A Tale of Two Birthdays

My alarm clock woke me at 5:45 a.m. I was tempted to turn it off and burrow back under my comforter in my air-conditioned bedroom. It's so hard to run by myself, I thought. For the past six years my long-time friend Kristen and I had been meeting three times each week for six-mile morning runs. Knowing that she would be waiting for me on her porch each Monday and Tuesday (or showing up on mine, if it was a Thursday) made it so much easier to propel myself out of bed. 

But her schedule had changed. Meeting for our regular runs no longer worked. I guess I'm on my own, I thought. 

I threw back the comforter, walked down the short flight of steps to the kitchen and started my coffee maker. As the coffee was brewing, I opened the front door to feel the air. As I suspected--hot and humid, feeling much more like August than the September morning it was. I always have beautiful weather on my birthday, what's the deal? I thought. The cool front in the forecast last night hadn't arrived yet. I grabbed a tank top and running shorts from my drawer in the bathroom, laced up my Hokas and headed out the door.

In the humidity, I quickly worked up a sweat as I ran through Benjamin Hills and headed to the river. I remembered shopping with Laurel for dresses last night. I'd hoped to find something fun to wear to the concert tonight but hadn't had much luck. I'd gotten an inexpensive knit skirt, but I wasn't happy with the tummy bulge it showed. Even with my running, an extra ten pounds had creeped on. I need to go on a diet, I thought. Maybe some of the extra weight is due to the fibroids. My hysterectomy is set for November 14. Getting rid of my uterus and the accompanying fibroids will get rid of a few pounds, and maybe even the tummy bulge. 

The doctor said I should plan on about two weeks of down time, so I decided I would get our business set up on QuickBooks during my recovery. We really needed our information in a computer program, and our friend Dave from No Worry Lawn Care said they used QuickBooks. I hope it doesn't have a long learning curve, I hate not knowing how to do things.

By the time I got back home from my run, Dave and Caleb were waiting for me to get mowing. It might have been nice to have my birthday off, I thought. No such luck. I quickly changed my shoes, and we all got in the truck. As I was mowing the back yard of the third house on our route, I felt the wind pick up and the temperature drop about 20 degrees. The cool front, finally! Too bad it didn't come before my run.

Since it was Wednesday and my birthday, we stopped at Great Wall, which is near where we were mowing around noon. I had my usual, cashew chicken. I tried to only eat half and save some for another time, but it was hard because it was so good. Later I regretted eating so much, because our next lawn had a lot of branches down, and I had to bend down and pick them up.

After work, I spent some time going through invoices, marking off the ones that had been paid. Then it was time to shower and get ready. Before Laurel and I left, I had Dave take some photos of us by the tree on the front lawn. He did his signature tilted shot (which drives me crazy), but some others were regular vertical and horizonal and might have been okay if my tummy bulge wasn't showing on every single one. I didn't think I would be posting them to Facebook. 

Dave's signature tilted photo.

For dinner, Laurel drove us to Larkspur Bistro and Bar. At 14, Laurel had her learner's permit, so she was trying to get hours behind the wheel whenever she could. Really, her in-town driving was fine. What she still needed was highway miles. I wanted Dave to be the one for that job since he was always critiquing my driving (he reminded me of my driver's ed teacher), but it never seemed convenient for him to teach her.

We arrived at the restaurant in plenty of time. If I'd have known Larkspur was in the plans I wouldn't have agreed to the Great Wall for lunch, I thought. Oh well, we can split an entree. That will help on the bill, too. 

It didn't take us too long to choose our pasta dish, so after ordering I proposed we take a selfie (I was pretty sure we didn't have any good photos from our previous session). Laurel, as a new iPhone owner, insisted we use her phone with the superior selfie cam. She also wanted to be the one to hold the phone. Fine. I requested that she use my Samsung too, so I would have the photo (in case she forgot to send it to me, which often happened) and so I could see why she thought hers was better. 

Selfie No. 1, I think from my Samsung

Selfie No. 2, I think from Laurel's iPhone

The concert we were headed to was the Eli Young Band. We hadn't remembered to call ahead for a reserved table, so our tickets were general admission. I didn't feel like standing in my cowboy boots for the entire night. That's why I was so glad to see Brenda (not her real name), a gal who had briefly been in my women's small group a few years ago. She was with her husband, and they had a reserved table with open seats. I introduced Laurel and as I'd hoped, she offered to let us sit there.  

"It's so funny to run into you here," I said. "Your name came up just a few weeks ago, I can't remember why." 

The opening act was playing, making further conversation difficult. Laurel and I had turned our chairs to see the stage. Then, like a punch in the gut, I remembered. Some friends had been talking about Brenda because her teenage son had gotten a girl pregnant. 

Flooded with embarrassment, I didn't know what to do. I honestly hadn't remembered that tidbit of gossip when I first saw Brenda, but of course she would have known what the topic of conversation must have been. I hadn't passed the information on to anyone, but what difference did that make when I had listened? Laurel didn't know any of this, and I wasn't about to clue her in. After the opening act was finished, we thanked Brenda and took our place on the floor.

To take my mind off my gaffe, I decided to get a beer. After all, Laurel's driving!  I waited in the line and bought a Michelob Ultra, then joined Laurel back on the floor. The Eli Young Band had other songs I wasn't familiar with. When they sang "Even if it Breaks Your Heart" I thought about my dreams of writing a book. Yes, keep on dreaming, but for how long? I'm 46! 

Eli Young Band plays The Cotillion in Wichita. September 10, 2014

"Crazy Girl" was the highlight of their lineup, the crowd favorite. Which was okay, but my feminist side bristles a bit when he calls her "Crazy Girl," and "Silly Woman." The end is a clever turn of phrase when he says, "I love you like crazy, girl." It almost redeems the song. Almost.

When the concert was over, I looked at the time and realized we could make Sonic's half price shakes. It was my birthday, after all, and we hadn't had dessert at the restaurant. Why couldn't we have all gone to dinner? I wondered. Why was Laurel tasked with taking me out, as if celebrating my birthday was some sort of chore, and she drew the short straw? The boys hadn't done anything!

