last year and especially through the three months
of Discipleship Training that causes me to stand in awe.  Our girlie isn’t perfect, and God will continue to work on her, but she
has faced some of her gremlins and some of her baggage, and we are humbled and thankful and excited.  She and her
“teamies” are presently involved in language school, but will be teaching English in a Buddhist temple, helping with orphans,
street children and women, as well as relating to University students.  She has internet access and we have been able to
“Skype” with her — with most satisfactory results.  Nothing changes the fact, though, that she is half a world away, and
that feels really, really far away for this Momma and Daddy.  If her plans carry, she will be home in August for maybe a
week before she is scheduled to start her sophomore year of college at Cedarville University in Ohio.  It honestly feels like
our years of having our “Littlest Chicken” at home are pretty much over.  It makes it hurt somewhere in the middle of my
stomach.

Our family is still providing care for disabled adults.  Cecilia has been with us for almost eleven years.  Though
blind and non-verbal, she has a place in our family circle that has blessed us often over the years.  She has a leather
La-Z-boy© recliner that is her spot in the little alcove off the kitchen, and she spends many hours there, listening to
National Public Radio or music CD’s and listening to the sounds of living that go on in this old farm house.  Nettie
been with us over four years now.  She attends First State Senior Center for three days a week, and then volunteers
at a gift shop on the grounds of Stockley Center on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  She has been pretty stable this year
as her meds have regulated some of the more troublesome challenges, and she is always eager to help wherever she
can.  In fact, Nettie put every single return address label on these Christmas cards.  She also does the shredding
around here, cleans her bedroom and bathroom, takes the trash to the road on Tuesdays, and feeds and waters the
wild birds that come to the feeders around the grounds at Shady Acres.  Nettie is often self-deprecatory, but she has
no idea of how she lifts my spirits and lightens the load around here.  Somewhere along the years, she has become my
friend, and it is a blessing of inestimable worth.  Her mother is also still living, and Nettie enjoys being able to spend an occasional weekend with her sister and going to visit her Mom.

It is hard to believe that I have two new knees.  It’s been just a little over a year since my left knee was replaced
and nine months since the second one, and I am thankful to be on this side of the surgery.  I can honestly say that
there isn’t a single day that goes by that I am not grateful for this gift.  I can go up and down steps, I can garden, I can
shop, I can dance on my kitchen floor while holding my grandbaby, I can work.  I told my good surgeon that, even though these knees won’t do for me what they did when I was a teenager, they still do everything that a 57 year old lady needs
them to do, and that is just perfect for me. The year has been interesting on almost every count.  There have been
indescribable joys, extreme disappointment, incredible blessing, and acute sorrow.  In the last five months, we’ve said
“good-bye” not only to Daniel’s father, but also to three of my daddy’s siblings — Aunt Naomi, Uncle Amos, and Uncle
David.  It is sobering to realize that of the eight “Yoder Boys” there are only three left: Uncle Daniel, Uncle Paul and Uncle Jesse, and only one sister, Aunt Mimi.  I find my heart often quiet before the losses– not sure how to find my way in this
world where it feels like some of the supports I’ve always relied on are slowly but surely slipping away.  Though I love this
season with its message of “Peace on earth, goodwill towards men,“ it is the story of Easter that gives me hope and
courage in these uncertain times.  The knowledge that those who have gone on before us are waiting for us finds its
authenticity in the resurrection of the one who came as a baby to earth that long night.  We should be people of joy.
The LORD has come!  And He promised to come again.  What a day that will be!

The snow began to fall outside my window shortly before noon today.  The wreaths and red bows around the
deck are beautifully dusted, and the birds are busy at the feeders.  My cup of coffee gave way to a cup of peppermint
tea, and now the darkness has fallen over Shady Acres.  The snow fell fast onto frozen ground, and the roads got ugly
and slippery.  People came home from work and center early — all except Daniel, who is still not home, but probably on his way.  Deborah came in first, looking for a blanket and a warm spot to rest.  Then Nettie and Cecilia put in their
appearances, and already there is a two hour delay for the senior center tomorrow.  C’mon now!  We had
almost two inches.  People can’t be expected to drive in deep snow like that!  (The problem is that almost no one
who grew up in Delaware knows how to drive on this white stuff!)

Silent night, Holy Night.  All is calm, all is bright.

(Except I think my fire just went out, and it is getting chilly in my corner.)

May this season be one of peace and joy for you and the people you love.  Merry Christmas!

*Mary Ann for the Crew at Shady Acres.

It’s hard to believe this is the day after Christmas in Delaware!  It has been snowing most of the day and “they”
are predicting that it will continue through the night.  I am grateful that my husband is here and is content to be here.
  I’m glad my nurse daughter worked last night and got safely home this morning.  I am thankful that my Eldest Daughter,
Beloved Son in Law and their Love Bug are together at their house up the road.  I’m thankful that Youngest Son and Girl
With a Beautiful Heart are in Philadelphia, probably snowed in, but at least safe in their little tucked away apartment,
and that Oldest Son with His Ohio Heart Throb are home in their snug apartment, without any of the complications of
weather that we are experiencing.  I’m grateful for a chance to chat with Youngest Daughter on Facebook and to “hear”
optimism in that exchange.

My heart is heavy, though, when I remember that Milford, DE, has a proportionately large homeless population.  I pray
that there could be shelter given tonight for anyone who may be out in this storm.  And once again, I give grateful praise
for God’s blessing to us, and for the way Certain Man has provided for me and our family.  I’m thankful for warmth and
protection from the weather.  I’m thankful for family and good memories and for this season when we remember
The Best Gift of All!

I received some thoughtful and wonderful gifts over this season.  My family and husband put thought and time and money into their choices.  Middle Daughter gave me this figurine — and though I know that things like this can be “just one more thing to sit on the shelf and get dusty,” this is one feels different somehow! 
Thanks, Beeba!

We are looking for some serious snow here today.  Certain Man is in his chair, still working on the sermon for this morning that may or may not be needed — many churches have already canceled, and our little church, on a back country road with no wind breaks is still deciding.  I am not eager to take my ladies out in it.  Beeba worked last night, and she is home, but reports treacherous black ice under the snow on untreated roads.  All the out of state offspringin’s are gone — Lem and Jess left last night, ahead of the storm and were safely home to their apartment in Philadelphia around midnight.  Raph and Gina decided last night that they would sleep and then try to head out this morning ahead of the worst of the storm, so they left around 6:30.  The house is strangely quiet and empty.  We had a great weekend together, just too short, and we missed our Thailand girlie incredibly much.

In just about a half an hour, it will be five years since my daddy went to Heaven.

I remember so many things about that night.

I remember that the joy was incredible.  He was safely HOME, and he went so peacefully, so quietly, without fanfare or struggle.

I had no idea how much I would miss him.

They always say things like “We’d never wish him back . . . “

Tonight, not that it will change a single thing, I selfishly wish him back.

I wish he hadn’t had to go.

I wish he would be here to comfort and hold my Mama.

I wish he were here to advise his children and grandchildren.

I wish our church family could feel that gentle love that helped to hold us steady.

It doesn’t matter to him, and he wouldn’t want to come back —

But I didn’t know how much I would miss him.

I wish so much that I could talk to him tonight.