Steele (the Day)

Lean Not

// July 27th, 2009 // 11 Comments » // Uncategorized

I clearly remember the day this was handed to me by chubby, sticky fingers on a Sunday morning about 24 years ago. Sunday School fingers were always sticky from rice krispie treats and glue. “Pick off the Elmerts, Mom. My fingers feel funny.” This little one was always creeped out by his fingers feeling funny – he even got the heebie-jeebies when I trimmed his nails.

“I made this for you, Mom,” he said as he proudly reached up and handed it to me.

I loved it instantly. Proverbs 3:5 has always been one of my favorite scriptures, and now it was etched in my heart forever, conjuring up memories of ice-blue eyes and perfectly parted and combed platinum hair.

The overlapping red hearts are now faded to a light rose color. For a few months this had its place on the fridge, but as the artwork got rotated and things were moved to storage bins, I couldn’t put this one away just yet.

I moved it to a place I would see it often. Three small children allowed me to frequent the laundry room several times a day (some days I actually went there to do laundry and not just hide), so the appropriate place seemed to be next to the detergent shelf where the stray GI Joes and Barbie shoes were safe after being rescued from little pockets.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart.”

Throughout the pre-pubescent years, the unending laundering of athletic gear, and loads of “boat towels,” this verse washed me clean with every visit to the Maytag.

By the time we built our home and moved 13 years ago, those fingers had morphed from chubby and sticky to adolescent gnawed nails that could palm a basketball. And testosterone-laced rebellion and pride had reared its ugly head. The verse had found a new home above the door of our bedroom closet, and I still read it every day as I get dressed and grab my shoes.

Every day.

I don’t remember what the argument was about, but no doubt I had given a firm “No” to a request to do something that “everyone else was doing,” And thinking in my head that I was not going to use the “if everyone else jumped off a cliff….” line like my own mother had used. But I probably did.

And he was furious. After storming through the house and taking down all the pictures I had displayed of him, he went into my closet and ripped the gift of Proverbs off the wall – and out of my heart.

I groveled. I begged. No matter what, I needed that verse. “Do with the pictures what you will, but I want that verse. I’m begging you.”

He relented. I got the verse, though a quarter of it had been torn off in the ruckus. I remember sitting in the closet crying my eyes out, taping it together, and for a couple of days I hid it in my underwear drawer.

All precious things are safe among the granny panties, aren’t they?

A few days later, it took up residence again in its proper spot in our closet, taped securely to the wall. It has been there ever since.

Last Thursday, I opened the closet to find the verse had fallen off the wall and landed stuck between the hangers of my pants. Not thinking too much about it, I stuck it back to the wall, noting that even in a closet, old construction paper continues to fade.

The words do not.

Friday, I opened the closet door and it fell down again. As I tried to catch it, it floated out the door onto the dresser, propelled by a vigorous ceiling fan. I took the Fun-Tak off the wall, re-molded it in my fingers, and firmly replaced it.

Yesterday, after a fitful, discontinuous 1 1/2 hours of Friday night sleep, I opened the closet door to grab a pair of socks, and the verse had dropped off the wall again. This time it landed on the top of my sock box.

Of course. God likes to get our attention that way.

Once again, I replaced it. Scotch tape this time.

This morning, I opened the closet to grab clothes for church. My first step was smack in the middle of the dry, cracked construction paper.

OK, Lord, I’m listening!!

He is painfully aware I haven’t been listening enough. There are no accidents.

I replaced it this time with electrical tape firmly taped in circles on the back. I could care less what residue and gunk is left on the wall. Next time I may have to use duct tape.

Like that would make a difference when He wants to get His point across.

⁶ in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight.

⁷ Do not be wise in your own eyes;
fear the LORD and shun evil.

Final Goodbye

// June 30th, 2009 // 6 Comments » // Uncategorized

Coach Thomas praying with his team before the West Marshall game 2008 – the first game after an EF-5 tornado destroyed much of Parkersburg a year ago, including the high school and Coach’s home.

Today our community said goodbye to Coach Thomas. Not just our community – friends, former students, and former athletes from all over the country. College coaches. Local farmers. A US Senator and our Governor. The tiny town of Parkersburg, Iowa was transformed into a grieving sea of people from all walks of life.