When Laurel pulled into our driveway, I saw a light on in the kitchen. Walking in, I saw some balloons had been taped to our kitchen light fixture, and a bunch of Aldi flowers were stuck in a vase on the table. There was a cake that Dave had made from a mix--red velvet. Red velvet is our family's traditional birthday cake, but I always make it from scratch with the Waldorf-Astoria's recipe for seven-minute cooked frosting. Dave had probably gotten cream cheese frosting in a can.

Why hadn't Laurel steered me away from getting the Sonic shakes if she'd known the cake was waiting?

Caleb and Harrison were still up. Dave lit two candles (he probably hadn't found my stash of birthday candles and hadn't thought to buy any). Oh well, 46 candles was a lot, and really a waste of money.

They sang "Happy Birthday." I blew out my candles and looked up. I stopped short. The view was incredible. My husband and my three nearly adult children, all lined up across the table, looking at me with love. 

I knew I had to capture it. I grabbed my phone and snapped a photo of this one perfect moment.

Freeze Frame- I looked up from blowing my candles, and this is what I saw. My family, all looking at me with love. My glass was filled and overflowing. I knew even in that moment that I wanted to hold it forever.

 

Later that night, I replayed the events of my birthday in my mind. With my heart overflowing, I now saw the day differently. I had been complaining about my glass being half empty, when all that time I could have chosen to see it as half full.

Once again, with gratitude

My alarm clock woke me at 5:45 a.m. so I threw back the covers and walked down the short flight of steps to the kitchen and ground beans for a pot of coffee. I've gotten into such a good running groove, I thought. I'm so thankful that Kristen and I were able to run together for so long--six years! Our six-mile morning runs three times each week had been good for our fitness and our friendship. Recently her schedule had changed. I can do this on my own for a while, and maybe next semester we can figure out a new plan.

As the smell of coffee brewing wafted through the kitchen, I opened the front door to feel the air. My birthday (mid-September) is often when Kansas' hot and humid stretch of summer weather breaks into cool, refreshing mornings and I can start playing Neil Diamond's "September Morn" on repeat. The weather forecast had even said it was coming today. But not yet. Maybe during my run, I thought as I headed out the door.

With its mature trees, curving streets, gentle hills, and unique architecture, Benjamin Hills is a beautiful neighborhood to walk and run in, and I'd been doing it for more than 20 years. We'd moved to a new, larger house in the last year, but it was only four blocks from our old one. And now I was even closer to one of Wichita's best amenities--the bike path along the river. As I ran down the ramp to the edge of the water, I remembered shopping with Laurel last night. Dave was so sweet to suggest we go get new dresses for the concert tonight, I thought. I'm so glad Laurel found a dress. And I love how she can put outfits together. She'd found a camisole and a shrug for me that went with a knit skirt that I could wear with my cowboy boots. 

I thought of my upcoming hysterectomy, set for November 14. It looked like our insurance would cover most of it, and we'd saved enough to cover my portion. Thank you, Lord. The fibroids in my uterus had made running during my period difficult. It would be nice to have it all taken away. Of course, I wasn't sure how soon I'd be able to get back to running after surgery. I looked along the river and spotted the heron I often saw. He took flight, skimming the water, stretching his long wings, then settled a little farther down the bank, his body morphing back into the compact sitting position. Amazing. I hope I'll be back running before too long; I'll miss this.

I'll have about two weeks of down time, I remembered the doctor saying. My recovery will be a good opportunity to get started on QuickBooks and enter all of our customer information. Our friend Dave from No Worry Lawn Care said his wife uses that software for their business and kindly offered any help I needed.

By the time I got back home from my run, Dave and Caleb were up and ready to get mowing. Having Caleb helping us was a treat. He'd graduated high school and was awaiting orders with the U. S. Air Force. In the meantime, he was taking a psychology class at Butler but helping us on the days he didn't have class. Soon he would get his date and be off to basic training. Time with him was precious. Plus, when he was around, I never had to help Dave lift heavy bags of grass into the truck. 

As I was mowing the back yard of the third house on our route, I felt the wind pick up and the temperature drop about 20 degrees. The cool front! Now this is the September Morn worthy of Neil Diamond's song. And it came on my birthday! 

I was 46 today, I've lived 30 more years than my cousin Cheryl, I thought. She'd died after a single-car accident on a gravel road near her home in Nebraska when she was 16. I was 15 at the time, and our older sisters (who shared May 28 as their birthday), were freshmen at Tabor College. Cheryl had just returned from a youth conference and had shared her testimony, challenging other students to make sure they had accepted Jesus as their savior. Lord, thank you for these years you've given me. I know none are guaranteed. Help me make the most of them, I prayed.

Around noon we were finished with our lawns on Coolidge, and Dave parked the truck at Great Wall. "Are we having lunch here?" I asked?

"It's your birthday!" Dave said.

It had been a while since we'd stopped there for lunch on our Wednesday route, so the cashew chicken, which was fresh and piping hot, tasted extra good. I ate half, then put the clear lid over the foil takeout pan and crimped the edges.

We finished mowing early in the afternoon. I spent some time going through invoices, marking off the ones that had been paid. I was looking forward to streamlining our business with QuickBooks. God had been faithful to provide customers and work. We'd been supporting our family with it for over a decade. Dave was good with the customers and making the lawns look great, and I liked working outside with him. I'd done the marketing for our business and had gradually taken over more of the bookkeeping.    

By this time Harrison and Laurel were home from North High, and it was time to shower and get ready. I was putting on makeup in the bathroom, and Laurel was at her dresser in her room across the landing, but we could check on each other's progress and talk about our upcoming evening. It was times like this that made me so thankful I had a daughter.

To commemorate this event, we needed a photo session. We enlisted Dave as our photographer and took several poses. The lighting was good, and the weather a perfect late summer evening. The large potted mum my sister-in-law, Julie, had brought by earlier for my birthday gave a promise of autumn.

