Nearer, My God, to Thee: A Titanic Stairway

The state-of-the-art ship was massive and was supposed to be unsinkable. It was one of the greatest achievements of the age, but an iceberg on a calm moonless night contributed to one of the greatest maritime disasters in recent history, and many souls found themselves literally nearer to God than they would have dreamed when setting out from England, France and Ireland just a few days previous.

But our story begins several millennia earlier.

c. 2000 BC, around 4000 years previous

The night was dark, and Jacob was exhausted from his trek across the land that would one day bear his future name of Israel. He found a stone and placed it on the ground to use as a pillow. As he slept, he dreamed about a stairway stretching into the sky with angels walking up and down it. God stood at the top and gave Jacob the following promise:

“I am the Lord, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac. I will give you and your descendants the land on which you are lying. Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth, and you will spread out to the west and to the east, to the north and to the south. All peoples on earth will be blessed through you and your offspring. I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”

Genesis 28:13-15

Upon waking, Jacob was awe-struck, and he named the place Bethel, or "House of God." He took the rock he had used as a pillow, and set it up as a pillar.

El sueño de Jacob/Jacob's Dream
Bartholomé Esteban Murillo
Oil on canvas
1665

1841

British actress Sarah Flower Adams had been obliged to leave the stage due to health troubles, and in 1841, her pastor was working on a sermon about Jacob's dream. He needed a song to go with it in the service, and Adams volunteered to write it. Her sister Eliza Flower set it to music, though a different tune by Lowell Mason would eventually become the one commonly used. (Incidentally, Mason also set the poem "Mary Had a Little Lamb" to music.) Summarizing Jacob's dream, Sarah wrote: 

Nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee!
E'en though it be a cross that raiseth me,
still all my song shall be,
nearer, my God, to thee;
nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee!

Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down,
darkness be over me, my rest a stone;
yet in my dreams I'd be
nearer, my God, to thee;
nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee!

There let the way appear, steps unto heaven;
all that thou sendest me, in mercy given;
angels to beckon me
nearer, my God, to thee;
nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee!

Then, with my waking thoughts bright with thy praise,
out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise;
so by my woes to be
nearer, my God, to thee;
nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee!

Or if, on joyful wing cleaving the sky,
sun, moon, and stars forgot, upward I fly,
still all my song shall be,
nearer, my God, to thee;
nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee!

Adams would write multiple poems and hymns, but this was her most well known. They couldn't know how poignant these words would be about 72 years later.

Sarah Flower Adams
Margaret Gillies
Sketch, touched with chalk
artwork c. 1850-1875

April 14-15, 1912

It was a dark but calm night. The appropriately-named ship was titanic (that is, massively huge), and it was on its maiden voyage. Just 39 years after the SS Ville du Havre had collided with another ship and sunk (inspiring another hymn), a much greater disaster was about to go down, literally. RMS Titanic also collided, but this time with an iceberg around 800 miles southwest of the other collision (if my calculations are accurate). 

Around 11:40 PM, lookout Frederick Fleet sounded the alarm: "Iceberg! Right ahead!" First Officer William Murdoch immediately ordered the ship "hard-a-starboard" to turn around posthaste! (Starboard is the ship's right side.) They did their best, but were too close to the iceberg, which scraped the starboard side, rupturing at least five watertight compartments. Captain Edward J. Smith ordered wireless operator Jack Phillips to begin sending distress signals, which he and his fellow operator Harold Bride did. The ship let off flares that lit up the sky. The RMS Carpathia received the signals, but being 58 nautical miles away, it would take them about three hours to reach the Titanic. The massive ship only had 20 lifeboats, not nearly enough for all their passengers.

As the ship broke apart and sank, multiple survivors recalled the ship's band, led by band leader Wallace Hartley, playing a hymn as some of the passengers sang along:

There let the way appear, steps unto heaven;
all that thou sendest me, in mercy given;
angels to beckon me
nearer, my God, to thee;

nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee!

Hartley has said that he wanted that hymn played at his funeral. It would be the last song he would direct as he and the entire band found themselves nearer to God. Over 1500 souls were lost that night.

RMS Titanic departing Southampton
April 10, 1912
Photo by Francis Godolphin Osbourne Stuart

https://www.britannica.com/topic/Titanic

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Titanic

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nearer,_My_God,_to_Thee

https://www.thetabernaclechoir.org/articles/nearer-my-god-to-thee-history-and-lyrics.html

Randy Rusk

My uncle Randy was tragically killed by a drunk driver before I was born. I have heard wonderful things about him, and I wish I could have known him. It sounds like he was an amazing and very talented person. I did this portrait of him a few years ago in his memory. 

My aunt Bonnie, his widow, did a guest blog a few years ago, telling her story, remembering him and her life since losing him. That was the first guest post on this blog.

Randy Rusk
Steven Sauke
Illustration

It Is Well: Lost at Sea

In late 1873, a heartbroken father stood on the deck of a ship gazing out to sea at the site of the disaster that had tragically claimed the lives of all four of his daughters. This was only two years after he had lost his son and his business. Now this.

Horatio Spafford was a lawyer and real estate investor who had seen great success. He had an amazing wife and beloved children. He had a lucrative business. But his successful life began to unravel in 1871 when his 4-year-old son contracted and succumbed to scarlet fever. It was a tragedy no parent should have to go through, having to bury their own son. But things would get worse. The Great Chicago Fire tore through the city, leaving large swathes of it in charred ruins. Shortly after losing his son, his successful business was quite literally up in smoke. In the face of such unimaginable loss, he could not know that even worse tragedy was on its way.

The Sinking of the Steamship Ville du Havre
Currier & Ives, 1873
Hand-colored lithograph
Image courtesy of Springfield Museums
Used with permission

Horatio and his wife Anna were devastated. The stress of raising children and rebuilding a business in the face of such unspeakable loss was heartrending. They decided that they needed a change of scene. A vacation to England would be just the thing. Horatio was detained by unexpected business obligations, so he saw his wife and four daughters off as they boarded the SS Ville du Havre, bound for England. He would take another ship and join them soon.

November 21, 1873 was a day that would shatter their lives, literally and figuratively. Over the Atlantic Ocean, the Ville du Havre collided with the Scottish iron-hulled ship Loch Earn. Anna Spafford gathered her four young daughters on the deck and they desperately prayed to be spared, or to be able to endure what was to come. The ship sank in 12 minutes. Over 200 lives were lost that day.

A few days later, Horatio received a telegram from Cardiff, Wales that began:

Saved alone. What shall I do?