Ron Burgundy, Rick Coleman, and I stood in line for 3 1/2 hours last night to pay our respects to the family. The visitation was supposed to be from 3:30 to 8. We went at 7:00 and the line snaked through the tiny town of P’burg. Around 8:15 a friend of the family wandered to the end of the line and said “The family will stay until you have all been through. They want to speak to each of you.” We got home at 11:45 pm.

The Thomas family literally held up every one of those mourners as they went through the line. Only God could give them that strength.

We’re talking thousands of people here, folks. People from every walk of life. People from every demographic. People of every race, creed, and color. Those are the people Ed touched. Most of them were not football players.

While we waited in line, we saw old friends and shared funny stories. It was impressive to see the players who played for Coach and are now in the NFL come back to honor him as pall bearers. The chatter became more somber as we neared the church, and the sight as we entered was breathtaking. Flowers, plants, photographs, and memorabilia everywhere. Coach’s life flashing in front of our eyes.

As we stood by the casket, the largest of two strong, burly, kick-boxing men I was with was reduced to tears. Sobbing, shoulder-shaking tears. I always carry Kleenex, and Rick didn’t have his man-bag.

Ed’s wife hugged my two companions who had been a part of Ed’s life like she would never let them go. Like she couldn’t let them go. Their lives had been intertwined for many years. The church is quite small, and only family and close friends were given invitations to sit in the church for the funeral. The family asked Ron and Rick to be among them. The overflow would be in the community center and available via video feed.

Not wanting to take seats away from family, these two humble men hemmed and hawed, but the family insisted.

As we walked the 6 blocks back to the car, Ronnie said to me “I don’t think I’ve ever been so honored by anything in my life.” That’s saying a lot. After all, this guy has a key to the city and had a street named after him, among other things. All of those things paled in comparison.

Because this honor was all about relationships. And love. And God.

And a relationship with a loving God.

They had that in common more than anything.

At the service today, Ed’s eldest son said “You can be sad the rest of the day, but come tomorrow, once you wake up, it’s time to get going … There’s a lot of work to be done in this town.” That’s what his dad would have wanted him to say.

You can read more stores and memories about Coach here.

I still don’t understand, but after listening to Pete Wilson’s final “Q” series tonight, I was l left refreshed by a couple of Pete’s comments:

Ron put together his final tribute to Coach Thomas tonight. You owe it to yourself to watch.

Now let’s get going. Coach would want us to.

Tea tonight: green with acai

I Just Don’t Understand

// June 25th, 2009 // 12 Comments » // Uncategorized

This little blog post will go buried in the searches on ESPN.com, CNN.com, and FoxNews.com, but I’m feeling a need to let my own heart grieve through my keyboard.

A year ago I posted here and here about a small town just a few miles from us that suffered devastating loss of life and possessions from an F-5 tornado. There were so many hurting people, and the Cedar Valley rallied around them in support.

In the midst of the rebuilding, the local football coach showed his exquisite leadership as he led his team in the reconstruction, vowing to have the football field ready for the first home game, despite the fact his own home and the school had been leveled. Football has been the cornerstone of this small Iowa town, and what better way to acknowledge recovery than to have their champion team back on the field, fondly known as the “Sacred Acre,” with the entire town in the stands on that September Friday night celebrating their survival of a natural disaster.

Today, Coach Ed Thomas was shot and killed by one of his former players.

This man was a legendary football coach, the 2005 NFL High School Coach of the Year, he shepherded 4 players who currently play the NFL, and was above all, a man of God. A deacon in his church and a mentor to thousands over his 34 years of coaching and teaching in Parkersburg, his goal was to make sure his students and athletes were the best young men and women they could be.

It was well known that his priorities were
1. Faith
2. Family
3. Football

He never put those in any other order.

I knew Coach Thomas as “the formidable opposition” when my boys played football. When I took the leap to be a high school tennis coach, he was an encouraging and inspiring teacher in my coaching certification class. Coaching and mentoring young people was his passion. But he was an inspiration to this non-traditional student as well.

Tonight my heart aches in so many directions. Like my daughter told me tonight, God knew this was the plan long before it happened. I know I will find more comfort in those words as time passes.