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For dinner, Laurel drove us to Larkspur Bistro and Bar, one of my very favorite places. It felt a little surreal to have my daughter escorting me to dinner, but also nice. 

We arrived at the restaurant in plenty of time. I ordered the shrimp linguine. While we were waiting for our waiter to deliver the hot, rustic bread to dip in olive oil and spices (yum!) I asked Laurel if I could take her picture. She looked so cute with her blonde hair curled and her braces. 

Laurel with her iPhone, age 14

The concert we were headed to was the Eli Young Band. A few summers before my favorite song on the radio was "Even if it Breaks Your Heart." I loved the lyrics describing the creative process and the message to "keep on dreaming." 

Last August I'd taken Laurel to see her favorite, Taylor Swift, when she came to Intrust Bank Arena on her Red Tour, so when Laurel learned my favorite would be in Wichita playing at the Cotillion on my birthday, she insisted we go. Dave and I had been to Zoobilee (the zoo's annual big fundraising event) on Saturday with some friends, so he and I had already celebrated my birthday. I'm having a festival! I thought.

We had been inside the Cotillion for a few minutes, scanning the assembling crowd when I saw Brenda. She graciously offered us their open seats. I said we would just need them for a little while. 

"It's so funny to run into you here," I said. "Your name came up just a few weeks ago, I can't remember why." 

As the opening act was playing, I remembered Brenda's teenage son had gotten a girl pregnant. 

Oh Lord, I really messed up there, I prayed. Please show me how I can make it right. I want to apologize, but I'm not sure here at this loud concert or tonight is even the right place or time. I think I have her address, maybe I can send a card. I can't imagine what she's going through right now. This is not what they had hoped and planned for their son. Still, maybe I could remind her that You have a way of making all things work together for good, even though we can't see it at the time. I could mention a friend who was a "grandma before her time" that was so blessed with her grandchild. Or another friend from church who had been the daughter of a teenage mom who had a super-special relationship with her Grandma. Maybe I can even invite her to our new women's group, in case she needs friends who will listen and give her a soft place to land. Please let me show your love to her. And help me to not obsess about this tonight, I don't want to ruin Laurel's and my time together.

After the opening act was finished, we thanked Brenda and took our place on the floor.

The Eli Young Band had songs I wasn't familiar with, but they had a good sound and it was a good crowd. It was so much fun being there on a mother-daughter date with Laurel. "Even if it Breaks Your Heart" sounded as good as on the radio. I thought about my dreams of writing a book. I'd edited the church newsletter for a dozen years and loved when I could interview members for longer narratives, but that chapter had ended. Lord, please show me my next steps, I prayed.

Eli Young Band plays The Cotillion in Wichita. September 10, 2014

"Crazy Girl" was the highlight of their lineup, the crowd favorite. I was amused at several women who obviously felt like the lyrics had been written just for them. You go, crazy girls!

When the concert was over, I looked at the time and realized we could still make Sonic's half price shakes. It was my birthday, after all. And maybe I could tell Laurel about my blunder with Brenda, and my plan to make it right and maybe even re-kindle a friendship.

When Laurel pulled into our driveway, I saw a light on in the kitchen and it was decorated with balloons and a fresh bouquet of flowers! Dave had baked a cake--red velvet, our family's traditional birthday cake and he had put it on the beautiful glass cake stand I'd inherited from his mother. 

Caleb and Harrison were still up. Dave even had candles! They must have gone to Aldi just as soon as we'd turned the corner!

"Laurel, did you know this was happening?" I asked. She giggled and said yes.

"You guys completely surprised me!" I said. "I had no idea. Laurel even let me get Sonic shakes and didn't end up spilling the beans!" We all laughed.

Dave baked a red velvet cake for me.

They sang "Happy Birthday," and I felt my birthday was complete. I blew out my candles and looked up. The view was incredible. My husband and my three nearly adult children, all lined up across the table, looking at me with love.

I knew I had to capture this moment. I grabbed my phone and snapped a photo of this one perfect moment. Because I was so grateful for these blessings in my life, and I didn't want to take them for granted, and I didn't want to ever forget.

Freeze Frame- I looked up from blowing my candles, and this is what I saw. My family, all looking at me with love. My glass was filled and overflowing. I knew even in that moment that I wanted to hold it forever. Harrison, 16, Caleb, 18, Dave, 47, and Laurel, 14. Our dog, Odie, was one year old.

 

How Does Your Garden Grow?

 For church this month, Pastor Dave Mitchell preached a series asking, "How Does Your Garden Grow?" looking at how we are cultivating our gardens in attempt to produce spiritual fruit in all areas of our lives. For these messages Dave didn't preach a traditional sermon. Instead, he assembled several panels of West Ridge members and interviewed them onstage. 

For the first he had a panel of five regular attenders (three women, two men) tell how they are living out kingdom values in their workplaces. 

One man, an electrician, is employing and mentoring several young men who have grown up attending West Ridge. Another woman started a business helping adult children find living arrangements for aging parents with a decidedly Christian-themed website and mission. A physician's assistant talked about showing Jesus' love as she cares for people on their worst days. 

I thought about our business, Franklin Lawn Service, and how my husband, David, and I have been using it to cultivate our corner of the garden.  When we started in 2003 Dave had already been mowing the lawns of several elderly neighbors for years. As we advertised in neighborhood newsletters, the new customers we gained were often elderly, and many were widows. 

Franklin Lawn Service- In 2003, Dave started with a push mower and his first ZTR (zero turn radius) mower.

The Bible has at least twenty passages instructing believers to care for widows, so from the beginning, we have made a point to serve widows well. We quoted them a fair price for our service and didn't raise it for years. We spent a little extra time in chit chat. Dave would do little odd jobs that they couldn't, like unscrewing a hose from a faucet, programming their sprinkler system, or moving something heavy. We got phone numbers to communicate with their adult children, we reported when things were amiss. We kept mowing periodically until the house was sold. We attended their funerals. 