A sailor on a small boat had spotted a woman floating on a piece of wreckage and pulled her aboard. They were then picked up by a larger boat bound for Cardiff. As soon as Anna arrived, she telegrammed her husband back in Chicago. Anna told another survivor of the Ville du Havre, "God gave me four daughters. Now they have been taken from me. Someday I will understand why."

Horatio and Anna Spafford's daughters

Gutted, Horatio booked the next available ship to Wales. The captain was aware of Spafford's tragedy and brought him out to the deck as they reached the site of the collision. As he looked out to sea and thought about his daughters, he was filled with a mixture of grief, comfort and peace. His emotions flowed on paper as he wrote the words that came to him to comfort in this horrible tragedy:

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll—
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to know,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

As the waves buffeted the ship back and forth, he wrote on:

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come
Let this blest assurance control
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate
And hath shed his own blood for my soul.

Some of this is speculation on my part, but having gone through tragedies of my own, I know we are often plagued by the "what ifs" of life. What if they had stayed home? What if he had gone with them and could have protected them? What if he had committed some sin God was punishing him for? At their hour of greatest need, he was miles away, helplessly and ignorantly unable to help. Rational or not, I know my mind has gone to places like that, and I'm sure his did as well, particularly in light of his poem.

My sin—oh the bliss of this glorious thought—
My sin, not in part, but the whole,
Is nailed to His cross, & I bear it no more;
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, Oh my soul.

As he pondered, prayed, and agonized, it helped to remind himself that this was in God's hands, and God would bring him through it. Whatever sins he may have committed, whether or not they contributed to the tragedy, were forgiven and atoned on the cross. But even so, he missed his son and daughters horribly, and couldn't wait to see them again someday in heaven.

And Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll—
The trump shall resound, & the Lord shall descend—
A song in the night, Oh my soul!

The above poem is from the original manuscript, which you can see here. A few words have been changed over the years for the hymn that we have grown up singing, but it is mostly intact. The biggest change I see is the last line. He would also write, 

"On Thursday last we passed over the spot where she went down in mid-ocean, the water three miles deep. But I do not think of our dear ones there. They are safe, folded, the dear lambs, and there, before very long, shall we be too. In the meantime, thanks to God, we have an opportunity to serve and praise Him for His love and mercy to us and ours. I will praise Him while I have my being. May we each one arise, leave all, and follow Him."

Naufrage du paquebot transatlantique la Ville-du-Havre.

L'arrière du navire est encore au-dessus des flots,

et le Loch-Earn envoie ses embarcations pour sauver les naufragés.

Translation:

Shipwreck of the transatlantic liner the Ville du Havre.

The back of the ship is still above the waves,

and the Loch Earn sends its small boats to 

save the shipwrecked.

Artwork by Évremond de Bérard in Le Monde illustré, 

December 13, 1873 based on information taken in 

Le Havre, France and a sketch by M.G. Roullet

Public Domain

After returning home, their friends rallied around them. Among those friends was Phillip Bliss, who was gifted in music and was so moved by Spafford's poem that he set it to music. It has comforted and moved generations ever since.

Following the tragedy, the Spaffords had three more children, losing another son to pneumonia. They would eventually move to Jerusalem. His "faith became sight" in 1888, when he passed away and was buried there.

This hymn has been special for me, particularly when I learned as a child that I was born on the anniversary of the shipwreck that inspired it. The first time I heard the story behind it was on the radio. We sang the song growing up, and hearing the story moved me. But now, it means more to me than ever.

In 2019, I took my parents on an errand to Bellingham, Washington, about a 2-hour drive north of us. On the way home, I could feel myself getting drowsy and pulled into a rest stop so I could get coffee and stretch my legs. But just as we were on the freeway exit into the rest stop, I dozed off momentarily. The car veered off the road into the grass, taking out a road sign as I desperately tried to regain control. The car went neatly between trees and slammed into another tree, momentarily going airborne and landing perpendicular from where it had hit the tree. (I'm hearing the crashes and feeling the shock again just typing this.) The airbags deployed. My dad found my glasses on the ground outside the passenger door. I was badly bruised. My parents were injured worse. My brother Tim, who was at work at the time, immediately left work and rushed to the hospital where we were taken. I was in the hospital a few hours, and my dad was in a bit longer. After nine days in the hospital, my mom had to spend a few weeks in rehab. I did a sleep study and CT scan to determine if there were any sleep or brain issues. (On one visit to the neurologist, I joked that I had to have my head examined.) There were no brain issues, but I was diagnosed with sleep apnea. While my glasses were thankfully intact, I got a new pair that wouldn't come off as easily. I went through terrible feelings of guilt and "what ifs"... What if I had pulled off the freeway sooner? What if I had stayed alert for five more minutes? On the other hand, what if we had been on a bridge over a river when it happened, which would have been worse? So many "what ifs"! My family and friends had to reassure me over and over that it wasn't my fault, and the feelings of guilt were not helpful. After I had worked through that, a well-meaning friend asked me if I was feeling guilt about it and offered unsolicited advice—but by that point, her efforts were a bit counterproductive as it revived it a bit. Never assume what someone is feeling when they are grieving. You could be reawakening things they've already worked through and don't need to be reminded.

In mid-November 2021, my dad was in the family room watching football. I thought it was a bit odd that he was still sitting there at midnight, which was not like him, but I told him I was going to bed. He offered to turn the TV down, but I assured him the volume was fine. About 3 and a half hours later, my mom woke me. She was in tears. My dad was still sitting in front of the TV, but the screen saver had come on, and when she asked him questions, his answers didn't make sense. I got up and went in and talked to him. Most of his answers to my questions also didn't make sense. At one point I commented that we were very worried, and he said, "I can see that." He didn't want us to call 911, because he was afraid they would ask him questions and he wouldn't know what to tell them. We finally decided to call 911 anyway, and paramedics rushed to the house. At the hospital, he was diagnosed with a hemorrhagic stroke, which involves bleeding in the brain, and eventually transferred to another hospital a bit farther away that was better equipped to help. While he was in the hospital, their COVID guidelines only allowed for one designated visitor throughout the stay. My mom was the obvious choice, so Tim and I waited in the parking lot while our mom visited him nearly daily. His condition was up and down. Due to COVID, I was working from home, so one day while I was working, Tim took my mom. They made the painful decision to move him to comfort care, as all attempts at getting food into him were failing, and the only other option had the potential of doing more harm than good. Tim called me and told me they were coming home to get me. I alerted my manager that I had to go, and once they arrived, we returned to the hospital. Since he was on comfort care, the one-guest rule didn't apply, so we went up. I had some things I needed to discuss with my dad, and I wish I could have discussed them with him when he was coherent. But I was able to tell him, clear some things up, and get some closure. He was clearly in pain, and was unable to talk right then, but I'm fairly certain he could hear me. We were hoping he would feel a bit better the following day and I might be able to talk some more. But that night, shortly after midnight, we were back home and had gone to bed. Tim got a call from the hospital. Once he had turned the phone over to our mom, he came and got me. I will never forget his next words: "Dad just died." We hurried back to the hospital. He was gone.

