When our family got together for our reunion about a month ago, it was the first time I was even remotely aware that our nephew’s six month old daughter, Ariel, was possibly affected by SMA,(Spinal Muscular Atrophy) a genetic disorder that, in infants, is usually fatal within the first year.  I’ve watched the faith journey of Jeremy and Cheryl in the years since they began their relationship, and have come to realize that God has chosen to do extraordinary works of Grace in their hearts and lives.  They have yielded to Him in ways that speak of unusual trust in a God who makes no mistakes, but is always leading them on adventures that are challenging, scary to contemplate and volatile in nature.  And it seems to happen with such consistent regularity that it cannot be a coincidence.

It was with a heavy heart that I realized that this much desired, greatly loved and precious daughter of a much loved nephew and his incredible wife was in need of a miracle.  ”A miracle of such magnitude,” I thought, but was immediately corrected in my spirit.  A miracle is by definition always “of magnitude” or it isn’t a miracle.  My thoughts were scrambling over themselves as I thought about this young family and their unwavering commitment to believe God for what seems (and is, by human standards) impossible. I decided that I would also pray for that miracle for Ariel.  And that when I pray for her by name, specifically, I would also pray for Jeremy and Cheryl, and Max and Boaz, Ariel’s devoted brothers.

I shed some hot tears that evening after the reunion, and that feeling of heaviness, that something just wasn’t right woke me and followed my steps in the morning.  I got my ladies ready for church, prepared lunch for family members who were passing through, and went to church.  Our talented and animated song leader, Abi, was in charge of the singing for worship that morning and she did her usual exceptional job.  We sang through several hymns, and then she announced #335 in the Mennonite Hymnal.  I flipped the pages and read the title.  ”Children of the Heavenly Father”

My heart caught in my throat.  ”What an appropriate song,” I thought, “for little Ariel. How like The Father to lead Abi to lead this song this morning.” 

Children of the Heavenly Father
Safely in His bosom gather.

Suddenly, it was like the Spirit of the Lord spoke to my heart and said, “This song isn’t for Ariel.  It’s all about Jeremy and Cheryl.”  I began to listen more closely to the words.

Nestling bird nor star in Heaven
Such a refuge e’re was given

I suddenly got at picture of this young couple, gathered close to God’s heart as the storm raged around them. It was an incredibly safe place, and a refuge that was theirs alone.

We began the second verse:

Neither life not death shall ever
From the Lord His children sever –

The tears began to prickle behind my eyelids, and the words stuck in my throat. 

Unto them, His Grace He showeth,
And their sorrows all He knoweth.

Although my voice was clouded and I could not sing, my heart was singing.  God is showing and will never stop showing and giving Grace.  And He knows their sorrows, and their sorrows that have become ours as a family.  ”He knows!  He knows!  He knows!”  The words permeated my heart.

Our congregation moved quietly and reverently into the third verse. 

Though He giveth, or He taketh
God His children ne’er forsaketh

Precious promise!  They (and those who love them) will never be forsaken.  I knew this in my head, but on this uncertain day, my heart needed to catch up.

His the loving purpose solely
To preserve them, pure and holy.   

The tears were more than prickling now.  Coursing down my cheeks, but with no angst, no bitterness.  I bowed my heart before the Sovereign Lord.

I will continue to pray for the miracle.  I know that God does the impossible.  But the thing that is clear to me is that God is working in the lives of this young couple (and in our lives as a family) in ways that go far beyond the here and now.

Ariel’s family rejoices over her.  They celebrate who she is and what God is going to do through her.  

This story is far from finished. 

God is to be trusted.

My heart gives grateful praise.

            It is a blistering day on Delmarva.  Certain Man’s chickens are big old lard buckets — scheduled to go out tonight and Monday.  (Great are the protests from the Chicken Farmer, also know as Certain Man) It was time for my yearly GYN appointment in Lewes.  Before I ever left for the doctor’s office, the chicken house alarm went off.  Then, before I could actually make it out there, the alarm had reset itself.  I was sorely tempted to not even go and see, but Certain Man allowed that he would feel better if I checked what was going on, so I went.  And for some strange reason, I could find nothing.  Not even a current alarm notification as to why it had gone off.  So, Certain Man placated and, in fact, my own heart reassured, I headed out.

            I happen to like our seaside town of Lewes.  I have found good doctors there, and it is picturesque and bustling.  There was no leisurely shopping or dawdling, though, today.  I got done with my appointment (all is well!) and headed home.  On impulse, I slipped onto the side road where “my kids” lived, just to see if maybe they were outside playing or to see if I could catch a glimpse of them.

            They were gone.  Certain Man was pretty certain they were when we drove by one night last week, but it was dark, and I needed to be sure.  The house sat neatly, without trash and broken screen door.  The vehicles, though not necessarily in good repair, were unfamiliar and parked outside — Something Dee and Big Sensei NEVER did.  Secrecy was a trademark of their lives.      

            And no, I was not surprised to see that they were gone.  Judging from past experiences and court records, I am quite certain there is no forwarding address.  I do happen to have Dee’s mother’s cell phone number, so I called her.

