Category Archives: Family

Events, Homeschooling, Joshua

Scholarship Jubilee

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Homeschooling is not for the faint of heart. Year after year, your failures as a teacher are mapped out in the ignorance of your children. Sometimes you want to just give up and hand the responsibility over to someone else — anyone else.

But sometimes you have a triumph. Today was such a day.

Yesterday, Union University called. “We’d like you to be home for our call, tomorrow at 3 pm,” they told Joshua.

Union University is a Christian College founded in 1823 in Jackson, Tennessee

This was less ominous than it sounds. Joshua had recently traveled to Tennessee for the Scholars Competition at Union, where 160 candidates competed for approximately thirty full-tuition scholarships. We spent an amusing half-hour speculating about the reason for the call.

Joshua dramatically re-enacts the call from Union.

“Maybe there’s another round of interviews — the guy who makes the final call on the scholarships didn’t get a chance to interview you, so they are going to grill you. Maybe now you can finally tell them how you would ‘rethink hospitals in America’?”

Actually, Joshua is still grappling with that interview question, so it is a good thing they didn’t call to get clarification. My beloved niece, Rebecca, won the Provost scholarship at Union two years ago. She ruined all my fun on Facebook. “They don’t do another round of interviewing,” she told us confidently.

I spent the intervening 24 hours teasing Joshua mercilessly about the call. “Gosh,” I would say. “Three p.m. seems a long time away. I can hardly stand it. How the hours seem to drag!”

I’d weave it casually into conversation: “Say, could you pass those potatoes? Don’t make me wait until 3 pm tomorrow for them!”

When they finally called about 3:20, we were all on pins and needles. We had prayed as a family about the call, but we were still very curious. Joshua had craftily taken the house phone into his room, and closed the door. But a few minutes later, he came down with a big grin on his face. Sure enough, he was awarded a full four-year tuition scholarship to Union. We are very thankful to God for His provision for Joshua — indeed, almost an embarrassment of provision.

It isn't every day you get a call worth $92,000.

First, Joshua received a half-tuition scholarship from Union. Next he was notified of a full-tuition Navy ROTC scholarship to Point Loma. Azusa Pacific followed with a $10,000/year offering. Then came an almost-half-tuition scholarship at Whitworth. The type 7 Air Force ROTC scholarship that came a few weeks later was a little less generous — $18,000 per year for the second, third and fourth years of college (for out-of-state schools). Then Wheaton followed with $3500/year. Now, to receive this full-tuition scholarship from Union, is like whipped cream and a cherry on top of a large ice cream sundae. It is very fun to see Joshua be so favored and blessed by God in this abundant fashion.

We always love an excuse to gather and celebrate with some sparkling cider.

As much as we clearly see the hand of God in all this, and do not seek to diminish His glory, Joshua’s faithfulness and diligence as a student have clearly placed him in a place where God can freely and generously bless him. We are very proud of the way Joshua has conducted himself as a student and as a man of God.

Hooray for Joshua!

Tim

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Musings, Tim

No Moh Skin Cancer

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As a student at The College of William and Mary, I took Geology 101. The course met at the dreary hour of 8 a.m., Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. I was a freshman, and I didn’t know any better during course selection — somehow I thought eight a.m. was a reasonable time for a college class. My friend Eric and I joined about a hundred others in the class, but on cold, rainy Mondays, the number of students would sometimes drop below 50.

The nice thing about Geology was that I could really identify with a rock at that time of the morning. But I must admit, apart from a ‘C’ as a semester grade, I only brought one thing away from the class: Mohs’ scale of hardness.

Moe, from the Three Stooges, not particularly known for scientific advancement, whether geologic or otherwise.

As it turns out, some rocks are harder than others, and a guy named Friedrich Mohs (not to be confused with Moe, of Three Stooges fame) invented a scale to reflect this fact. For example, Talc (a chalklike mineral) is considered to be a 1 on the scale, while Diamond is a 10. The human fingernail is a lowly 2.5, while glass is somewhere between 6 and 7.

Geologist Friedrich Mohs, 1773-1839

I share this important geological ‘nugget’ of information (sorry, just some geologist humor, there) because I was recently diagnosed with skin cancer. After the biopsy results came back, they called me up to schedule me for Mohs surgery. You can, perhaps, imagine my alarm — I had just healed from the biopsy — I didn’t want any mo’ surgery! After the nurse spelled it for me, I began to wish I had worked for a better grade in Geology.

Fortunately, the interweb (or possibly the webernet) is a veritable wealth of information on squamous-cell carcinoma, and the iterative surgical procedure they call Mohs (after Frederick Mohs, no apparent relation to the 18th century geologist) is apparently the favored way of dealing with this particular type of skin cancer, with a 97% success rate.