Once again, the "what ifs" came. What if I had realized before going to bed that something was physically wrong? What if we had called 911 sooner? Could they have saved him? With a stroke, minutes count. What if the accident in 2019 contributed to his stroke? What if I had listened to his lessons more and appreciated him more when he was alive? What if? What if? What if? I even had to work through some of the "what ifs" from the accident again.

It has been a difficult road since losing my dad. So many times I want to tell him something, ask him a question, give him a hug. While he was fighting for his life, I felt helpless. But "Christ has regarded my helpless estate and has shed His own blood for my soul." In some ways, I felt I failed as a son, and didn't honor and respect my dad as much as I should have. But "My sin—oh the bliss of this glorious thought—my sin, not in part, but the whole, is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more! Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, Oh my soul!" I miss my dad horribly, but I cling to that "peace like a river" that "attendeth my way" as "sorrows like sea billows roll." Someday the faith WILL become sight. I will see my dad again. He is completely healed. I miss him, but for his sake I don't want him to come back. So I sing with my brother in Christ Horatio Spafford:

And Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll—
The trump shall resound, & the Lord shall descend—
A song in the night, Oh my soul!

Don't get me wrong, I plan to live for a long time yet, and I want to make an impact while I'm here, but a part of me yearns for that day when we run into each other's arms and joyfully sing Jesus' praises at His feet!

Sources:

https://www.staugustine.com/story/lifestyle/faith/2014/10/17/story-behind-song-it-well-my-soul/985525007/
https://www.thetabernaclechoir.org/articles/it-is-well-with-my-soul.html
https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/history-of-hymns-it-is-well-with-my-soul
https://seelemag.com/blog/story-behind-it-is-well-with-my-soul-cportee
https://springfieldmuseums.org/collections/item/the-sinking-of-the-steamship-ville-du-havre-currier-ives/
https://www.spaffordhymn.com/

Kyrie Eleison

Kyrie Eleison is Latin for "Lord, have mercy!" It is often used in church liturgy going back centuries, and as I see more and more horrifying events in the news, that's often my prayer for our nation and our world. I made this graphic a few years ago for Good Friday, which is one time it is commonly used.

Kyrie Eleison
Steven Sauke
Illustration

The black across the top represents the dark sky, as it got dark during the day when Christ was crucified. The brown stripe is for the cross. The red is for Christ's blood.

Today is Black Saturday, the day between Jesus' death and resurrection. Growing up in the Philippines, this was one of the saddest days of the year, when many believed Jesus was literally dead every Black Saturday, and many didn't dare do anything or take any risks, should anything happen and Jesus might not be there to help. 

Our church in the Philippines had a retreat one year during Holy Week, and they returned on Black Saturday. A group was traveling in the countryside in the church's Toyota Tamaraw when both tires on one side of the vehicle blew and it rolled. Tamaraws did not have seatbelts at the time (I assume they do now, but don't know that for sure), and it was a very frightening experience. Most people were only scraped and bruised, though there were some broken bones. But Cynthia Mollo (pronounced "mole-yo"), a wonderful woman in our church, who had a massive heart, was injured much more severely. She was pregnant at the time. Everyone was rushed to the hospital. We were not with them, but my parents rushed to that hospital to be with them, and I stayed with friends. (My brother Tim was out of town.) We got regular updates as Cynthia and her unborn baby fought for their lives. I will never forget our friend getting off the phone after one of those updates and saying, "Well, Cynthia is with the Lord." (I'm tearing up thinking about it over 30 years later.) I sobbed.

Cynthia's husband Dindo was in a different car returning from the retreat, and later recalled they were singing as they travelled in their car, not knowing what was happening in the other vehicle: 

"I've got a mansion just over the hilltop
In that bright land where we'll never grow old
And someday yonder we will never more wander
But walk on streets that are purest gold"

They sang that at her funeral as well. It was a major comfort for everyone, knowing where Cynthia and her baby were, completely free from pain. After the service, we attended the burial, and her tombstone said "SEE YOU IN HEAVEN."

Since the accident happened on Black Saturday, Cynthia's mother was upset that they had gone on a trip on that day of all days. How could they do it on the day when Jesus was dead? I'm not sure what caused her to realize Jesus was there and protecting everyone else, but she did eventually come to understand that. It was a miracle that nobody else was hurt worse than they were. But losing Cynthia and her unborn baby was a huge blow to all of us.

Where they left off...

I was in college on April 20, 1999, when 12 students not much younger than me, and a teacher, were murdered at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colorado, near Denver. It rocked the nation. Next month is the 24th anniversary, and sadly, not a lot has changed over the years since then. We need to put an end to this! We must never forget the 13 innocent victims, who are listed at the bottom of this post. 

I wrote this poem in late April 1999.

Credit: CBS

Thirteen lives
Snuffed out
Twelve students and a teacher.
How could this be?
Why did this happen?
Thirteen lives
Cut short

Several followers of Christ,

No longer in pain,
Are now with Christ.
They are with the One who gave His life
To save theirs.
Some of them martyrs
So young

Funerals.
"God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life."
How could God's plan for their lives happen
When they are dead?
A nationally-televised funeral.
A challenge for teens to pick up
Where these students left off
Millions of teens
Around the world
Take their places.
Millions of followers of Christ
Take their places.
How many millions
Will come to Christ
Because of this unspeakable tragedy?

Families
Left behind
Grieving their loss
Rejoicing Heaven's gain

Now see God work
Through the tragedy

In spite of the tragedy
To bring countless millions into the fold
How many millions
Will be saved from the abyss?
How many millions
Will take their place
To spread God's word?

Only God
Can bring joy from a tragedy
Only God
Can heal a fallen nation
May God have all the praise and all the glory!

