Sounds of Hope

When I started this “mini-series” leading up to Bethany’s birth, I had no idea I would cover such emotionally charged ground. Since I do plan to write a book, it is probably wise that I stop telling the story at some point. Before I stop let me share a few highlights. Bethany came home just in time to join me at a shower that the church had for me. I remember the woman who hosted it, and where she lived. I can’t remember her name. I remember Jane took us in her white Cadillac. I wanted to breastfeed Bethany. I tried to express milk to bring to the hospital. I had little luck. One day I went in and they told me they had just given her some of my milk. I didn’t have any milk there. Whose milk it was, I have no idea. Nevertheless, it didn’t harm her.  After weeks of struggling with nursing, in the middle of the night I uttered a simple prayer. I asked God, if you want me to nurse this child you’ll going to have to help me. Literally, from that moment on, she and I figured out breast...

I got a call yesterday from the funeral home that handled the arrangements for my mother. A pleasant woman called to tell me that the date of my mother’s date was now on the headstone. Having purchased this headstone in 1982, for 18 years it has been waiting for this date. The many times I have visited my father’s grave I have also stared at my mother’s would be grave. I have looked at that headstone and wondered what date will appear. Now there is a date. Now it is final. It is official. On February 25, 2010, almost one month ago, Elsie Mae Bumbaugh Johannesen Martin joined with my father all those who worship around the throne of God. Many years ago while still a teenager I had a pastor who is buried not far from my parents at Memorial Cemetery in Columbia MO. I stopped at his grave when we buried my mother. I think I will stop there often as I visit both of my parents. Brother Parker, my pastor, preached a sermon series that I still remember. He preached from Hebrews 12:1 The...