As we cared for our customers, God continued to provide for us. I was a stay-at-home mom, so we were depending on this business alone to support our family, and He was faithful. In summers, our kids had built-in summer jobs working in our business. We paid them generously, and they had money to buy (mostly) what they wanted. They learned to work hard, and they also learned what they needed to do to advance their own careers so they would no longer have to work for their parents. 

While the parents are away- Harrison, 14, and Caleb, 16, run the business for a few days in August of 2012 while we leave for a vacation.

Once people know we have a lawn service, the next question is always, "What do you do in winter? Do you do snow removal?" Our answer is, "We used to." When our kids were still home, if a snow was heavy enough to cancel school, we would work all day clearing the driveways of our customers who'd requested it. We often made enough to cover our mortgage and give the kids money too. However, some years in Wichita we don't see much snow. Also, since our summers were busy with mowing, we increasingly looked on winter as our vacation time.

In 2018 when Harrison was stationed in Oregon with the Coast Guard, we took 23 days to drive up the Pacific Coast Highway and help him move in. In 2020 we spent 27 days driving down the coast and stopping for a visit with him and his wife, Olivia. An RV purchase led us to check out Florida for 42 days in 2022 and 49 in 2023. 

Our freedom to travel has been unexpected bonus, one that we are loathe to relinquish as we sometimes contemplate other vocations. We are grateful for God's provision for our family.

Lawn mower maintenance- Dave gets his mowers ready for the 2021 season.

Remembering Share Prayer and Dare

Sunday was a blast from the past. Pastor Dave Mitchell's sermon series, "How Does Your Garden Grow?" has really brought to light many inspiring stories from the people of Westridge as we attempt to cultivate the corners of the garden where God has placed us. 

Last week I started a blog about the five-person panel Dave assembled to bring a "sermon" about how they are bringing Christ into their diverse workplaces. I didn't get very far on my blog last Sunday night, but I still plan to share those thoughts as well.

However, I want to talk about yesterday. The panel was made of four Westridge members who are in different stages of preparing for full-time ministry, one already has her degree, others just beginning.

The one at the first end of the panel was Brady Long, who is a sophomore at Tabor College. He has recently decided to pursue youth ministry. Onstage, Brady said he was forgoing his earlier notes to talk about a campus ministry he was involved with at Tabor. 

Brady grew up at Westridge (I remember teaching him in 1st grade Sunday School) and he attended youth group, but he said the ministry that brought him closest to God was Share Prayer and Dare at Tabor. Brady said the usual format was someone would share their testimony or a hard time that God had brought them through. Often the talks were deeply vulnerable and personal. After the sharing, the large group would break into smaller groups where they would discuss what they felt God wanted to teach them through the sharing that night, and what they would take away from the presentation. 

Brady said those nights were so powerful and life-changing that he wants to become a leader who will continue to create that experience for others. 

And around that point in the program, maybe because my husband, Dave, and I were sitting close to the front and nudging each other, Pastor Dave Mitchell pointed out that David Franklin had started that ministry years ago.

"Contributed to it," my husband clarified. "In the late '80s."

Which was news to Brady, so we gave him a brief history of the start of Share, Prayer, and Dare afterwards when we went to congratulate him and thank him for sharing during the service.

David Franklin and Brady Long

Last night, I did a deep dive into my chronological stack of The Tabor College View student newspapers (of course I saved them. I was a reporter and then editor for all of my time at Tabor).

According to the View, the group Share, Prayer, and Dare started at the beginning of the 1988-89 school year. It was a ministry of the Campus Ministries Council and run completely by a committee of students. It replaced Tabor Fellowship, a group that had been meeting in the Schlicting Center, an intimate venue that easily held the handful of students who regularly attended. 

Share, Prayer, and Dare started in the Schlicting Center as well, but soon outgrew the small space and was moved to the cafeteria.

What changed? The View articles don't give the back story, but I remember. We have to go back to 1983.

My husband, David Franklin, and some of his friends became Christians while attending Fellowship of Christian Athletes. As sophomores at Wichita North High, they were excited about their new faith, and they set out to invite others. They held weekly Bible studies crammed in one friend's basement. When they outgrew that, it became his parents' front lawn. When that was no longer feasible, the high school students rented an elementary school gym for the evening. They passed a Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket for contributions to pay the $50 rent for the gym. 

Eventually, the group found a home for their city-wide non-denominational Thursday night Bible study downtown in an old coffee bar called The Dandelion. Several adult mentors (in their twenties and thirties) came alongside, like Earnest Alexander, Terry Williams, and Robert Lang. By that time, the Bible studies were regularly attracting 100 to 200 kids. Friends were telling friends. High schoolers were preaching. Everyone was praying. Kids were getting saved.  

David Franklin, who by this time had graduated from high school, left this environment to go play football at Tabor College. He chose Tabor because on his campus visit people seemed to genuinely want to follow Christ. But he found the Tabor Fellowship group to be lacking. 

So, he started inviting Campus Ministry Council leaders and others to attend the Thursday Night Bible Study in Wichita. Carloads would leave campus and make the hour-long drive to the Dandelion where they would see students worshipping, praying, sharing, and learning to live out their faith.

As a freshman, I started attending. I loved the excitement, the energy, the openness, the love, and the unity. As the semester wore on, some became too busy to continue attending, but I managed to find time on Thursday nights to catch a ride to the Bible study. A few times it was just David Franklin and me in his Subaru hatchback. We talked a lot on that hour drive there and back. But that's another story.

The Tabor students who had attended the Thursday Night Bible Study had caught a vision. That spring, they re-imagined what Tabor Fellowship could be, and they started with a new name that would describe what they would do:  share their struggles, pray for each other, and dare each other to live it out.

Dave Barton, a football player who David Franklin had invited to the Thursday Night Bible Study, became the chairperson. Another on the committee was Brenda Wichert, who wrote in the yearbook that the move to meet in the cafeteria ushered in a new tradition they called the "Table Game," where first arrivers would grab a partner and move the tables out of the way so the group could sit in a circle. Brenda reported that the 10-20 students in the group grew to 100 as the year progressed (a fourth of Tabor's student population at the time). "Many students gave their testimonies and shared with the group the changes they were making in their lives and how they were growing," Brenda said.