I took these pictures of columbine
flowers in Utah, summer 2022

We remember the innocent victims:

Cassie Bernall
Steven Curnow
Corey DePooter
Kelly Fleming
Matthew Kechter
Daniel Mauser
Daniel Rohrbough
Dave Sanders
Rachel Scott
Isaiah Shoels
John Tomlin
Lauren Townsend
Kyle Velasquez

They Answered the Call

Martin and Gracia Burnham, missionaries to the Philippines, were celebrating their anniversary on Palawan Island in the western Philippines when they and several others were taken hostage by Abu Sayyaf, a militant group associated with Al Qaida. Over the course of their captivity, several of their fellow captives were murdered by their captors, and others were released. June 7, 2002, over a year into their ordeal, the Philippine army stormed their camp and managed to rescue Gracia. Martin and fellow hostage Deborah Yap were killed in the fighting. I wrote this poem when we got the news.

Having grown up in the Philippines, and having good friends in New Tribes Mission, their mission organization, this hit close to home for us, and we followed it closely over the course of the ordeal, praying regularly for their safe release. While I didn't know them in the Philippines (that I remember), Gracia's book In the Presence of my Enemies mentions people I knew. I did meet her later, and she gave me a hug when she found out I was a missionary kid.

You can learn more about them on Gracia's website.

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
     for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Matthew 5:10

Martin and Gracia Burnham
AP/New Tribes Mission

They heard the call
The call to go
To preach the Gospel to the world

And they answered the call
No matter what the cost
They preached the Gospel
They showed God’s love
Wherever they went

It was only a break
A time of rest
How could they know
How much a rest would cost?

They answered the call
They showed God’s love to their captors
They prayed for and cared for their fellow hostages

They would spend a year
With little to eat
Moving around
In the thick jungle’s heat

Their bodies were weak
But their faith was strong
They showed God’s love
To those who hated Him

They saw the others released
Some killed
But still they were held

He was in chains
She was in pain
They went through illness
And agony

But still they answered the call
"Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness
For theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven"

At last the rescuers came
She was rescued by the army
He was rescued by God Himself

They are free
She recovers from her wounds
And her loss
He sits at the feet
Of his eternal God and King
For theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.

The Founder of His Freedom

I wrote this poem June 28, 2006 in memory of my Great-Uncle Spencer, my grandpa's youngest brother. We lost him to myelodisplastic syndrome, which is related to leukemia, where the bone marrow stops producing blood cells. He had a bone marrow transplant, which prolonged his life for a while. Having lost him shortly before Independence Day, it occurred to me he was celebrating with many of our Founding Fathers.

He lived in a nation founded on faith
Founded by men with God’s love in their hearts
And God’s freedom in their souls
He watched the fireworks each year
Telling of the freedom they bought
And of the sacrifices they made
That this nation might be free

Now he can enjoy Independence Day
With the founders of our nation’s freedom
What better way to celebrate
Than to feast with the men who signed the Declaration of Independence?

The illness took its toll
While his family watched and prayed
His dependence on the doctors and medicine grew
As God graciously prolonged his life
And the glimmer of freedom from the sickness grew
Until the day God set him free

This is his Independence Day
Forever free from the pain that tormented him
Now he can worship at the feet
Of the great Founder of his freedom

One day he gave his life to God
To the One who bought our freedom
And with His blood signed the ultimate Declaration of Independence from sin and death

Now he can stand alongside
The founders of our nation’s freedom
And bow before the great Founder of our freedom in Christ!
Who needs fireworks
When you can run into the dazzling brilliance
And with our founding fathers
Fall and worship our great Founding Father, the Founder of all our freedom?

Uncle Maynard

I wrote this poem September 28, 2000 in memory of my Great-Uncle Maynard, shortly after we lost him to cancer. A World War 2 veteran, he was honored by the navy at his burial with a 3-gun salute. He was a farmer in Montana for many years. This poem was printed in the program at his memorial.

I also mentioned him, though not by name, in my tribute to his dog Daisy the following year.

A lifetime of farming
A lifetime of joy and pain
A lifetime of gentleness and love
You made it through the Depression
You made it through the War
You made it through Y2K
You lived your life so well
You lived your life a child of God

Well done, Uncle Maynard!
You were an example to your family
An example to your friends
An example to all you met
I can almost hear God saying,
"Well done, My faithful son!"

What a relief to know your pain is gone!
I know you suffered so much
But I'm still sad that you are gone
I miss you, Uncle Maynard
I can't hold back my tears
There's a family here who misses you

But our sadness is tempered with joy
Joy to know we'll see you again
Joy to know you are healed
Joy to know your cancer is gone
Replaced by a dazzling robe
And a crown glittering with the jewels of Heaven

You are at peace
You are home
In the arms of our Great Father
Praising Him forevermore

Michael

I wrote this poem in May 1997 after attending the memorial service for 13-year-old Michael Morrison, who took a boat out May 3 of that year, and it likely capsized. As far as I know, his body was never found. I didn't know him personally and have not been able to find a picture of him for the purposes of this blog. The incident was in the news, and one of our local news anchors was at the service. The poem mentions memories that people shared at the memorial. It quotes Psalm 116:15, 55:22a and 1 Peter 5:7b. One of my favorite memories that people shared at the funeral (which the poem does not mention) was that most of his friends and classmates called him Seymour. His youth leader shared that he once asked Michael why they called him that, and he explained, "When I wear my glasses, I can see more." That's when I knew we could have been great friends.

Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

The funeral's done
The media's gone
And here we are, left behind
With the memory of a boy:
A man of God

They said you were so wonderful
You used to cheer them up
With the story of a pickle chasing you
You loved them with all your heart
And prayed for them - your friends.

And Michael, I wish that I had known you
Your love for God shone through in what you did
In life, you glorified God
And now, you're in His arms forevermore.

Your friends are sad
There's a great big hole
In your school and in your church
But there you are
In the arms of Christ!

You are so much better off
No more colds or flu
No hypothermia
Only God's amazing grace!
Heaven has gained an outstanding soul!

And Michael, I wish that I had known you
Your love for God shone through in what you did
In life, you glorified God
And now, you're in His arms forevermore.

"Precious in the sight of the Lord
Is the death of His saints."
I can't imagine how elated God must be
He has brought another child to His eternal home
To everlasting reward!

"Cast all your cares on the Lord
And He will sustain you."
"For He cares for you."
I know that God will bring
Your friends and family through their grief!

And Michael, I wish that I had known you
Your love for God shone through in what you did
In life, you glorified God
And now, you're in His arms forevermore.

I did not know you very well
But I have heard that you loved God
You loved everyone you saw
You prayed for all your friends
That they would meet the Lord.

We could have been great friends
I wish I'd known you more
And enjoyed your brotherly love
I look forward to meeting you
In the everlasting arms of Christ!

