For Ed

“I remember my afflictions and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall I will remember them and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have HOPE, because of the Lord’s great love we are NOT consumed for HIS compassion never fails. They are NEW every morning – Great is your faithfulness. I say to myself “The Lord is my portion therefore I will wait for him, to the one who seeks him it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. ” Lamentation 3:21-25

” I did her funeral.”

To the untrained ear – these words could feel an odd answer to the question – “Did we live here when his wife passed?” Unless your husband is an ordained pastor. Then its 100% normal and 100% the answer I got yesterday when I asked my husband this question after leaving a visit…

with our friend Ed.

It’s been almost four months since I opened this blog. It’s been almost four months since I’ve even attempted to write any words of any length on any subject. And not coincidentally It’s been almost four months since I said my earthly goodbyes to my mom.

It appears that entering in to this space that has been a sanctuary for processing life and God’s word and how the two intersect did not feel as safe as it used too. The ideas that once stirred in my mind while walking the streets of my little town or blow drying my hair just seemed to stop. The traumatic months that ended in my moms passing last December seemed to sap the energy from my tending to lots of responsibilities … cleaning the bathroom, making a meal that didn’t come pre packaged and pausing long enough to welcome the gift that I feel I have received so many times .. the gift of story, the gift of insight, the gift of hope that came tumbling out of my heart and mind in the form of words.

One might describe this as a word drought.

Drought:

1. a period of drier-than-normal conditions. It can last for days, months or years.
2. A prolonged absence of a specified thing.

We are all too familiar with “drought” living in a once drought laden part of the country. Our home is in the middle of farm land that people we know and love depend on for their livelihood. As I sit at my kitchen table pounding away at my keyboard I can look out and see land farmed by 3 different farmers. The first patch – It’s Strobel land. The second – Oetting and then in the distance are 2 navy blue silos -representing the third family – and the friend we visited yesterday…Ed.

All of this land including the blue silos have been the most photographed piece of landscape in my phone since the summer of 2017 – the year we took ownership of our Sweet Sandia home. Since that time we have enjoyed not only the beauty of all the seasons of farmland but getting to know each of the families that care for this piece of God’s creation. There is not one day that goes by that I don’t thank God for the gift of this home and the way he reminds me of his goodness with each morning sunrise over farmland. And today… it is the blue silos and our friend Ed… that have pulled me out of my silence. The words… and today the tears… are coming.

My husband has known Ed for over 30 years. Tom knew him first as the father of Jenny – a high school classmate. Tom also knew Ed as one of the men that fought to keep his high school open many years ago when it was on the verge of closing. It’s such a cool story. I asked him to repeat it yesterday when we were visiting. It just never gets old. I met Ed for the first time 8 years ago when we moved here. He was kind and quiet. He would engage in conversation after Sunday morning bible class. On Thursday mornings I would often see Ed going to the weekly mens gathering held on our high school campus and also on my running route. In the most unexpected ways… he became one of my biggest cheerleaders.

It was on one of these early morning runs that Ed first told me how he felt about my blog. I saw Ed leaving his car and heading to the dining hall stairs on my loop around the high school quad when he motioned me to stop. Unbeknownst to me he had been reading my then weekly posts and had read my latest that may have even dropped that morning. After I pulled out my earbuds I paused and he looked me in the eye and said, “Don’t stop. Don’t stop writing. Your words are really important.” Over the years since that morning Ed has reminded me of how something I have written has impacted him. His genuine interest is often what moved me to open my computer and write.

In the fall of 2022 when I was diagnosed with breast Cancer, Ed took on the role of a different form of cheerleader. Ed offered support and kind words that came from a place of knowing. Not only was he a personal cancer survivor but the ugly disease took his wife years before. It was one of the many funerals my husband performed the first year we lived in our little town and he was filling in as a vacancy pastor. It is this very same disease that prompted our visit with Ed yesterday.

Ed’s cancer is back.

Hospice has been called and his daughter Jenny posted on facebook that despite being tired and weak, Ed welcomed visitors and was ready to receive them. There was no question that a visit to Ed was top priority on our list of Saturday activities. We had hoped that our visit would bring him joy and a distraction to the pain he is experiencing but in true Ed form- he was the one that did the encouraging.

As we entered Ed’s room in our local nursing home we were greeted with the welcome smile of his daughter followed by the bright eyes of Ed. He reached out his hand to offer a firm hand shake and invited us to have a seat. He cut straight to the truth of his situation. The Non- Hodgkin’s Lymphoma that has returned is aggressive and the treatment brutal. His first bought with cancer was 9 years ago and he said Doctors have been surprised at all the life he has been gifted to live. Now, with the all the confidence and peace in the world Ed says,

“I’m ready.”

Ready to go home.

To heaven.

To Jesus.

We spoke for several minutes about the details of this diagnosis and then entered into an hour of lovely conversation about past memories from Ed’s life and our small town. Ed asked for updates on the high school ( the one he fought to keep open, the one from which Tom and 2 of our children graduated and the one where Tom currently teaches. SPLHS is pretty significant to all of us!). We talked weather. We talked about his blue silos I see every time I look over my backyard. Ed asked about my work – he has always asked about my work with a genuine interest in understanding what I do.

It was light.

It was easy.

It was unburdened.

It was the kind of conversation you can have with someone at peace. Someone confident in who they are and where they are going.

Deadlines are funny things. They have the power to move us into action or in this case move me out of a drought. When Ed stopped me in the middle of my run years ago and he said those words… ” Don’t stop writing” I made him a promise. I promised him I wouldn’t stop. I promised him I would keep listening to the words God gave me and put them down on paper.

So Ed – this one is for you. The one that spoke the words I would need to remember when I thought the words had stopped. The one that showed me peace in the midst of your final days. The one that is displaying confidence in the hope we can have in Jesus. The passing of my mom just about did me in, or at least this blog. Ed, it is the anticipation of your passing that has pulled me out. Your friendship has been such a gift. Your authentic interest in my life, my families and my words are more precious than you can know.

For everyone else…I hope that if you are reading this you too have an Ed in your life. Someone that takes time to ask questions and share encouragement.

Hmm… or maybe …..

you are the Ed……

that someone is waiting for.