Dearest friends, family,
I cannot thank you enough for the many messages, texts, cards, posts on Facebook, flowers (thanks, Delynn!), and other tangible demonstrations of support that Ryan's family and I have gotten from loved ones this week. One of Ryan's former campers even wrote an open letter to her baby son about where he got his middle name of "Ryan", and it was powerful! I still consider myself to be so fortunate to forever be linked to this incredible person that left such an indelible mark upon the world around him. Thank you, Ryan, for making us all better and for bringing glory to your Savior.
That six-week stretch of time from Ryan's birthday through this week has been challenging at times as I have reflected upon the incredible loss that we all experienced a year ago. I am so grateful that the God I serve is the same God for which this verse is written: "When I am in distress, I call to you, because you answer me." (Psalm 86:7, NIV) The unbelievable peace and joy that I've been able to still have even in the midst of grieving is only because of the mercy and goodness that my heavenly Father has poured out on me over and over again. When I'm afraid, sad, confused, hurt, or lonely, He is more than enough! It is the same way with Colton and his mama. When Colton heard an enormous clap of thunder during a storm last night, he came running to me and jumped in bed with me. His mom is his safe harbor. Our God is a safe refuge in the midst of a storm (Isaiah 25:4). I can't imagine having gotten through this past year in one whole piece without the grace and protection that I have received from God.
But I would also like to share with the readers of this blog about the most incredible experience that I've gotten to have as a parent. This past Monday night, one year later (almost to the minute) from when Colton said goodnight to his dad, Colton prayed and asked to receive Jesus into his heart! He was quite insistent with me that he wanted to follow God at that very moment. I was so blessed and honored to be able to do that with my precious son. He turns four tomorrow (April 14), and his dad was also four when he first followed the Lord. I am amazed at God's timing, and so excited to know that someday all three of us will be together again in eternity.
Life continues to go well for Colton and I. We've had the opportunity to travel a little more, make some memories together, and we have had people come into our lives that have been timely friends and have brought much joy. Colton still asks about his dad a few times a week, and we get to have wonderful conversations about his dad's character. He did go through a period of time not that long ago where his sadness about his dad was perhaps a little overwhelming to him, but now he seems to have evened out a little bit. He is doing amazingly well and I'm grateful that God seems to have given each of us (and also gave Ryan) a little extra share of resilience when he created us.
Again, thanks to all of you for continuing to pray for us and to think of us and reach out. I'm grateful for every message sent my way and I can feel the grace that you are asking God to give me! With God behind me and the body of Christ around me, Colton and I continue to stay upright and moving forward.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Sunday, October 13, 2013
A fitting memorial
Today, Ryan's grave marker was put in place. It took me an exceptional amount of time to think about exactly how to put who Ryan was into a two-foot wide slab of granite. Lots of thanks to Ryan's parents and my friends for being my sounding board and offering suggestions or affirmations. Thanks also to Ryan's cousin David for the beautiful craftsmanship.
What I ended up loving the most about this stone is the scripture that is on it. "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God." (Psalm 20:7, NIV) This scripture so embodies who my Ryan was. Although he loved horses and was often defined by his cowboy lifestyle, he was most defined by his faith in Jesus Christ. The picture also illustrates the way that Ryan led his life fully submitted to his Savior. Oh, I am so proud of you, Ry.
In case you are interested in visiting this, Ryan was buried at Hersey Village Cemetery, an eighth of a mile west of the main street in Hersey (near his hometown of Reed City) on Three Mile Road. His gravesite is at the extreme east end of the cemetery.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Memorial service remarks
Hello,
Sometime this week the video of the memorial service will be uploaded. It was a long service (somewhere between an hour and a half to two hours), so it's taking some time to digitize and upload. It should be done sometime after Wednesday.
In the meantime, here is the text of the remarks that I made about Ryan at the memorial service and what it meant to Ryan to live in high definition - and what it means for the rest of us that are left behind. I have been asked by a few people to upload this.
"Living in High Definition"
Good morning. It is amazing to me to look out over this crowd of people and be once again reminded of the impact that my husband had on a number of people. While the pain that I and my families have felt this week has been suffocating, we have been blessed beyond measure of the response that we have had from around the world, hearing of how Ryan has impacted people – not just in the last two years, but for 27 years. Ryan’s passion for the Lord, his love for his family, and his desire to do things that made a difference for the Kingdom of God are all of the things that we admire about him and what draws us to this place today. Whether he was a family member, a friend, a coworker, a former teammate, a classmate, a counselor, or even just a guy whose blog we read and admired – Ryan has impacted all of us not just because of the smile, his laugh, his sense of humor, or his practical jokes – but because of the brilliant light of hope that he reflected through Jesus Christ.