And Michael, I'm glad that I will meet you
In the arms of our eternal God and King
On earth, you glorified God
Now you live in His loving arms forevermore.

Unknown

When I visited Normandy, France in 1999, we spent a day going to several beaches where the Allied Forces landed on D-Day, June 6, 1944. That day in 1999 we visited Omaha Beach, Pointe du Hoc and Arromanches. Omaha Beach was featured in Saving Private Ryan (which we would watch a few days later). Pointe du Hoc is at the top of cliffs (pictures at the bottom of this post), and Allied Forces were able to scale the cliffs under the cover of fog and defeat the Germans waiting at the top. There are iconic pictures of the artificial port at Arromanches used for getting heavy equipment off the boats, which is still there.

The American Cemetery at Omaha Beach had row upon row of crosses and Stars of David. It was very solemn, beautiful and moving. For me, the most moving crosses read:

HERE RESTS IN HONORED GLORY

A COMRADE IN ARMS

KNOWN BUT TO GOD

I wrote this poem January 18, 2006 after attending a David Harsh concert where he sang a song on the same subject. It made me think back to my visit to Omaha Beach where I saw these crosses.

Photo by Mika167
CC BY-SA 3.0 license

A white cross stands in a cemetery
In a land far away
A lasting monument to an unknown soldier
Known but to God

What happened to this unknown soldier?
God alone saw him pierced by countless bullets
Tossed by bombs and grenades
Shattered by shrapnel exploding all around

A family waited and worried at home
Counting the days until their daddy
Would step off the airplane
And run into their welcoming embrace

Did they get a knock on the door
And learn that he was MIA?
Did they wait happily on the tarmac
For their daddy, who would never step off the plane?

Did they know a cross would mark
The place where his shattered remains lay?
A beloved husband and daddy
Ever in a land far away

A young wife wondered and prayed
What became of the love of her life?
The children worried and cried
Would they ever see their daddy's beaming face?

A wife never again got to kiss her husband's lips
A son never got to wrestle with his dad
And a daughter never got to dance in her daddy's loving gaze
He wasn't there to see his son graduate
Couldn't give his daughter away

His grandchildren never got to sit on the lap
Of the grandpa they never knew
Hearing stories of long ago
When he was their age

A young man kneels before a white marble cross
Moved to tears by the inscription to the unknown soldier.
Who lies beneath this cross in honored glory?
Could it be the bones of the grandfather he never knew?

The answer is known but to God.

Omaha Beach

Omaha Beach

The cliffs of Pointe du Hoc

Craters at Pointe du Hoc created
by massive cannonballs

Pointe du Hoc

Memories of Dad

My dad was an amazing person. It's been more than a year now since we lost him, but it still just isn't the same without him. I often wish I could ask him things or tell him things. I want to share my blog with him, particularly since I've been blogging more regularly lately, but I can't. I can only imagine all the comments he would have posted, as he was great at commenting on blog posts that he read. I'm more thankful than ever for the incredible father I had.

Following are some memories from several people, family and friends, that I read at his memorial service. His brother Norm Sauke passed away from dementia and other health issues October 31, 2021, and my dad passed away December 2 of that year, following a stroke. Losing two brothers (or in my case, my uncle and my dad) so close to each other was a huge blow for our family.

I made this graphic to use at my dad's memorial.

Erv Sauke (his brother, my uncle)

Ron was a gift to everyone. He was a great brother and son to his family. He was a great big brother. As a child, he was always busy doing something and into a lot of things. All my brothers were special to me. Losing Norm and Ron within one year's time was a shock to me and still is. I was glad to know they both gave their hearts and lives to my Jesus and I will be able to see them again in heaven. I will miss Ron a lot. So pray for his family and me when you can. Sorry for not being here, my wife and I are under the weather. Ron, I will always love you.

Erv

Linda Sauke (his wife, my mom)

Ron had a great sense of humor. He was so good with children and was an outstanding teacher! He loved his students, and they loved him! They also thought it was great fun to play tricks on him! One year when he was teaching middle school in the Philippines, the kids started putting salt in his coffee when he wasn't looking. After several days of enduring this, Ron arranged a plan with the school nurse to get even with them!

When all was ready, one day during class a student messenger came to the door with a "note from the nurse," listing several students she needed to see immediately. In response to their confused expressions, he reassured them that it was probably just a simple tracheotomy. (The students on the list, of course, were the main offenders.) They nervously headed to the nurse's office on the other side of campus.

The students were even more alarmed when they arrived and saw that the nurse had prepared a humongous syringe, along with a scalpel and several other pieces of scary medical equipment to use on them! The nurse explained to them the procedures that would take place ... and watched as their horror grew!

When she could see it was enough, she calmly added, "Of course, the other option is that you could stop putting salt in Mr. Sauke's coffee!"

The students ran back to the middle school building, and Ron's class could hear them yelling all across the campus!

But they never put salt in Ron's coffee again!

Steven Sauke (his son, me)

My dad studied Spanish in school and thereafter had a tendency to apply the rules of Spanish to any foreign language that he read. One time he preached an entire sermon on "Prisceeya and Aqueeya."

One of their first priorities upon moving to Hong Kong was to study the language. The first time he gave his testimony in Cantonese, it was at a large gathering of youth. When he told about meeting his wife, everybody burst out laughing! He was very confused. After sitting down, the pastor leaned over to him and said, "That was great, right down the part where you ate your wife!" It turns out that the word for "to meet" is 識 (sic, high tone) but "to eat" is 食 (sic, low tone). He pronounced it correctly, but ended up saying something completely different because he used the wrong tone!

One of my earliest memories is being at church and walking through a sea of legs because I was so small. I found my dad and gave him a big hug around the leg. I looked up fondly and discovered it was not my dad.

As we got older, he made an effort to spend time with us, wrestle and play with us, and encourage our interests, even if we were not the softball team he once dreamed of raising. We watched videos of musicals and other movies as a family. We also attended various theatrical productions of plays, musicals, ballets and more. He put up with us listening (and singing along) to cast recordings of musicals all the time and even got to know some of them because he knew that we liked them. For Tim's 30th birthday he took us to see The Phantom of the Opera. For my 40th birthday he took us to see Come from Away. Some of the best father-son times were watching adventure movies with him, such as Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Master and Commander, Pirates of the Caribbean, and others. Once he joined the church choir, we taught him some basic skills of reading music. He studied it so intensely that it got so he could identify a note on the staff much quicker than I could. There is still a sticky note on his desk that has two staves with treble and bass clefs and the notes labeled for each clef.