So it was good to hear from Brady that lives are still being changed through Share, Prayer, and Dare. The group now meets in the historic Mennonite Brethren church, which was moved to Tabor's campus in 1989.

And the Thursday Night Bible Study? Terry Williams, one of the "older" leaders who got involved went to seminary, came back and started River Community Church in Wichita. One of the other Bible study leaders was Dave Mitchell, who served as an associate pastor at River until starting Westridge in 2012.

Hebrews 10:24-25 "And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another--and all the more as you see the Day approaching."

God gave me you

"I would have been happy with a regular girl, but God gave me you!" I often told my daughter, Laurel, through the years as she would wow me with a skillful painting, a beautiful ceramic piece, a funny comment, or any number of amazing things. Her many artistic talents were a bonus, an extra that I loved and enjoyed. I often thought she was above and beyond the answer to my prayers.

Those prayers had come with increasing urgency as the year 1999 progressed. I certainly hoped we would have a third child and prayed it would be a girl. I was happy with our two boys, Caleb and Harrison, and I loved being a mom of boys, but I wanted a girl as well.

However, the calendar pages kept turning and I still wasn't pregnant. I counted ahead nine months to a possible birthdate, and my "deadline" was only a month away. I wanted to have our third child two years behind Harrison in school, so we had been trying for eight months already. Now, if it didn't happen this cycle the baby would most likely be three years behind him in school. 

Worse yet, my hoped-for daughter would a be a September or Fall baby like me. I had developed super early and always disliked being the biggest and tallest in the class. Being one of the oldest only made my early maturing more pronounced. 

My boys were at the top (or off of) the growth charts in both height and weight. Baby and kids' clothes sizes never matched their ages. At two years, they were already in 4T, and at four years size 6X was fitting pretty well. My husband, Dave, had been big too, and his mom loved to relay that "little David's" pediatrician had declared he was a "Green Bay Packer in diapers." So, any baby we produced seemed destined to be big.

That Thanksgiving, I was thrilled and thankful when I realized a cozy fireplace evening had resulted in pregnancy and the baby would be due in August, right before the September 1st school cutoff. This kid would be one of the youngest in the class, and I sincerely hoped it would be a girl.  

My pregnancy was healthy and uneventful, so my general practice doctor saw no reason to order a sonogram. This was the one pregnancy when I really did want to know the sex of our baby ahead of time, but it looked like that wouldn't be the case.

Then my church women's small group did a service project at the Pregnancy Crisis Center. We sorted and folded baby clothes and toured the center. The gal from our group who had organized the event had just started working there as a nurse who would be performing sonograms. As luck would have it, she needed experience on their equipment. Why not practice on my baby bump? I was all in!

My baby wasn't super cooperative that night. I was already far enough along that positioning became difficult, so my friend wasn't ready to give me a definitive answer, but as far as she could tell, I was carrying a girl. I was thrilled!

Because my family practice doctor who had delivered Caleb and Harrison no longer delivered babies, I would need to switch to another doctor in the group when I reached seven months pregnant. When I met the new doctor who would deliver my baby he went over my charts to get up-to-speed on my pregnancy.

"Do you know if you're having a boy or a girl?" he asked me.

"I had a sonogram at the Pregnancy Crisis Center, and she thought it was a girl." I told him.

He looked confusedly back at the chart and was silent for a long while. Finally, he tentatively asked, "Was there some reason you weren't excited about this pregnancy?"

Now it was my turn to be confused. This visit had taken a weird turn. I replayed "Pregnancy CRISIS Center" in my brain and suddenly understood. Whoops! I quickly explained I hadn't been a client seeking counseling or financial help at the center, but a volunteer of sorts. The sonogram had just been for practice. And I assured him that I certainly was excited about this pregnancy!

My girl Laurel came into this world sans drugs in two pushes at straight up 3:00 p.m. on August 17 as the doctor was walking into the room (he was delayed by a train). She weighed 8.9 lbs., just like her brothers. 

To leave the hospital, I put her in a little cotton print dress with matching bloomers that my mom had sewed for her. I had received cute outfits for my boys, but dressing my little baby doll girl was another level entirely. This was fun! I was smitten.

Laurel in the little cotton dress that she wore to leave the hospital. My mom made it for her.

My parents took the boys to the farm for the weekend, so Dave and I were at home with just our little baby girl. All I had to do was breastfeed Laurel (she hadn't been latching on correctly at first, but a lactation consultant at the hospital got us going great before we left) and then answer the door periodically as my women's small group delivered meals to us and peeked at our new pink bundle. I remember lounging on our mauve carpet, leaning against the flowered couch thinking, "Wow, this is so easy!"

I felt profoundly loved. God had honored my "deadline" and sent me a girl. He certainly didn't have to. But He had. I knew there were couples who agonized over infertility. Women who desperately wanted to be mothers. I had no answers for them. Deep in my heart I knew--this was personal. This was how God had showed his love to me. And I was grateful. 

Grandmother (Dave's mom) loved tea sets and tea parties, so this photo op was perfect. The doll's name is Janet (Grandmother's name). Grandmother gave the doll to Laurel, but it always stayed at Grandmother's for Laurel to play with there. Laurel has the doll at her house now.
Trey Allen (the photographer) used this photo in his sample album. I was not surprised.

When Laurel was a baby, her brothers didn't pay her a lot of attention, but by the time she turned one, she started to become more interesting to them. She liked to make them laugh and giggle at her antics. At Christmas, I told her we were going to see Dr. Hett and she touched her head (sounds similar). That became a game for weeks. Harrison would ask her, "Hey Laurel, do you want to see Dr. Hett?" When she would touch her head he'd laugh.