One of the things that I think we all admired about Ryan was the fact that despite his response to his cancer diagnosis was extraordinary, he was in fact a very ordinary person in real life. I was married to him for almost seven years and dated him for four and a half years prior to that. I can readily attest to the fact that Ryan had faults. As a matter of fact, many of you may not know that Ryan had a criminal record. Yes. He was convicted of a misdemeanor three years ago. After we bought our house in Claybanks Township, we had a devious horse that kept coming up with ways to break our fence and bust herself and our other horse loose, and they always headed towards the freeway that was just a mile from our house. Deuce and Riata got loose three times in one month, and Ryan frantically kept trying to repair the electric fence that they had broken. After the third time they got loose, the state police caught the two horses on the entrance ramp to the freeway. As Ryan zoomed up in his green pickup truck to retrieve the horses, the very unimpressed state police officer gave him a citation for – wait for it - livestock at large. We did not have any idea that someone could be cited for such a thing! Ryan tried very hard to fight the citation, but he ended up pleading no contest to a misdemeanor and was fined. Although Ryan didn’t think it was so funny at the time, we had many good laughs imagining him having to declare his misdemeanor of “livestock at large” on a future employment application.
So despite his criminal record, I had the immense honor and privilege of marrying and being the best friend of this incredible person. Many people have asked me for the past two years whether or not Ryan really meant what he said on our blog and at his speaking engagements and if he was different at home. To answer that succinctly, absolutely not. While Ryan did struggle with the thought of leaving the rest of us behind – especially Colton and I - I never heard him complain about his illness, and he never once complained of how this whole situation was terribly unfair. Of course he was human, but his faith and his response never wavered throughout 24 months of heavy treatment, rollercoaster scans, and ultimately the blow that we received at the end of his long hospitalization and in his final days as he realized that he was close to death. Ryan was a person that was truly graced by God with the determination to praise his Savior no matter the circumstances that were thrown his direction. And he had the confidence and the burning desire to share this praise with the world at large, so that other people might also be impacted by Jesus Christ.
So what makes a young man, with his whole life ahead of him, be able to respond this way? I want to turn your attention to the passage on the inside of the program, from 2 Corinthians 4: 16-18. “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” You see, one of the most remarkable characteristics about my husband was what he chose to fixate upon. He did not fixate upon cancer. He chose to fix his eyes on what was unseen, on things of eternal value. His ultimate hope was not just to be healed of cancer, but rather no matter what happened to him, his hope remained completely rooted in the salvation that he had through Christ Jesus. And because of that hope, he did not lose heart. Though outwardly his human body wasted away, each and every day he was renewed by his hope in the Lord. In that passage, Paul talks about “light and momentary troubles”. This is said by Paul – the Apostle Paul – the man who was beaten, shipwrecked, and imprisoned. Ryan also considered his troubles to be light and momentary – the radiation, the countless rounds of chemo, the side effects from medication, the loss of physical strength. However, both Paul and Ryan considered that their present sufferings were not worth comparing to the glory that would be revealed in them.
And that, my friends, is the very essence of what Living in High Definition is all about. Eternal perspective. I would like to share some of Ryan’s very own words from a blog that he wrote in March of 2012.
"Some days this cancer and the future feel overwhelming. I may very well have a lot of pain and suffering in my future. I may have the loss of dreams and goals and hopes. Continuing to work at being obedient and living our faith out is hard, very hard at times. Yes as bad as all this feels - what must Glory be like? If it makes this hell that we are going through seem "light and momentary" - what must eternity be like! Chew a moment on what could possibly make shipwrecks, beatings, imprisonments, poverty, sickness, and more seem "light and momentary". How does that not motivate us to do everything we can to honor God?
That is Living in High Definition. To see every situation and circumstance through an eternal perspective. Fixing our eyes on what is unseen, what is eternal! I can relate to Paul's feeling a death sentence, but I'm also starting to understand the incredible future that is called Heaven. It doesn't just give me peace, it drives me to serve Him more and more."