My favorite April Fool's joke we played on him involved Lord of the Rings. My mom doesn't like the violence, so she hasn't watched it with us. But she does enjoy old time comedies. One time while my dad was at a meeting, my mom and I were watching I Love Lucy. As soon as we heard the garage door, we jumped up and changed the DVD to Return of the King, and I hastily fast forwarded as far as I could get in the movie. We were in the middle of the climactic battle when he entered the house. My mom was watching intently as if she was enjoying it. My dad was so excited and proud of me and he came and gave me a hug and then he went in the other room to put his stuff away. He was hoping to watch the rest of it with us, but when he got back in the room a couple minutes later, we were watching I Love Lucy again.

One way he encouraged me was to tell me regularly that I missed my calling in life. It was a different calling every time he said it. When we were younger he taught us the basics of massaging as he gave amazing massages. When I would give him a massage he thought I should be a chiropractor. When I would correct his grammar, spelling or punctuation, he thought I should be an English teacher. He was great at giving compliments and making people feel special.

Dave and Oksana Elsinger (missionaries to Ukraine who worked with my dad)

Oksana and I will remember Ron as a friend and co-laborer in the ministry to kids with disabilities in Ukraine. We remember how Ron and Linda were a great help when they served on a ministry trip with us to Lutsk and Kyiv, Ukraine several years ago. Ron was a big help and he and Linda never complained about the less-than-ideal traveling conditions we experienced. We are thankful for Ron's example of a joyful and humble servant of the Lord!

Sharon Limb (missionary to Mongolia who worked with my parents - this was a comment on my tribute to my dad shortly after losing him)

To the Sauke Family, I am saddened to hear of Ron's passing but happy for him to be well and in heaven. He was such a gracious man with a warm and welcoming smile. I was just gazing at your parent's picture on my refrigerator photo wall and thinking that I need to be in contact with Linda. Thank you for the family history and tribute. I will be praying for your family.

If you would like to watch his memorial, we streamed it so people around the world could attend virtually:

Mister Rogers' New Neighborhood

Fred Rogers was one of those rare people who was able to maintain a child-like spirit in a world full of grown-ups who had lost all sense of the wonder of childhood. He could always find the positive things in life, no matter what was going on. In scary situations, he advised us to "look for the helpers" (quoting his mother). He was widely admired across the globe. Our world needs more people like him, who show kindness to everyone, no matter their background, skin color, beliefs or anything else, and encourage others to do the same.

I wrote this poem February 27, 2003 after he passed away from stomach cancer. It is based partly on the theme song for Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, and mentions some of his puppets.

Mister Rogers with King Friday
Fotos International/Getty

He’s in a new neighborhood
And it’s a beautiful day up there
The streets are made of gold
And the lake is clear as crystal
He’s meeting new friends
And reuniting with old friends
And all the neighbors are bowing
At the feet of the One who made them neighbors
The One who taught them
How to be a neighbor

It’s a beautiful day in the new neighborhood
It will always be day in the new neighborhood
It will never end
No more need to pretend

He introduced us to King Friday
Now he bows before the King of Kings
He talked about Prince Tuesday
Now he kneels before the Prince of Peace
We learned about a tiger, a cat and an owl
He has now met the Lion of Judah and the Lamb of God

He’s always wanted to have a Neighbor just like that.

Light in the Darkness

It was just after midnight when my brother got the call from the hospital. My mom came in the room, and when she saw him on the phone at that hour of the night, she knew it couldn't be a good sign. A few minutes later, he turned the phone over to her and came and got me. My worst fears were confirmed when we got into the kitchen and he said, "Dad just died."

The hospital wondered if we would like to come see him before they moved him to the morgue. I knew I needed to go. Once my mom was done talking to them, we gathered in a hug, the three of us huddled together in grief. We got dressed and went to the hospital. One of the nurses met us at the door and escorted us up, as it was after visiting hours. He looked much more peaceful than he had a few hours previous when I had talked to him and said my good byes (but in the hopes I would be able to come back the following day to talk more, and hoping and praying he would recover against all odds). A charity had donated quilts to the hospital for patients on comfort care, which the family got to keep. We gathered around his bed. It was an important part in saying good bye, but I hadn't expected it to be so soon! He went so quickly. We took his belongings and the quilt home. The quilt is now on our couch. We would get to see him once more, a few days later at the funeral home.

The jar
(My painting Le mont Rainier is in the background.
As it was December, we had our nativity scenes up.)

As friends and family heard the news, people started sending flowers. I got a big bouquet from my team at work. It meant a lot. But the most meaningful gift for me came from my friends Kim and Jason Kotecki. I have mentioned them on my blog in the past. Jason is a masterful artist who has done many amazing paintings. One of his recent paintings is called Hope in the Darkness. It has a mason jar on the grass with fireflies inside and flying upward out of the jar. There are trees at night in the background. It is dark, but the light from the fireflies indicate hope, bright lights flying through the air and providing their own light where there isn't much. (My blanket has that painting on it as well.)

Hope in the Darkness
Jason Kotecki, 2020
Used with permission

I picked up the box from them at our door and wondered if I had ordered something from them and had forgotten about it. It was heavier than I expected. When I opened the box, I found a mason jar with rocks in it. I was confused at first, but after a bit of examination realized what it was. It had semitransparent blue river rocks with fairy lights wrapped around the rocks inside the jar. It also has an on/off switch and a battery compartment. It harkens back to his painting.

The flowers we received were very meaningful, but that jar lamp meant more to me than I can express. I use it all the time before going to bed. In a way, it's almost like my dad is there with me, shining a light into the room. I miss him.

But their kindness didn't stop there. Kim and Jason's oldest daughter Lucy makes amazing winter hats. I ordered some at an excellent price, and she outdid herself. Jason's dad Walt (a cancer survivor and an amazing person) offered to talk by phone and be a comfort. All of that meant the world to me.

Kim recently lost her dad. I pray for their family's comfort and encourage anyone who feels so inclined to join me. I'm so thankful she got to spend time in the hospital with her dad before the end. We've had so much grief and loss in the past few years. COVID, international conflicts, earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes, shootings, cancer, and so much more. We all need comfort and love. The world needs more families like the Koteckis, who make an effort to reach out and offer a prayer, a hug, an ear to listen, creativity, immense talent, and so much more. Kim likes to talk about chosen family, who are not related by blood, but are as good as family. They are part of my chosen family.

There is always hope in the darkness. Even in the darkest night, there are always glimmers of light and hope if we know where to look. The Koteckis remind me to be the light for someone who needs it.

Tsunami!

