Where I Was When...
When you're caught completely off-guard by hard, bad news, our memory has a way of capturing 'where we were when' ...
I remember where I was, my senior year of high school, after playing in the regional basketball tournament, when I stumbled off the school bus at midnight only to have my dad say that Grandpa was about to die and that we were leaving for Memphis immediately.
I remember where I was when Michelle called to tell me that our friend "House" had commited suicide, on Christmas Day back in 1991. I was in our Hugill Street home, in the upstairs t.v. room, sitting on the floor in the doorway.
I remember where I was, my senior year of high school, after playing in the regional basketball tournament, when I stumbled off the school bus at midnight only to have my dad say that Grandpa was about to die and that we were leaving for Memphis immediately.
I remember where I was when Michelle called to tell me that our friend "House" had commited suicide, on Christmas Day back in 1991. I was in our Hugill Street home, in the upstairs t.v. room, sitting on the floor in the doorway.
And more recently, I remember where I was when Jack came upstairs and said, "John committed suicide." In Chicago, sitting on our leather couch, in our living room, 11 months ago.
I remember being in Indonesia and getting the email from Jack saying that his mom had cancer. I was sitting all alone in the little Pos 7 elementary school office; the place where we received our very slow Internet connection, complete with the "You've Got Mail" dial-up tone. Sitting in the little office chair, reading and re-reading the email. No.
And I remember where I was when Jack's mom slipped into the Heavenly Arms of Jesus, June 4th, 2003, after a long, hard fight against cancer. Her bed was surrounded by her loved ones, we had just finished singing her favorite hymns, and Jack's dad said the most beautiful prayer, releasing her into the arms of Jesus.
I remember my Grandma Gregory's voice on the other end of the phone saying that Uncle Bob and Aunt Gail had been in a very serious, life-threatening car accident and that I needed to track down my mom and dad who were somewhere out West in Canada, traveling across the country. I sat in my tiny little hallway right outside the bathroom of my one-bedroom apartment on Lakewood Avenue.
Anyway. You get the idea. And you probably have similar types of memories permanently etched in your mind. I could recall countless other significant moments like these. Life-altering. Sobering. We just remember "where we were when."
And just last Friday, on our way home from Canada, another one socked me in the gut. I will forever remember where I was when ...
Having been home in Canada for a full week last week, without Internet access, we stopped for gas and I ran across the street to the McDonald's parking lot with my computer in hand. We were in Lake City, Michigan, having just pulled off I-27 South. Heading West on a country road toward Cadillac, Michigan. Thanks to free wi-fi, I downloaded my emails, and sat on the lawn and began reading while waiting for Jack and the kids. Numbers 1 through 19 were just normal, routine stuff. Friends dropping me a note. Church stuff. Whatever. And then number 20.
From Sara. {Sara from this photo shoot here. You know Triston, Jackson's buddy; Sara's his mommy and my friend. We met back when Maddie was in preschool, and Sara was one of her groovy teachers that I set out to get to know just the minute Maddie was out of her classroom.}
She wrote that things with the new baby were good. Caden arrived right before we left for Canada. Healthy. Beautiful.
And then this: Grayson has Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. Wait. What? Reread. Grayson has Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.
Out loud, to no-one in particular, I said, "No way. NO. Oh no." Or something like that. Grayson's only 21 months old. He's just little. So little. This can't be.
That was just 3 days ago that I found out that news. My heart is heavy for Sara, Charito and her boys. Very. Heavy. I simply cannot even begin to imagine what she is feeling, what she is thinking, what she is going through.
And so, I have been praying. And will continue. I'll pray for a miracle in G's little body, that he is completely healed of ALL. I will pray for comfort and strength and encouragement and HOPE for Sara and Charito as they walk this road of having a little boy with leukemia.
We went to Ravinia together, just Sara, myself and the little boys, back in late June so I dug up these pictures of Grayson. So that you can put a face to this sweet little boy's name. So that you can begin praying for him ... and them ...
And I remember where I was when Jack's mom slipped into the Heavenly Arms of Jesus, June 4th, 2003, after a long, hard fight against cancer. Her bed was surrounded by her loved ones, we had just finished singing her favorite hymns, and Jack's dad said the most beautiful prayer, releasing her into the arms of Jesus.
I remember my Grandma Gregory's voice on the other end of the phone saying that Uncle Bob and Aunt Gail had been in a very serious, life-threatening car accident and that I needed to track down my mom and dad who were somewhere out West in Canada, traveling across the country. I sat in my tiny little hallway right outside the bathroom of my one-bedroom apartment on Lakewood Avenue.
Anyway. You get the idea. And you probably have similar types of memories permanently etched in your mind. I could recall countless other significant moments like these. Life-altering. Sobering. We just remember "where we were when."
And just last Friday, on our way home from Canada, another one socked me in the gut. I will forever remember where I was when ...
Having been home in Canada for a full week last week, without Internet access, we stopped for gas and I ran across the street to the McDonald's parking lot with my computer in hand. We were in Lake City, Michigan, having just pulled off I-27 South. Heading West on a country road toward Cadillac, Michigan. Thanks to free wi-fi, I downloaded my emails, and sat on the lawn and began reading while waiting for Jack and the kids. Numbers 1 through 19 were just normal, routine stuff. Friends dropping me a note. Church stuff. Whatever. And then number 20.
From Sara. {Sara from this photo shoot here. You know Triston, Jackson's buddy; Sara's his mommy and my friend. We met back when Maddie was in preschool, and Sara was one of her groovy teachers that I set out to get to know just the minute Maddie was out of her classroom.}
She wrote that things with the new baby were good. Caden arrived right before we left for Canada. Healthy. Beautiful.
And then this: Grayson has Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. Wait. What? Reread. Grayson has Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.
Out loud, to no-one in particular, I said, "No way. NO. Oh no." Or something like that. Grayson's only 21 months old. He's just little. So little. This can't be.
That was just 3 days ago that I found out that news. My heart is heavy for Sara, Charito and her boys. Very. Heavy. I simply cannot even begin to imagine what she is feeling, what she is thinking, what she is going through.
And so, I have been praying. And will continue. I'll pray for a miracle in G's little body, that he is completely healed of ALL. I will pray for comfort and strength and encouragement and HOPE for Sara and Charito as they walk this road of having a little boy with leukemia.
We went to Ravinia together, just Sara, myself and the little boys, back in late June so I dug up these pictures of Grayson. So that you can put a face to this sweet little boy's name. So that you can begin praying for him ... and them ...
Sara is going to start a blog about Grayson and this journey that they have begun. I will be sure to link to it and would love for you to follow the story of sweet Grayson. In the meantime, if you want to link to Sara's regular blog you can go here to learn more about this wonderful little family whom we've come to love.
Psalm 62My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.
Find rest, O my soul, in God alone, my hope comes from him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation, he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.
My salvation and my honor depend on God;
He is my mighty rock, my refuge.
Trust in him at all times, O people;
pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge.
One thing God has spoken,
two things have I heard;
that you, O God are strong,
and that you, O Lord, are loving,
Surely you will reward each person according to what he has done.
Please join me in praying faithfully for this little guy and his sweet family.