The father of the young man who shot Coach T serves as a deacon in the same church as Coach and is a friend of the family. He played on Coach’s first football team in Parkersburg in 1975. The accused’s younger brother is a senior on the A-P football team this fall. Coach and the shooter’s father often prayed together for the life of turmoil this young man was leading. The collateral damage of this troubled young man’s actions is unmeasurable – the ripples go far beyond this small Iowa town of 3,000 and extend across our nation because of the number of lives he has touched over the years.

In a news conference today, Coach Thomas’ son Aaron so eloquently asked for prayer for his family, as well as a request to keep the shooter’s family in our prayers. And Ron Burgundy put his whole heart into this tribute to Coach Thomas.

I just don’t understand. But I have faith that someday I will. Tonight I will wrestle with either Jerry Bridges or Harold Kushner as I try to put some perspective on this.

But for now, I just don’t understand. And I think God’s OK with that, because it literally brings me to my knees – again.

Praying on Wheels

// June 23rd, 2009 // 11 Comments » // Faith, My Fabulous Life

It was one of those days – I felt like I was the complaint department, a procrastinator, and a whipping post, all rolled into one. I started out the day with a delightful to-do list, and by 5:00, a half-hour after alleged quitting time, I multitasked quickly, eating my leftover yogurt, berries, and granola leftover from lunch at my desk. And stared blankly at the list with not one thing crossed off.

I apparently got paid to work a day for which I had nothing to show except a few satisfied people. So in reality, I worked with all my heart. It had to be good enough, because I could work no longer.

I needed a bike ride – badly. Quiet time, away from my phone, my computer, and out in the beautiful sun that kept peeking through the window of the exercise lab while all the patients moaned “how dad-gum hot it is out there.”

Grabbing my stuff, I hopped in my car. This was going to be one cool ride. Surely a bike ride would be better than the first 10 minutes in a car that was probably 120 degrees, because this is what my thermometer said it was like outside. It was only a few months ago that same thermometer read -21 degrees! For certain, I had not had enough water yet today.

I hit the bike trail and listened to Louie Giglio, then Fee, then a little Andy Stanley. And I rode up to my favorite place, the labyrinth. I love walking through there and praying, and recalled how many times I’ve done that in the past few years, and trying to recall what was weighing on my heart at the time. Whatever it was, it had passed.

It was usually one of the kids. It’s always at least one of the kids. Because you never stop worrying about them and you pray for them incessantly.

Other than the rocks in my bike sandals, it’s such a peaceful place to be. One foot in front of the other.

Time escaped me, as it often does when I’m lost in prayer, song, and scripture lessons. I headed back a little later than I had intended. The darkness doesn’t scare me, but an empty water bottle and feeling like I had a blood sugar of about 30 does. My yogurt wasn’t sticking to my ribs much at this point. And yes, it was very, very HOT.

I pulled into our neighborhood weak, tired, dehydrated, but feeling much more peaceful than when I left home. Sometimes I pray very hard for people in my life to see things the way I think that God wants them to see. Or maybe for them to just view circumstances with another set of eyes. To have faith in God’s vision for their lives rather than their own vision. To let go of the plans they have and to submit to His plan. And in the process to stop and thank Him for a sunset that you might have missed if you hadn’t been paying attention.

How many sunsets have you missed without paying attention to them? He painted them just for you, you know.

Tea tonight: are you kidding me?? Water, water, banana, shower, and bed! No tea for me!

Click to pray

// March 25th, 2009 // 7 Comments » // Uncategorized

Little Girl. Pink Shirt. Big Tears.

// February 15th, 2009 // 10 Comments » // Uncategorized

Today in church the Sunday School kids got up to sing a song – “We Want to See Jesus Lifted High” with all the arm motions and the whole nine yards. The usual suspects were there. The shy ones, the talented performers who you know will be performing long into their adult years, and the ones who are craving attention and exaggerating all the movements. Not looking too cool, but making some great footage for the graduation highlight reel. The kind you know will need to be peeled off the wall the rest of the afternoon.

I looked for her after church and never found her. I wanted to tell her how pretty she is and how much Jesus loves her. That she can be a princess or a ballerina or anything she wants to be. But I never saw her again.