I wrote this poem December 28, 2004 after the massive 9.0 earthquake and tsunami two days earlier across the Indian Ocean. It claimed over 225,000 lives in Indonesia, Sri Lanka, Thailand, Myanmar, Maldives, India, Somalia, Kenya and Seychelles, among other countries. The devastation was horrifying, and it claimed lives indiscriminately, from the poorest to the richest. Among the dead was 21-year-old Prince Poom Jensen (พุ่ม เจนเซน) of Thailand, grandson of King Bhumibol Adulyadej (ภูมิพลอดุลยเดช, 1927-2016), the third-longest-reigning monarch in history. The quote at the end of the poem is from Psalm 46:1-3.

This seemed appropriate to post now, in light of the recent devastating earthquake in Syria and Türkiye. The death toll for that is in the thousands last I heard. I can't begin to fathom the devastation and loss from either disaster.

Image by Viks_jin, Adobe Stock

The sun shone bright on the tropical sea
The palm trees swayed gently in the breeze
As the waves brushed softly against the beach.
Who could know what was about to happen?

His Highness the Prince set out on his jet skis
An old beggar asked for money to buy his next meal
A monk knelt before a statue of Buddha
While someone else, facing Mecca, said a prayer to Allah
A mother put her child down for a nap
And tourists lounged lazily on the beach
Snorklers took in the splendor of the magnificent coral
As the sun beat down on Asia and Africa

Then it happened.

The waves grew suddenly large
The rising water engulfed the beggar
As the trembling ground felled the ancient Indonesian temple
And the mosque collapsed in the force of the quake
As a great island shifted 100 feet to the southwest

The earth stopped shaking
But the disaster was far from over
The waves rose higher
Great walls of water threw His Highness into the sea
And dashed the snorklers against the rugged coral
The angry ocean crashed into the beaches
And took the tourists by surprise
3000 miles the water traveled
To wash away African villages
As countless mothers and children across the coasts of Asia and Africa
Were swept from their homes into the raging sea

The sheer force of the tsunamis
Lifted many off the ground
And hurled them far inland or out to sea

How many were lost that day?
How many more will be lost to disease?
Who can say?
But this I know:
God had a reason for this
May His Kingdom be advanced through this,
The worst tragedy of the young century

May this be our comfort:
"God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging"

Let us run to Him
And take shelter in His loving arms
God will be exalted.
Praise His holy Name!

Black and White Surprise

Shortly after my aunt and uncle got married in 1986, my aunt informed me that they had "a black and white surprise" at their house. She didn't elaborate, but it set my imagination running. What could it be?

The next time I visited their apartment was when I met Alley. She was a beautiful kitten and a fantastic feline cousin. My human cousins Annika and Andréa were born later, and they grew up with Alley. I wrote this poem October 20, 2004, shortly after their beautiful cat left us at the age of 18. She lived a good long life and brought a lot of joy to everyone she met.

Alley
1986 - 2004

They had a black and white surprise
What could it be?
A new piano? An episode of Lucy?
Perhaps a figurine set upon the mantle?
Or could it be...?

A black and white kitten!
A surprise and a joy
She pranced and pounced
She stood on her hind legs
As her front paws reached for that yarn

She purred and she played
A house became a home
As she welcomed new family members
The black and white surprise grew into a beautiful cat
As she played with a newborn baby, and then with a toddler
Soon came another baby
And the black and white surprise
Mixed her meows
With the children's joyful coos and squeals of glee.

She was there for all
A joy and a comfort
Always ready and willing to sit on a lap
And be lovingly stroked

And the black and white surprise grew old
As she napped in the yard
And purred on folks' laps
Always a joy
Always a wonderful, loving cat

But her health began to fail
She could no longer run and play
And one day she closed her beautiful eyes
For the last time

There she lies
Those sparkling eyes closed forever in sleep
And we can only remember
An adorable kitten, playful and sweet
A young cat, generous and loving
An aged and wizened feline, majestic and kind

And as always,
A black and white surprise.

Seven Astronauts

Tomorrow marks the 20th anniversary of the horrible disaster in the skies over Texas, when seven lives were lost in the Space Shuttle Columbia while re-entering our atmosphere.

I wrote this poem February 2, 2003, the day after it exploded almost exactly 17 years after the tragedy with the Space Shuttle Challenger. I still remember where I was when I watched the Challenger explode on January 28, 1986. Both explosions were deeply traumatic, and both included members who made history, not just in the explosions, but in breaking glass ceilings and paving the way for astronauts, explorers and scientists in the future.

Space Shuttle Columbia tribute poster
Graphic design credit: NASA/Amy Lombardo.
NASA publication number: SP-2010-08-163-KSC

Seven children once gazed up at the stars
And wondered what it was like up there.
Over Israel, India and the United States,
The skies looked down on them
Seeming to call to them

Seven children grew up
Dreaming of what they would do
They became pilots, doctors, scientists, colonels

They watched in horror
As the Challenger blew up
Shortly after takeoff
Not knowing that they would one day
Suffer a similar fate

Seven men and women were accepted by NASA
To explore the heavens
To conduct scientific experiments

Seven families and three nations
Watched in awe as the spaceship lifted off
They dreamed of their fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters
Up there in the skies
Houston got reports of their findings
Scientific knowledge advanced
Until the communication stopped

Seven families waited at Cape Canaveral’s landing strip
Eagerly awaiting their loved ones’ return
They did not expect their joy to turn to tears
They did not expect to hear news of the Columbia
Exploding over Texas
Scattering all over the largest continental state in the US

Seven men and women were lost that day
Seven families learned that their loved ones
Would not be returning
Seven families suffered the same pain
As seven other families
Seventeen years earlier
Three nations lost their sons and daughters
The first Israeli and the first Indian in space

Lost.

Why did this happen?
How?
Praise the Lord
He can do wondrous things
He can work through tragedies
Who knows?
Perhaps this was the tragedy
That will cause many lost souls
To consider where they will go
Maybe people will be saved for eternity
Because God used an exploded space shuttle
And seven lost lives
To bring them to Him

May God have all the glory!

