To Learn to Surf

The sound of crashing waves, call to me,
My footprints in the sand, lead down to the sea.
The sky all around, is a hazy light grey,
Sunshine glints on water, I hope it shall stay!
My wetsuit protects me, from the ocean’s cold bite,
I push against the powerful surge, holding surfboard tight!
I get out a little further, the water’s chest deep high,
I’m just learning to surf, but it may’s well be to fly!
Face toward shore, stomach against board...here comes a wave!
Then I’m shooting foreword, the surf rolls about me,
I push hard with my arms and I’m up on one knee!
For a moment I’m one with the wave and utterly free,
But my board tips and I’m given up, to the mercy of the sea.
I come up sputtering, but my eyes are shining bright,
Maybe next time the water will show pity, on my learning curve plight.
The ocean is my friend, though mysterious and wild,
For I must now empty my lungs of water, and get my leash undefiled!
But one day, yes one day, upon the perfect wave I shall ride,
My surfboard beneath me, and above the blue sky.

by Reina Fennell

Dear CHe-S community: I hope you won’t mind me continuing to communicate about my husband Kim.  If feels like anything I have to share relates to him, and for this year, I sense my communications will be a continual dedication to his memory.  Here is another story but it ends with something very school related!

Last Summer, Kim and I attended a family camp in preparation for what we thought then would be a trip to Israel in the fall.  Kim was already experiencing lots of symptoms of his illness but we had no idea it was cancer and he and I were trying to have faith for our trip to Israel; therefore we kept saying “we’re going”.  But most of you know the story and we didn’t get to go to Israel this fall.  During the family camp I met a dear lady who was also preparing to go to Israel.  She became an instant friend and I was drawn to her accepting and mentoring personality.  I felt she would be someone I would connect with when we went to Israel.  This friend Karen, has several children but she only had the youngest daughter with her at family camp as the other children are older and not at home anymore.  Her husband was a strong man who I was also drawn to and felt instant friendship with.  I say all this to help you understand the context of what Karen introduced to me.  What amazes me is how God takes seemingly unrelated aspects in our lives and uses it to bring something special and meaningful our way.

One evening Karen started telling me about a book series that I had heard about but had no idea would become so significant in our lives.  Karen mentioned Little Britches in a very short conversation. She briefly indicated it was a story where a father passes away and it’s great for boys.  I was a little surprised she knew so much about it since she has a daughter, no sons at home anymore, and she was reading this very boy book to her daughter.  After we returned home from the family camp Kim’s symptoms quickly intensified, he eventually couldn’t eat, was hospitalized, and passed away Oct. 5.  When I finally got home after a whirlwind of excursions, Karen’s words about this book series kept resonating in my heart. I thought, “I’ve got to discover more about this series she so briefly mentioned. I love this lady, she shares our heart for Israel, what she shared about this series must be significant.”

Well now, 3 months later, we have all the series in our home and two of the boys have read through everyone of the books.  If you are looking for a good family series that builds character, work ethic, and bone-deep integrity, I highly recommend Ralph Moody’s life series starting with Little Britches.  We have lots of growing to do as a family experiencing a “new normal”.  I’m thankful for a series that gives example of success after tragedy. 

Go here for the order of the series, and go here for a book review.

Pursued

Helplessly running,
the night so dark and dreary,
legs weary and gasping for breath,
My eyes wide and teary
desperately I flee from death.
Behind me I glance,
for I hear a thunderous sound,
I see nothing only hear,
a hundred footsteps strike the ground
greater now I fear.
The outline of a man slowly becomes clearer.
Fear grips my soul, my heart pounding.
Within shouting distance the man stands,
With a harsh, powerful voice he barks commands.
Waiting patiently, breath held; with no escape from this terror.
Gradually he walks my way, have I been discovered?
Dear Lord I pray he has not found my hiding place,
can you not see the hatred in his wicked face?
If I am found I shall be captured...
enslaved and hated, no good will be there,
I am not born as them, it is unfair.
They don't understand, I am a human like them,
through their eyes I am one condemned.
The tall, broad man curiously walks my way,
I hold still and begin to pray.
He knelt down on one knee and there we were face to face,
paralyzed with fear, he found my hiding place!
To my surprise he did nothing but stare,
I saw pity beyond compare.
Perhaps I was unclear,
and clouded by fear.
He pressed his finger upon his lips,
hushing me, for I saw the sword at his hips.
He dare not reveal me, for he knew what lay ahead
a life with agony and dread.

-Rebecca Zwozdesky