Laurel turned two years old on a camping vacation in Colorado. At the time, she could say a few words. Around November, she really started talking, and she could say almost anything she wanted. She talked a lot about Colorado, mountains, and sleeping in a tent. Dave said she was finally able to express all of the stuff she had stored up!

Laurel, age 2, hugs her dolly. We were camping at O'Haver Lake in Colorado.

When Laurel was three, I noted she was imaginative and social. She assigned roles in play and put herself in books. "I'm the little bear and you are the mommy. . ." She had an imaginary friend she named Jaya Bayma (I was never sure of the spelling or how she came up with that name!) Laurel liked playing with the little girls at Harrison's t-ball games that summer, and she was interested when Caleb started city league football practice because she thought there might be some girls she could play with. Sure enough, there were, and she did!

Also when she was three years old, Daddy brought home a Barbie bike with training wheels from a garage sale. She was excited to ride it and could pedal it right away and even rode it three miles on a ride in Sedgwick County Park. That fall the boys took her training wheels off her bike and put them on the top shelf in the garage, where Laurel couldn't get them. They did this possibly because I'd told them they'd learned to ride when they were four, and they wanted her to ride faster.

I was annoyed, though. Laurel had just turned four. I wasn't sure she was ready to learn, but I was pretty sure the nuts and bolts to put the training wheels back on were nowhere to be found. When the boys were at football practice Laurel got on the bike and I ran behind her as she got the hang of pedaling the bike without the training wheels. Before long she pedaled the few blocks to Columbine Park and showed Daddy and her brothers that she could ride. 

A year later, while in Bicycle Exchange to get a brake part for Caleb's bike, we saw the perfect bike for Laurel. It was a purple TREK and had a basket (which she had said she wanted), and tassels on the handlebars.  Dave told the sales guy, "If you saw how cute this little girl is you'd want to buy it for her too." I thought that was a sweet thing for a Daddy to say about his daughter.

Laurel was always good when I took her places. At PTA meetings she would sit in a corner and play with something I'd brought for her or look at books stored in the room. The three PTA moms I was closest to all had two sons each who were friends of Caleb and/or Harrison. One mom confessed to me later that one time when I wasn't around they'd had a lengthy discussion about how they all "wished they'd had a Laurel." She said she had told the others that even if she'd had a daughter, she was pretty sure she wouldn't have been a Laurel.

Since Laurel was so familiar with her brothers' school, her first day of kindergarten went great. When she came home, I heard more about what went on that day than I'd heard from the boys in an entire nine weeks!

Laurel, age 5, with her brand-new TREK bike.

We ignored their elementary school's guidelines on students being in 3rd grade before riding bicycle to school and let her ride to school with her brothers (Caleb was in 4th, Harrison in 2nd). One day she had trouble locking her bike with a new bike chain. She went inside and calmly told her teacher Mrs. Kennedy that she needed help. Mrs. Kennedy, who also taught both boys, said Caleb probably would have been worried and anxious, and Harrison might have been in tears, but Laurel was calm and self-assured.

Laurel always enjoyed going to Super Church and Vacation Bible School and listening to Bible stories at bedtime. When she had just turned 3 years old, she received a little pink Bible for reciting all of the 66 books of the Bible. The morning after March 9, 2005 (she was four years old) Laurel told me she had asked Jesus into her heart, except she said, "I didn't do the dead thing."

I didn't say too much, because I wasn't sure if she really knew the plan of salvation. I wondered if she thought accepting Jesus made you die immediately and go to heaven, something she wasn't quite ready to sign up for!

Later that day I heard her in an argument with her brothers. They said she wasn't a Christian and I heard her emphatically declare, "I am too a Christian, I asked Jesus into my heart!" You go, girl.

Laurel used her faith to help her be a good friend. When she was in 4th grade she told me about an incident at lunchtime. Her friend didn't feel well and was going to stay in the classroom and skip lunch. She could choose one classmate to bring a hot lunch from the gym back to the classroom to stay with her, and she chose Laurel. In the meantime at lunch in the gym, some boys made a mean comment to another friend of Laurel's. She was so upset she wanted to leave, but she didn't want to tell the teacher, Mr. Dexter, what they'd said. He asked her if she would tell Laurel, who he knew was back in the classroom. She said she would. At the classroom Laurel listened to her friend and hugged her. She felt the whole situation had been orchestrated so she could comfort her friends.

Laurel's compassion and creativity have led her to become an outstanding art teacher. She is also a fabulous Auntie, a caring girlfriend, a responsible homeowner, and a wonderful daughter. I am grateful.

Formal dining- Laurel inherited Grandmother's dining table and China cabinet after Aunt Julie decided she was finished with them. To celebrate the beloved table in its new home, Laurel prepared a steak dinner for family. I know Grandmother, who served so many excellent meals on that table, would be pleased and proud of her.

Laurel with her boyfriend, Kobe, who is also a teacher.

My Proof God is There

When I was eight years old I started a diary. Actually, I started a book titled "My Proof God is There," but like a lot of things, I second-guessed myself and erased my original title and replaced it with the bland "My Diary." The eraser marks are still there.

The inciting incident was a skirmish on the school bus, which I rode for nearly two hours every day as it went through the route picking up farm kids from our area north of Hillsboro, Kansas. I have re-typed it for ease of reading, but left most of my spelling errors. I was only in second grade, after all. 

Still, my second-grade faith challenges me. I got in the middle of a brother-sister feud and unintentionally broke his ceramic project. I felt terrible, but I couldn't fix the situation. All I could do was wait for God to work in the lives of my friends. I still remember my relief when I knew he had forgiven me. And I wrote this down so I would have proof that God was there.

My Proof God is There

My Diary

Dear Diary            May 15, 1977

I have been haveing trouble with Kristi. She told me to get Steven's bag because he had her blue pencil. So I got it. Steven was about to get it so I quick threw it to Kristi. Then I did not know what happened next but Steven started crying.I had no idea what happened. I tried to ask him but he just cried then when we were about to Sherry's house Steven gave me and ouffer (awful) smirk. I ask Kristy what I did to make him do that and she said I told you to GIVE me the bag not throw it. You broke one of his pottery peises. 