The crew of the Columbia
David Brown, Rick Husband, Laurel Clark,
Kalpana Chawla, Michael Anderson,
William McCool, Ilan Ramon
Photo by NASA

Disaster in the Skies

January 29, 1986 in the Philippines, January 28 in Florida. I was in second grade at the time, and my mom taught kindergarten at our school in the Philippines. I usually hung out in her classroom before and after school. The launch of the Challenger on its tenth mission had been at 12:38 AM Philippine time (11:38 AM the the day before, EST). I believe it was before school that we were to watch the historic launch. My mom said, "Let's go see the spaceship!" I was excited because spaceships and astronomy have always fascinated me. At the time, the entire elementary shared an Audiovisual (A/V) Room, where classes went when lessons involved movies. (I remember watching Back to the Future at a sleepover in that room in 4th grade, two years later.) We ran from her classroom to the A/V Room, where teachers were gathered to watch the launch at Cape Canaveral. Excitement turned to horror as we watched this projected on the big screen:

Photo by NASA, Kennedy Space Center

Christa McAuliffe was the first teacher and the first private citizen to join a space mission, as part of the first Teacher in Space Project, and it was a huge deal. As I was in second grade, I don't remember a lot about the aftermath, but I do remember running to the Audiovisual Room, and standing in horror as we watched the unthinkable disaster unfold. It is a moment I will never forget.

It's hard to believe this year marks the 37th anniversary of that awful disaster.

The final crew of the Challenger
Ellison Onizuka, Christa McAuliffe, Greg Jarvis, Judy Resnik
Michael Smith, Dick Scobee, Ron McNair
Photo by NASA

NASA Orbiter tribute poster for the Challenger
Graphic design credit: NASA/Lynda Brammer.
NASA publication number: SP-2010-08-162-KSC

The Sun Sets on Wireless Advocates

Friday, March 31, 2017. I had finished a day of work, and was proud of my accomplishments of the day. I was in a long-term contract position at a medical supplies company, and my performance was better that week than it had ever been. So it was a bit of a shock when I got out to my car and listened to my voicemail. It was my agency alerting me that my contract had ended. No warning, just "Today was your last day." The agency was as surprised as I was, as the feedback from the company they had received had always been positive. There were tears.

Fast-forward a couple weeks. My agency found a temporary position at a company called Wireless Advocates, which managed wireless kiosks in Costco and on military bases. I had done a short-term job there back in 2011, so it was a return of sorts. It was set to last 3-4 weeks, as they needed some help processing orders. April 2017 became May, which became June, and so on... To make a long story short, after multiple extensions to the 3-4-week job, during which time I was trained on more responsibilities than what was originally included in my job description, my manager offered me a permanent position. It was my first permanent job after years of temping. In one previous job, I was told they would have hired me permanent, but that company had recently been acquired, and due to the uncertainty of the merger process, they couldn't promise that it would be long term. (In fact, I worked in three departments as departments relocated to other states.) In my position that I lost in 2017, they even considered me for a permanent position.

So it was that in January 2018, I began a permanent position at the national headquarters of Wireless Advocates in Seattle, working with the most amazing manager I have ever worked with. Our team has been like a family. Through ups and downs and challenges over the years, my manager and team have always been there. We have supported each other, and I have often wondered what I did to be on such an amazing team, where I could get help from anyone, and offer help back when they needed it. I have thrived in this position in ways that have surprised me. I have loved working with customers and associates around the country. In March of 2020, as we were realizing more and more the massive ramifications of the COVID pandemic, our office transitioned to working from home. The new arrangements provided new challenges, but our team maintained regular contact and remained as cohesive as ever. Working from home has also been a surprising blessing as I have been caring for my parents over the past few years. We lost my dad to a stroke last December, just over a year ago, and I have continued to care for my mom since then. It has been nice to be able to be able to assist when they need help during breaks and lunches. When I was done with my work day, I was already home, so didn't need to take time for the commute home. I have loved being able to give my all to my job, while also being available for family when they need help. During this time, I have also learned that I have ADHD, which has been a big help in managing challenges I have faced all my life, but only in the past few years have I started putting it together and gotten checked for it. (It also explains some challenges that I encountered in my previous job, and it would have been useful to know at that time.) My manager has done an amazing job of working with this knowledge, leveraging my strengths and working with my weaknesses. This has challenged me to work harder to be the best I can be.

Enter another shock. Yesterday we learned that the company is closing down. Wireless kiosks around the country are closed, and we at the national headquarters will be here for two more months. This is the second time I have been at a company that has shut down (the previous time was due to the company being acquired by a competitor). I truly feel for all my associates around the country who are now searching for a job. Despite the difficulty of the circumstances, particularly this time of the year, I have been deeply impressed with our management, and our team is becoming even more cohesive as our time at the company comes to an end. Though we at headquarters have a job for a couple months yet, we are starting to search now. During my spare time, I have been working on updating my resume.

I don't know what is on the horizon, but in my experience, shocking endings have led to new beginnings that I never would have predicted. In retrospect, as difficult as it was to lose my previous job, I realize that if I had not lost it right then, I would not have been available at just the right time for this "3-4 week" position that ended up turning into a permanent position working for and with the most amazing manager and team of my career thus far. If it were not for the horrible blow our nation and the world received at the beginning of 2020, we would not have started working from home, and I would not have been as available to help my parents as they have needed more assistance, while still being able to do as much as I have for a job that I love. Of course, that is not to minimize the heavy losses we have all sustained over the past few years. These have been difficult and devastating times for everyone.

My friend Jason Kotecki is an artist and motivational speaker. He had a syndicated cartoon in the newspapers a few years ago called Kim & Jason, with characters loosely based on his wife Kim and himself as children, in addition to other family members. Since 2000, they have waged a campaign to fight the menace of adultitis, that villain that robs people of their sense of child-like wonder and curiosity as they get older. I highly recommend checking them out at escapeadulthood.com. One thing Jason likes to ask is, "Now that this has happened, what does it make possible?" They have had their own set of challenges that at the time were horrifying (you can read about some of them here, here, here, here and here.) His challenge has been a massive help to me in this time of uncertainty and as I reflect back on difficult times that have ended up leading to surprising silver linings.

I don't know what the future holds, but I trust God to lead me, and I look forward to whatever is on the horizon.

I took this picture in 2019 from the roof of our building. At the time I didn't consider how much of an encouragement it would be, but a sunset is a beautiful thing. It symbolizes an end, but as the last rays of the sun paint a colorful canvas on the sky, we know that a new day is coming and the sun will rise again.

I took the following pictures last year of sunrise over Lake Michigan in Sheboygan, Wisconsin. (I call the first one Crouching Sunrise, Hidden Raccoon. Extra credit if you can find the raccoon!) Will the proverbial sunrise that follows the sunset of Wireless Advocates look something like this? Only time will tell, but I look forward to finding out!

To my colleagues around the country, it has truly been an honor and pleasure working with you. I wish you the best as you search for your sunrise. I know whatever companies you work for next will have acquired some amazing new talent that will help them thrive!