Sunday Wrapup--June 19, 2016

Today was the first Father's Day since my Dad died.  I thought of him often today and missed him.  In church, Abe Y., who grew up here, recalled something he heard Dad preach while Abe was a child.  That was nice.  I remembered that on the last card I gave my Dad I wrote that I never wished for a better father--because I was blessed with a very good one, and I was grateful.  I'm glad I got that said, since there was no time for a goodbye when he died suddenly.

So very often, when something good happens in the church community, I remember how much he enjoyed such things.  He loved to listen to good public presentations,  and loved to interact with others who were present.  He also liked talking on the phone to distant friends and visiting local ones in their homes.

Today I opened a composition notebook to record some ideas I had for teaching Language Arts next year, and found that it contained, in Dad's handwriting, an article he wrote for the Mennonite World Review.  It was a response to an article published on October 24.  It was not published in the Letters from Readers section, but in regular article form.  It was about the Miller case, and was one of the very last of his published writings.  I must have picked up the notebook when the household belongings of my parents were dispersed.

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We've just come through a stretch of really hot and windy weather, with some weather drama thrown in--high winds, hail, rain, and phenomenal skyscapes.  Today was idyllic--a high of about 82, sunny, with a light breeze.  We ate lunch on the patio to celebrate the lovely weather and the Father's Day holiday.

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Last Tuesday evening the Shenandoah Music Camp Chamber Choir sang here.  Their director, Lloyd Kauffman, commented that well-written hymns contain enough truth to [show us the way to God].  I can't remember exactly how he finished the sentence.  Many of the pieces they sang were simply scriptures set to music.  Only a few were familiar hymns, but some of the names of composers were people I know.  And yes, the songs were full of truth--well stated and well-sung.

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One of the few things on my bucket list is writing a poem that someone will set to music.  I've prayed for several years that God would give me a message.  Within the past few weeks, inspiration came, and I've been writing and tweaking ever since.  I'm just as reluctant to share what is only partially finished as I've always been, so I won't say a lot more about it now.  I will say that the subject of the poem is one that had never occurred to me as being appropriate hymn material.  Yet since I started writing, I've found references to what I'm writing about "all over the place"--in my morning Scripture readings, in fragments of existing hymns, in Christian publications, even in Facebook discussions.  Each of these references have served to clarify my thinking.  When meanings and rhythms and cadences didn't sound quite right, God has given me the words I needed to change things till they sounded much better.  Every time I make enough handwritten changes to make the paper messy, I make the corrections in the document and print out a new one.  I think I'm on the fifth copy.  I always tuck the newest one in my devotions notebook.

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Last week I had obligations away from home every single day except for the day I had Grant and Clarissa's boys here.  That was a good day--better than those medical appointments.  One was for seating a new crown--in my mouth--not on my head.  The others were routine and boring.

On Monday I spoke to the other Master Gardeners about Field Grown Cut Flowers, and Saturday I joined other family members in cleaning the church building.  I had to skip the regular workday at the HCC Demonstration Garden (conflicting appointment) and got back from the appointment just in time to listen to most of David A. Miller's funeral online.  Four of his children were former students of mine, and his son Dwight is one of our pastors--married to my cousin Karen (Troyer).

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In the past few weeks, at least four of the local extended families have had a reunion here.  This week it was the Melvin Yoder and the Ora Nisly family.  Many of the Fred Nisly descendants were together this weekend too.  Last week it was the Ed Nisly family.  The week before that it was the John (Hans) and Emma Miller family.

Daniel Nisly has been hospitalized for most of the past number of weeks, with seriously diminished lung function.  At the end of last week he was transferred to hospice care.  All of his siblings and their spouses were present at the Ed Nisly family reunion, and for a short time, in a hospital room, Daniel and Iva and the rest were all together.  I saw a picture as proof.

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Joel and Hilda and their family are headed shortly to Switzerland for a conference (retreat) and vacation.  So far they have escaped the chikungunya that is running rampant in their city, but Joel's boss is ill now with this mosquito-borne disease.  Since the boss's family is leaving soon for a year away, Joel will have increased responsibility at work, and I'm sure this vacation feels like a calm before the storm, or maybe smooth sailing in contrast to the doldrums is a more apt analogy.

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Yesterday Shane brought over his mower and Grant's extended-reach chain saw to help Hiromi with some outdoor chores as a Father's Day gift.  He accomplished in short order what would have taken Hiromi much longer, both because of Shane having better equipment and possessing youthful energy and skills.  One of the tasks he accomplished was cutting off a branch that had partially broken off in the high winds we had last week.  It still hung suspended high in the Kentucky Coffee tree.  Another large branch from the Ash tree has grown over the spirea bushes and threatened to overwhelm them.  He made short work of that too.

I had already mowed the yard around the house with the push mower--which I started doing voluntarily to avoid having to look at what the riding mower does to the grass.  There seems to be no remedy for the mower deck tilting and creating uneven lines in the grass, to say nothing of the damage to the grass from its frequent near-scalping.

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Wheat harvest is in full swing, but the high humidity and occasional rains have inserted some sputters into the operation.  Dire forecasts for large hail prompted a lot of prayers, and the worst-case scenarios did not materialize here, although we did have some hail as big as round cheese puffs--mostly marble size though.

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I'll do the hymn post tomorrow.