Now mommy asked me what my bible verse was and I said the Lord is my helper I will not fear what my friends do to me. She pointed right at me and said that verse is just what you need. It was!

May 16

Dear Diary,

Nothing today because Kris and Steven did not ride in the afternoon but I think Steven gave me a smirk at school otherwise so far so good.

May 17

My luck! Tomoro is fun day and I can't have to cans of pop because they will not give water or anything. And I can't have anything for refreshment. Worse yet on feild day!

May18

Steven has forgiven me! Oh thank you God. I geuss it was rather funny how he did it he said Karen I'll sit with you so you can break something but I could not have found a better way.

May 23, 1977

Dear Diary

I am sorry I have not wittern sooner first of all I went to the cud scout carvenl and I think Kris has forgiven me

A good and perfect gift

My previous blog post was about my firstborn son, Caleb. When I linked it to Facebook I'd thought the "teaser" photo would be the first one I'd put in, of Caleb a few days old. However, it ended up being the second one, of Caleb and my second born son, Harrison. I'd said that Caleb was a child of promise from the beginning, but didn't mention Harrison. Well, here's the rest of the story. . .

I had a miscarriage when Caleb was about 10 months old. Shortly after, I got pregnant again. We were excited, but nervous. In May, at eight weeks pregnant I lost some amniotic fluid. The doctor said, "take it easy" and "no lifting." Still, it was a 50-50 chance that the baby would survive.

Right after this diagnosis we went to Arizona on vacation as planned, and Dave lifted our suitcases and carried Caleb the entire time. And I had no more trouble during the pregnancy. On Dec. 6 we attended Winterfest downtown and saw the fireworks. After, we camped out in the Seneca St. McDonald's play place so Caleb could run off steam and we could count my contractions.

We dropped Caleb off at Grandmother's then headed to the hospital. During the night I narrowly missed having a C-section, but Harrison was born naturally on Sunday morning, 7:44 a.m. on December 7, 1997. 

When the doctors had left and the and nurses had finished cleaning him up, I was alone in the hospital room with my baby. (Was Dave off getting breakfast somewhere? I don't remember). I could see him sleeping so peacefully under the heat lamp. I wanted a photo of this moment. 

 

A good and perfect gift- Harrison, hours old in the hospital

So, I got out of my hospital bed, grabbed my camera, and took it. James 1:17 filled my mind, "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows."

He was perfect. Despite the pregnancy scare early on, despite them not finding his heartbeat while I was in labor during the night (I'm pretty sure it was an equipment malfunction and nothing to do with him), he was healthy. My gift from God.

Harrison was a good baby, and grew into a happy, thoughtful boy. When I had to tell him "no," he stopped what he was doing. I wasn't used to that!

From the beginning, Harrison liked to cuddle. Soon, I realized Harrison was a good hugger. He would hug with just the right amount of pressure, for just the right amount of time. Later, he would even offer hugs at just the right times.

One winter evening Harrison asked me how he could know he would go to Heaven. I told him he could ask Jesus into his heart right then. He wanted to, and we prayed together. Then we told Caleb that Harrison was a Christian now. Caleb wanted to become one too! Caleb made a sign to commemorate the occasion, I snapped some photos, and then we went to Braum's for ice cream.

Caleb Harrison CHRISTIANS January 22, 2002

Harrison liked playing with Rescue Heroes, and his favorite Halloween costume was Batman, and he loved his Superman summer jammies that we couldn't resist buying for him when we went to buy Caleb some new pajamas to wear to McLean's end-of-year pajama party.

Superhero- Harrison's favorite Superman pajamas

Harrison also liked animals. He would try to catch the barn cats when we visited the farm. He liked the succession of kittens we attempted raise and was the one to name them:  Rosie, Raja, and Princess. Unfortunately, each met an early demise.

Caleb and Harrison with Grandpa and Grandma Epp's farm dog, Ebony.

Harrison loved his stuffed animals and gave them all really good names. One white, fluffy dog was Happy. A teddy bear was Growl. 

On visits to Osco (where my Aldi is now) we would make sure to go down the aisle with the stuffed animals. His favorite was a large German shepherd that he would hug and pet. I would always pet a little black-and-white tuxedo kitty because it reminded me of my favorite childhood cat, Oscar. Since the German shepherd was a more expensive item and his birthday and Christmas were a long way off, he would put it back and say "goodbye" until next time.

Then Harrison came into some cash. (Birthday money? I don't remember). He decided he wanted to buy the German shepherd, so we went to Osco. Excitedly, he pulled the stuffed dog out of the cubby and gave it a hug. (What was his name?) Then he also picked up the tuxedo kitty and asked if he had enough money to buy it for me. He did.

With tears in my eyes, I nearly told Harrison he didn't need to buy me the kitty. But I sensed that this was something important he wanted to do, and I let him. And I thanked him. And I have kept Oscar in a little basket on my dresser ever since, and I think about Harrison's sacrificial love, and his sweet, giving spirit.

Oscar, the stuffed kitty that reminded me of my favorite cat growing up, Oscar Meyer Weiner Schnitzel.

At the beginning of his sophomore year in high school, Harrison suffered a severe concussion at football practice which ended his football and wrestling careers. He didn't seem to mind the loss, but I wondered what he would end up doing with his life.

Harrison Franklin as a high school senior

His compassion for others and desire to help led him to become a real, live Rescue Hero and join the Coast Guard. He was sad when his ultimate goal to be a rescue diver wasn't to be (turns out he's colorblind. We never knew!). I, however, was grateful I didn't have to wonder if he was jumping into stormy seas at any given moment to assist shipwreck victims.  

Cape May, NJ- Harrison at his Coast Guard graduation.

Still, he was on a ship, the "Sherman," and contact with him was limited. I had to trust that he was in God's hands. One day I was shopping at Kirkland's and God gave me a little reminder of his gift to me.