Frederick Mohs, 1910-2002, surgeon and developer of Mohs micrographic surgery.

Squamous-cell skin cancer is fairly common, with about 700,000 cases diagnosed annually in the United States. It has a mortality rate of about a third of a percent, or a little more than three in a thousand.

(Parenthetically, one needs to be careful about research on the interweb. Until today, I was under the impression (based on another website) that the mortality rate was a little over 3%. While still a fairly small chance of death, this is ten times more likely than the other number I read, and it caused me no small amount of consternation, to think that I might actually die from this cancer.)

Anyway, today’s surgery was successful, and the doctor seems to think they got all the cancer, and that there is little chance of recurrence, given the size and depth of the malignancy. But I ended up with a pretty dramatic bandage and wound, which I plan to milk for all the sympathy I can.

You should see the other guy!

It is interesting to reflect on how the prospect of physical death has had a sobering effect on how I view my life. I kept wondering, “What if I’m one of those who die of this cancer? Am I ready to be done with this life? Have I been faithful to God, with the time that has been given me?”

As I mentioned recently in One Month to Live, I am inspired by the story of Hezekiah. Now that it seems to me that I will not be dying immediately from skin cancer, what am I going to do with whatever time I have remaining?

I’m definitely not going to invite the Babylonians over to look at all my treasures.

Tim

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Aunts and Uncles, Family, Family News

Lost Days of 2011 — Vacationing in Fort Clark, Texas

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Continuing my ‘Lost Days of 2011′ series, here is another memory that went unchronicled last year. I don’t know what I was thinking, to leave this vacation out!

Perhaps one of the hardest things for my mother-in-law to do last year, was to host us all at Fort Clark without her husband. Mamie has this idea that Bill was ‘the fun one’ and it was a big step for her to let us all come back to Texas in the Summer of 2011, with Grandad having died in February.

Still, how could it be Summer without a week or two in Texas? So many of our best and happiest memories are rooted in that place — we were thrilled that Mamie agreed to let us all come.

David and Sarah, beating the Texas heat with a shared water bottle

With the seven of us, Dan and his three, Aunt Stephanie, Jenn and Logan, and David R. thrown in for good measure, it was a large, silly crowd. Mamie was a very good sport to put up with us all, and to be ‘the fun one’ in her own right.

"Houston, we have a negative on escape velocity."

As usual, we spent many days at the football-field length pool, playing games and making ice-cream pilgrimages to Pico’s in the evenings. But we also went bowling, launched water balloons, and geocached as well. It was a fun-filled visit, with lots of cousin-time and opportunity to rest and relax.

Aunt Stephanie is very intentional about connecting with each of our kids -- she is a Great Aunt!

It was strange to be there without Grandad. I tried to go for lots of golf-cart rides, and I even read a couple of Louis L’Amour books (just to get into the spirit of the thing) but we very much missed his larger-than-life, boisterous Grandad-in-vacation-mode persona.

We tried to 'round up the usual suspects', but all we found were these people.

We missed having Phil and Emily there, but it was good to have some time with Jenn and Logan. One of the best things about Fort Clark is that you seem to have plenty of time there — the slow pace demanded by the heat is a welcome change from our busy lives.

Logan was well-loved by all his cousins, and Jenn's kindness and sense of humor were greatly appreciated.

Thanks to Aunt Kate and Uncle Jerry, who let us stay at their house, we had plenty of room to sleep and play games. They have been so kind to us, over the years, and I often worry that we are not sufficiently thankful. This year, I had the idea that we could each write a thank-you note to them each day — it turned into quite a pile of mail. I hope we didn’t irritate them more than we communicated our thanks.

Kathy never quite gets enough time with her family.

As a parent, I get a lot of enjoyment out of seeing my children interact with their cousins. There is something particularly special and precious about a close relationship with a cousin — that bond of blood seems to establish a level of trust that isn’t found in any other relationship.

Only their mothers can tell them apart.

Truly, an unforgettable Summer vacation. Thank you, Mamie, for letting us visit you at Fort Clark. Thank you for being brave and doing it without Bill.

Tim

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Daily Life, Daniel, Recipes/Food

French Dinner with Daniel

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As part of his French class, Daniel must occasionally engage in the production of special cultural projects, to enhance his understanding of French culture. Past projects have included:

  • Making a map of our neighborhood, with all the landmarks labeled in French
  • Watching a French movie — Les Choristes
  • Taking a picture (and labeling it in French) of our living room
  • Writing a report on how Christmas is celebrated in France

This month, Daniel was given the opportunity to do some French cooking. My suggestion of French Fries wasn’t received favorably, for some reason. Daniel looked over the list, and settled on crepes.

