Marsha's Blog

Many years ago, Tony bought a hat. It was 1991, the year we spent in Colorado while our son Trevor was being treated for leukemia. After several weeks sitting by his bedside, a friend came and 'kidnapped' Tony, taking him up to the mountains to go skiing. Tony protested, insisting that he couldn’t be away that long, and besides, what father would do something like that while his son suffered?  He ended up going, and by evening, he told me that it probably saved his life. What a blessing, to step away from reality, if only for a few hours. Every time we see our friend (whose name is Mark), we thank him for the way God used him that day.  At the ski lodge that day, Tony bought a hat, similar to what he used to wear all the time when he lived in Texas. He and Mark agreed that it was good to look back at those days once in awhile.  Years passed. Many years. After eight months in hell, we said goodbye to Trevor, took his ashes back to Japan as per his wish, and tried to carry ...

 I'd like to talk about siblings for a moment.  I have one sister and Tony has none. But actually, he did have “siblings”, in a way, because Tony's folks had a love for young people and always had a few 'strays' living with them.  As a result, I've never seen any aspects of him being an only child, but I'll let him tell you about all that. I have a sister, Sherry, just 6 years older than me. Sometimes blessing, sometime pain, but always part of our loving family, as I’d like to think you would agree when thinking about your own siblings. I have lots of memories of wanting to be 'big' and get to do 'big girl things' like she did.  She got to go to movies with friends, sometimes spend whole summers with the cousins etc.  One year she even 'got' to go to boarding school, although in thinking back, I’m not sure it was a mutually agreed decision at the time.   But it turned out to be a good thing, with the result that when I got to go 4 years ...

 I still remember sitting cross legged on our bed for weeks and weeks counting up $20 bills.  We were fairly newlyweds, still in college, but we had decided that we would take off and 'see the world' when we had enough saved up.   That was about 55 years ago and believe me, our definition of “the world” back then did NOT go beyond the borders of the United States. Our world was much smaller then, and so it wasn’t entirely unreasonable that we just might be able to pack up the car and see just a bit of it.  And that’s what we did in the summer of 1971. We looked over our ’64 Ford convertible, took a deep breath and decided it could still handle the road. It had done okay for our honeymoon (Ask us about the bear in the tent that trip if you haven’t already heard it); it could do it again.  Finally with a fist full of $20 bills, we packed up and headed for Vancouver, where we planned, if possible, to head in the direction of Alaska.  We had neither the ti...

  I happened across an old familiar parable the other day. It’s the one about seeds and the different kinds of soil it falls into when it’s sown. It shows up in three of the four Gospels.  You know how it goes.  There was a farmer, and he broadcast some seeds.  Some fell on good soil, some on rocky, some on bad.  Some sprouted and grew, but with lack of water and nourishment they were soon taken out.   After this morning, I would like to add my own “Australian version” of that parable.  ALL of my beautiful little green tomatoes, showing so much potential for harvest, were just getting ready to turn a nice rich red when something, most likely a possum, came under the cloak of darkness and wiped out my entire crop.  To say I was angry is an understatement. It’s not just the tomatoes; it’s the injustice! I bought the seedlings. I prepared the pots. I watered faithfully every morning. It’s just not fair!  And the rage doesn’t stop at the gar...

 Today I'd like to tell you the tale.  It could go something like the line by Charles Dickens in the Tale of Two Cities' and start off with: "It was the best of times and it was the worst of times." Yoshioka is a small village a few miles north of Sendai, Japan, where we lived most of our career.  The thing that struck us every time we went out there was the sense of history.  It was over 700 years old, and that was back in the ‘80s.  We came to know the place because a doctor by the name of Abe Sensei, ran a clinic there. By God’s grace, he became a Christian sometime in the ‘50s, and that changed the course of the land.  Because of his concern for the town and society, and wanting to share Christ in the community, he started a preschool with a church attached.  It sailed along with great success for over 40 years.  We got involved when Tony was asked to come play his guitar for the children once or twice a week.  It became a real bright spo...

 He is Risen!! I'll keep it simple today as I'm sure you're all getting your bonnets and gloves together for church!  Those words are enough to bring up a whole pack of memories. I’ll always remember the excitement of “dressing up” for Easter Sunday. It’s a tradition that sadly seems to be losing ground in the face of the Me Generation’s “Comfort is Everything” way of thinking these days, but I’ll leave that soap box alone for now.  In my home, Easter was a day for lace and hats and shiny white shoes. Never mind that where we lived in the Rockies west of Denver, snow was a very real possibility, and spring snows (like around Easter time) could be particularly wet and sloppy. But nothing could stop us from trying our best to look our best, even when the weather outside was, well, less than best.  We persevered because Easter spoke of New Life. And what better way to celebrate than by dressing up for the occasion? Why don’t you give it a try, Young Folks? You’ll love i...