I saw this when I was shopping in December of 2016. Harrison was stationed in Hawaii and on a ship somewhere on the Pacific Coast. He went as far south as Panama and as far north as Alaska.

When Harrison received his assignment to go Astoria, Oregon, he married Olivia Thomas, whom he'd met in Wichita two months before shipping out with the Coast Guard. With his sensitive and compassionate nature, I'd always thought Harrison would make someone an excellent husband. With her creativity and sense of adventure, Olivia has been good wife for him.

Engaged- Olivia and Harrison, December 2017

Harrison and Olivia loved living in Oregon and took advantage of the many hiking opportunities. I was thankful that when they couldn't come back to Kansas, they often spent holidays with Dave's brother Eric in Washington, about three hours from their place. It helped to know they were with family.

When Harrison finished his Coast Guard assignment, they moved back to Wichita. Since he'd had considerable fire training, he pursued a career with the Wichita Fire Department and was hired in September of 2022. I'd always thought Harrison's compassionate nature would make him a good person to comfort someone in distress. I also know he has the guts to do daring things. Now he's putting that to use in crisis, sharing his gift with people in need.

 

Down at the station- Kathy and Eric Franklin joined Dave and me on a firehouse visit last year. Harrison showed us around until he had to leave on a call. The place was vacated within a minute!

Promises Kept

 The Children of Israel would always point to the parting of the Red Sea as the unmistakable display of God's power and protection. I have a time in my life that I point to as God speaking directly to me.

It occurred when Dave and I had been married for over four years and were wanting to start a family. We'd been trying for a few months with no luck, and the difficulties my mom had getting pregnant made me concerned I might have trouble as well.

Dave and I had been mentoring a boy through Youth Horizons, and he was in the process of getting out of foster care and becoming available for adoption. Was it God's plan for us to adopt him?

I had started reading through the Bible that year and came to Abraham's story in Genesis. Childless, he was asking God if his servant Eliezer would be the one to inherit his estate. God's answer to him came straight to me:
"This man will not be your heir, but a son coming from your own body will be your heir." Gen. 15:4.
I copied the verse on the dated page in my planner.

The boy was adopted by another family.

A couple of months later I'd worked my way to the book of Numbers. Moses sent 12 spies to check out Canaan, the promised land. When they returned, only two, Joshua and Caleb, expressed confidence that God would fight for them and give them the land. The Lord's anger burned against the 10 spies who were afraid, and He declared that none of them would ever see the promised land. 

Numbers 14:24 leaped out at me. "But because my servant Caleb has a different spirit and follows me wholeheartedly, I will bring him into the land he went to, and his descendants will inherit it."

When I went to Colombia in 1988, one of the missionary couples had a cute little baby named Caleb. I'd liked the name ever since. "Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a boy named Caleb who follows God wholeheartedly?" I thought with longing.

A few weeks later I learned I was pregnant, and already had been when I'd read the verse. We named him Caleb. My prayer has always been that he would follow God wholeheartedly. 

And I also prayed to be the kind of mom who had the wisdom, patience, and love to direct a child on that journey. And I prayed that I could follow wholeheartedly as well. 

Caleb, four days old

I used my PageMaker computer program to print out Numbers 14:24 and framed it for his room.

As a six-year-old Caleb made a decision to ask Jesus into his heart the same night his four-year-old brother Harrison did. 

It's a sign- Caleb Harrison CHRISTIANS January 22, 2002

But as the years went by it seemed Caleb was making more and more choices on his own, and I began to despair that he would ever follow God wholeheartedly. With 20/20 hindsight, I saw mistakes I'd made as a mom. I even began to wonder if I'd heard correctly all those years ago. 

On December 7, 2017 (when Caleb was 21) I was reading the beautiful Christmas story of Mary and Elizabeth meeting while both were pregnant and Luke 1:45 jumped out at me. Elizabeth says of Mary's faith, "Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished."  

I remembered the promise I'd felt God made to me while I was pregnant with my firstborn son. I wrote in my prayer journal, "I am believing that the rest will be accomplished. Help my unbelief."

A few months later Caleb and his new girlfriend, June, stopped by after they'd eaten at Carriage Crossing by Yoder. In the little gift shop, he'd bought a sign that somehow had made him think of me. "God Keeps His Promises." 

Caleb Franklin and June Baldessari after hunting Easter eggs and saying "goodbye" to Grandpa Epp for the last time. 2018. 

I looked at Caleb and the sign, wondering exactly what it meant to him. The cynical side of me thought that maybe Caleb could help God out a little bit by making better choices. The spiritual side of me sensed that whether Caleb was conscious of it or not, he was hand-delivering to me confirmation from God that He indeed would keep His promise.

Caleb and June got married and had Rose (not in that order). Little brother Wesley soon followed. I've seen Caleb choose his wife and family over himself. I've seen him working hard to support his family. I've seen him making increasingly good choices. 

Caleb and Rose on her first day of kindergarten

But serving God wholeheartedly? Not yet. 

To be fair, I don't serve God wholeheartedly either. I want to. That is the desire of my heart, most days. That is the direction I would love for my life to point.

Last year, I was reading through the Old Testament again and thinking about how the Children of Israel had to wait 40 years to enter the Promised Land. At 4:30 a.m. on May 2, 2023, I felt like God said 40 years for Caleb. I almost didn't want to commit that to the paper in my prayer journal. "I want it now," I thought. "He's only 27. I don't want to wait 13 more years!"

A dozen years doesn't seem as long as it used to though. Even when I hear the stories of waiting 40 years, it doesn't have the interminable quality that it had when I was in Sunday School. I am reminded of one of my favorite songs that our friend Earnest Alexander sings, "You Can't Hurry God."

The chorus says:

"You can't hurry my God, no, no, no, you just have to wait. You gotta trust the Lord and give Him time, No matter how long it may take. He's a God you can't hurry, He'll be there, you don't have to worry. Oh He may not come when you want Him, But He's right on time." 

So, I am trusting in God's promises and praying that I can serve Him wholeheartedly as I wait.