            “Has Dee moved?” I ask her.  

            “Yup, she’s moved.  I don’t know where, though.  I hear that they’ve been homeless, but she won’t tell me where they are.”

            “They’ve been homeless?”  My heart stops as I think of the four kids that I haven’t seen for over six months.  I feel sick.

            Iva seems uncomfortable.  ”You never know,” she says, “that’s what I heard.  You never know.”

            “Have you heard from her?”

            “Only when she needs something,” she says.  ”July 4th was my birthday and she called me.  She said, ‘I need help.  I have to have four hundred and fifty dollars.’  Didn’t say ‘Happy Birthday’ or anything.  Just that she needed help.  I told her, ‘I can’t help you.  I don’t have it.  I gotta’ live, too.’  And I ain’t heard nothing since.”

            “How long has it been since she moved?” I ask her.

            “Oh, she been gone a month or two.  But I don’t have any idea where she is.”

            “Do you think she might have gotten into the new low income housing that she was approved for last fall?” I ask hopefully.  ”My husband is the state plumbing inspector and he said that unit recently opened.  Maybe she was able to get into there.”

            “I don’t know anything,” she said again.  ”Like I said, I heard they were homeless, but I don’t have any idea where they are.”

            “Is she still with Sensei?” I ask.

            “Yep.  She is still with him.  She told me that she was going to get rid of him, but they’re still together.”

            We talked a bit more and then I hung up the phone.  I have been thinking about the kids over these last months, praying for them, and wishing that I knew what was happening in their lives.  Last summer, we had so many happy times together.  Browns Branch park for a picnic, Milton Public Library for a Rehoboth Summer Children’s Theatre presentation, Pizza at a hole in the wall restaurant, even visiting their grandpa’s grave in a large cemetery on the edge of a historic Delaware town.  I saw them often, and the relationship evolved into something that was pleasant and easy and so, so sweet.  As I look back, I realize that it was when the kids and I were the most entrenched into each other’s lives that their mother moved in with demands and unreasonable expectations, effectively causing distance and disruption in any relationships that we attempted with the children.

            The six months since we have seen them have been full beyond measure.  Sometimes I wonder how we ever would have managed the intensity of their needs in addition to the church and family issues that we have had — Oldest Son and His Ohio Heartthrob’s three little guys, Certain Man’s knee surgery, the death of my mother-in-law, my own Sweet Mama’s health issues, dear friends with serious health crisis, Youngest Son and his Girl with a beautiful Heart’s move to Alexandria, VA,  family reunions and various other gatherings, a beloved nephew and his wife facing the challenges of a baby born with a serious genetic disease — just on and on and on.  Some things directly mine either to grieve or plan or come to terms with.  Others sit on my heart with the pain of those whom I love and care so deeply about and yet feel so keenly my primary role as pray-er.  And even when it doesn’t feel like it, that is still the best of all,

            Which brings me back to “my kids.”  And once again, dear Father, I relinquish them to you and your watchful care and keeping.  You hold them in your tender embrace, because you love the little children. Your hands can reach where mine cannot.  Your eyes can see where mine are so limited.  

Your love knows no limit.

 Your Grace has no measure.  

Your power has no boundary known unto man.

For out of your infinite riches in Jesus,

you give and give and give

And then give again.. . 

 

My heart gives grateful praise.

I have started a new blog site:

http://maryannyutzy.wordpress.com

My user name is DelawareGrammy.  

(Which, to be honest, fits me far better than “Buckeyegirlie.”  I am hopeful that my new name might weed out a certain segment of society that I never considered when I took that name, whose attentions I am not seeking. . . but who persist with a tenacity that I wish they would use to seek Jesus!)

 

I don’t know if it will become my favorite or not — but I will admit to trepidation, anxiety and loyalty issues.

 

Feel free to visit me there and let me know what you think.  

 

It is by no means finished, but the evolution of this site will take some time.

Thank-you, dear friends, who have blessed me so often over these happy years with Xanga.  I’m not going away.  And for now, at least, I will try to post on both sites.  I suspect the time will shortly come when that will fall by the wayside.  Maybe more by the choices of the owners of this site than mine, but we shall see.

Happy Tuesday to you!

.  

 

My Xanga site won’t let me upload photos — So here are some of the first ones in my photo storage.

I don’t know what Xanga is going to do.  I haven’t been able to upload my other two sites.

Trouble is, I haven’t had time to decide or develop another site.

I guess time will tell what will happen.  To be honest, I’m disenchanted with Xanga.

But not these people from my long ago postings:

(The same could be said) 

 

Eldest Daughter and Beloved Son in Law at a supper with Lem’s Reach team at Suicide Bridge in 2005

Middle Daughter helps with potato salad Day in 2006

 

  

Oldest Son and His Ohio Heartthrob in one of the first pictures I had of the two of them.

 

The Girl with a Beautiful Heart and Youngest Son
two and a half years before they got married

 

My three girls  – what a long time ago!

 

And a four generation picture with our Love Bug!

It’s a good feeling to look at the old pictures.

It is a blessing to be able to do so.