At first, I was inclined to sneer a bit. “It’s just a pancake with a French name,” I said to myself. But when he started to add the Strawberry Jam, Nutella and Cool Whip, I changed my tune.

Some school projects are a lot more fun than others.

“Say, Daniel,” I hinted, in my best wheedling voice. “Do you need me to try that, just to make sure it is OK?” No, for some reason he didn’t need my help — I had to make my own with the dregs of his batter.

It was a delectable dessert, and I took back my sneering. Of course, not many things aren’t made delicious by way of a liberal coat of Nutella. Well done, Daniel!

As the day wore on, David asked me, with his characteristic tact, “So, Dad, what are we doing about supper?”

I haven’t scored a lot of points as a short-order cook this week. “Fend for yourselves,” has been my rallying cry, as I headed off to work in the city. We’ve gone through all the Chimichangas and most of the burritos. Happily, I was able to report that one of Kathy’s dear friends was bringing dinner. The cheering was a bit deafening, and rather insulting.

We were all still hungry enough to devour Michelle's delicious beef stew, in spite of the crepes.

The stew that was provided was mostly steak, with a few token carrots and potatoes thrown in for color — just the sort of stew that a houseful of boys appreciates. Kathy’s friends sure are good to us — thanks, Michelle!

I decided not to display the Cookies & Cream Ice Cream Cake because, well, we haven’t finished it yet. Besides, we’re not accepting any visitors until we do a little cleaning in the kitchen.

Tim

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Family, Grandparents

Books, Grandad and Loss

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I’m sitting in the darkened room of my mom’s new condo. Her lovely, airy, just-the-right-size condo where she lives ALONE, without my dad. How is it possible that a year has passed already since we said goodbye to one of the most godly, energetic, full-of-life men that I have ever known? A year? A year of tears, sadness, changes, laughter, new memories, birthdays, holidays, old and new traditions. At every turn there exists both bitter loss and, at the same time, the peace and comfort that can only be found in God’s incredible care.

“I haven’t been bored since the third grade,” Dad used to say, a book (or two) in hand, a project (or two) in the works, and a place (or two) to go.

I found this picture in a stack of old family slides.

“What happened in the third grade?” I asked my mom this week, my heart full of an odd mingled joy and sadness, glad to be together with my family in Michigan but hating the reason for our celebration.

Mom’s eyes slid to the bookshelves adorning the wall in the upstairs bedroom, and she laughed, “It’s probably when he discovered the school library.”

Oh my, that must be it! I can think of dozens of pictures, snapshots on the computer and faded slides in boxes, and hundreds of images, vivid memories, that include my father with a book in his hand.

My high school honors program, yep a book and magazine article tucked in his jacket pocket.

Visiting people at the hospital – Bible in one hand and a book in the other.

The pool, beach or park – there wasn’t a single outing where Dad would venture without one or more books, usually a small tote bag full of reading material with him.

Niece Aydia already shares Grandad's love of reading!

My dad possessed a passion for learning and a library of thousands of books. He could never resist a book sale and was constantly bringing home bags of “treasures” he found at the library sale racks. I truly believe he intended to read ALL of the books on his shelves, if only he could find the time in his incredibly busy, full life.

I remember the distressed sound in his voice when we spoke over the phone while he was in the hospital, “Kath, I can’t seem to concentrate on my book. I can’t even read one of the westerns.”

Are there books in heaven?

A year since we last held his hand, kissed his cheek and said farewell.

Dear Daddy,

I miss you. Your smile reached down to the deep, scared places of my heart. That smile radiated, loud and clearly, “You are my daughter, and I love you.”

Thank you for instilling in me a curiosity and craving for knowledge. Thank you for teaching and learning and modeling a hunger and thirst for the Lord. Thank you for loving my children. My soul hurts for their loss as much as my own.

Sometimes it feels like we can’t go on without you. I can’t remember a time when you and Mom were apart for more than three days. There is an emptiness, by her side, where you should be standing.

I dreamt last month that we were all together. In the dream I kept wondering, “Where were you during that long year when Mom sold the house and moved? Why weren’t you with her? Where did you go?” But the separation was over and you smiled, and I knew I was loved.

I woke up and realized you were gone, and I sobbed and sobbed.

In the quiet moments, later in the day, I realized that dream was a gift; it was a little glimpse of heaven. Eventually we will all be together again. We will no longer ache with loss and sadness. We will be whole and complete, and we will all smile in the radiance of Christ’s glory and presence.

I love you,
Kathy

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