Join the Wagie Ride for Tuesday

// February 7th, 2009 // 6 Comments » // Uncategorized

Today, at 11:00 a.m., family and friends are gathering in Parker, Colorado, to celebrate Tuesday Whitt with a “wagie ride” parade.We want them to know that the celebration is not only in Parker. It’s in California and Texas. In Ohio and Michigan. In Illinois and New York. In Canada and South Africa. Right here in Iowa. And in even more places than I can name. Please join us in a “wagie ride,” a sled pull, a spin on your bike or a Saturday drive. Keep Tuesday in your heart today. Keep her family and friends in your prayers. Write a story. Take pictures. Create a post. Link up to Mr. Linky here. We love Tuesday!

Tea at this moment: Jasmine

I Loved Them Enough, But Did I Love Them Right??

// February 6th, 2009 // 10 Comments » // Uncategorized

One of my IVL friends posted the question on her blog the other day, asking if we (the blogosphere) have any regrets. My first impulse was to say “Who, me? What in the world could I possibly regret?” Then this little voice in my head (or was it the voice in my little head?) said “Shut up and don’t answer, or you’ll hog the entire comments section…”

My kids are all smart in very different ways. There’s tremendous some common sense, enviable some critical thinking skills, good great writing talent, and great above average analytical thinking. None were fiscally prudent as teens and young adults, but then, they didn’t exactly have Warren Buffet as a mentor.

They were blessed with SuckerMom. You want it? You got it. Because I love you.

I’m proud that they have grown up to be kind, respectful, and loving, but not always to each other. They’re siblings.

In other words, they are human. Beautifully, wonderfully, perfectly, and yes, sinfully human. Born in His image, made to seek Him, and still searching for the answers to life.

I often wonder why I didn’t teach my offspring to deal with disappointment with a little more grace and acceptance and as a routine part of life. How to tough out the disasters and heartbreak life hurls at you. To “find the glory in suffering.” To recognize that God will not keep them in the darkness, yet He never promised them a perfectly happy life either – on earth, at least.

I probably wouldn’t have listened to this advice had it been given to me at the right time. I commented to a blog friend today, I want some “do-overs.” The consequences for not getting it right the first time are very heavy today.

But if I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t make it quite so easy for them. As a matter of fact, I would have made them darned close to miserable.

A bit poorer. A little more tired. And a lot hungrier.

Rather than doing the paper route myself and allow a teenager to sleep in because I loved him so much, I would drag his sorry butt out of bed…because I loved him so much.

Rather than not make a careless, unapologetic teenager pay to fix the dented garage door frame because I loved him so much, I would make him work his skinny tushy off and figure out how to get that door frame fixed…because I loved him so much.

Rather than offering a mall shopping trip (lunch included) to a sobbing teen rejected by friends because I loved her so much, I would talk it out, let her cry it out, and show her how to suck it up…because I loved her so much.

Life stinks sometimes. It throws us curve balls, fast balls, and we get beaned by foul balls. It breaks hearts, spirits, and wills. But God will never leave us where we are – He is only asking us to perservere because He has so many wonderful plans for us, and He wants us to feverishly seek Him in order to fulfill those plans. Sometimes He will bring us to our knees, sometimes flat on our faces, sometimes even drag us through the mud – just to get our attention. He doesn’t care if we come to Him angry, questioning, and untrusting – He just wants us to come to Him, and beg for His mercy. Because any relationship with Him is the start to a wonderful relationship with Him. And He has such wonderful plans for that relationship.

It’s a tough lesson to learn as an adult, but it’s never too late to learn.

I asked for riches that I might be happy; I was given poverty that I might be wise.

I asked for all things that I might enjoy life; I was given life that l might enjoy all things.

I was given nothing that I asked for; But everything that I had hoped for.

Tea today: Young hyson

Calling All Prayer Warriors

// January 22nd, 2009 // 9 Comments » // Uncategorized

Shaken Faith

// January 15th, 2009 // 6 Comments » // Uncategorized

I’d like to think that if when something horrible happens to me, my trust and faith will always remain Heavenward. In the few times in my life when I have felt emotionally distraught, perhaps even end-of-my-ropish, I can honestly say I never felt like my Father abandoned me. Others maybe, but not Him.