Ryan chose to see life in high definition. To trust God. To obey Him. To honor his family and to choose not to stress about things that were temporary. It was not always an easy decision to have eternal perspective or to be obedient. But time and time again, Ryan and I said aloud to each other – to live in high definition is ultimately a choice. It’s a choice that sometimes has to be made even several times a day. But all it is, is a choice. And when trials come, as they so often do, a person that lives life in high definition is going to be able to stand tall, as Ryan did, and handle trials with grace and dignity, knowing that Scripture promises us in Romans 5 that “suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”
I know my husband very well. I know that he would be so touched by the fact that so many of his friends and family and supporters came here today to remember him and to support his wife and his family members. He would laugh at our jokes, and he would add several of his own, and some of those jokes would probably border on inappropriate. But he would also ask these questions: What do you believe? Why do you believe it? And if you have faith, what are you going to do with it? Are you going to use your faith to impact the world, or are you going to hide it under a rock? And when circumstances happen: does your faith define your circumstances or do your circumstances define your faith? He would want every single person here to know that it is possible to live life in high definition. It first takes faith in Jesus Christ. And then it takes total surrender to God’s purposes for your life. Life will not always be easy – it wasn’t for Ryan. But Ryan finished his short life well, and I imagine that as he entered heaven and kneeled before the throne, his Heavenly Father touched his beautiful dark hair and looked into his warm brown eyes, and said, “Well done, good and faithful servant. Welcome home.”
I miss him more than I ever could have imagined. My husband, my best friend, my son’s father, our inspiration, cowboy, comic relief, brother, son, grandson, nephew, friend. He has truly left a legacy so deep and so wide that the world will remember him for years to come, and even more importantly – Colton will keep learning the rich spiritual lessons that Ryan so bravely taught in the midst of his illness. Ryan will have left more of a legacy in his short life than many people do in a full life. Although I ache for the profound loss that my son and I will acutely feel for years, I do rejoice today in knowing that my best friend is safe in the loving arms of Jesus, where he will remain for eternity – and because I have the same hope that he had, I will once again see him before long.
Until we meet again, cowboy. I love you.
Sometime this week the video of the memorial service will be uploaded. It was a long service (somewhere between an hour and a half to two hours), so it's taking some time to digitize and upload. It should be done sometime after Wednesday.
In the meantime, here is the text of the remarks that I made about Ryan at the memorial service and what it meant to Ryan to live in high definition - and what it means for the rest of us that are left behind. I have been asked by a few people to upload this.
"Living in High Definition"
Good morning. It is amazing to me to look out over this crowd of people and be once again reminded of the impact that my husband had on a number of people. While the pain that I and my families have felt this week has been suffocating, we have been blessed beyond measure of the response that we have had from around the world, hearing of how Ryan has impacted people – not just in the last two years, but for 27 years. Ryan’s passion for the Lord, his love for his family, and his desire to do things that made a difference for the Kingdom of God are all of the things that we admire about him and what draws us to this place today. Whether he was a family member, a friend, a coworker, a former teammate, a classmate, a counselor, or even just a guy whose blog we read and admired – Ryan has impacted all of us not just because of the smile, his laugh, his sense of humor, or his practical jokes – but because of the brilliant light of hope that he reflected through Jesus Christ.
One of the things that I think we all admired about Ryan was the fact that despite his response to his cancer diagnosis was extraordinary, he was in fact a very ordinary person in real life. I was married to him for almost seven years and dated him for four and a half years prior to that. I can readily attest to the fact that Ryan had faults. As a matter of fact, many of you may not know that Ryan had a criminal record. Yes. He was convicted of a misdemeanor three years ago. After we bought our house in Claybanks Township, we had a devious horse that kept coming up with ways to break our fence and bust herself and our other horse loose, and they always headed towards the freeway that was just a mile from our house. Deuce and Riata got loose three times in one month, and Ryan frantically kept trying to repair the electric fence that they had broken. After the third time they got loose, the state police caught the two horses on the entrance ramp to the freeway. As Ryan zoomed up in his green pickup truck to retrieve the horses, the very unimpressed state police officer gave him a citation for – wait for it - livestock at large. We did not have any idea that someone could be cited for such a thing! Ryan tried very hard to fight the citation, but he ended up pleading no contest to a misdemeanor and was fined. Although Ryan didn’t think it was so funny at the time, we had many good laughs imagining him having to declare his misdemeanor of “livestock at large” on a future employment application.
So despite his criminal record, I had the immense honor and privilege of marrying and being the best friend of this incredible person. Many people have asked me for the past two years whether or not Ryan really meant what he said on our blog and at his speaking engagements and if he was different at home. To answer that succinctly, absolutely not. While Ryan did struggle with the thought of leaving the rest of us behind – especially Colton and I - I never heard him complain about his illness, and he never once complained of how this whole situation was terribly unfair. Of course he was human, but his faith and his response never wavered throughout 24 months of heavy treatment, rollercoaster scans, and ultimately the blow that we received at the end of his long hospitalization and in his final days as he realized that he was close to death. Ryan was a person that was truly graced by God with the determination to praise his Savior no matter the circumstances that were thrown his direction. And he had the confidence and the burning desire to share this praise with the world at large, so that other people might also be impacted by Jesus Christ.
So what makes a young man, with his whole life ahead of him, be able to respond this way? I want to turn your attention to the passage on the inside of the program, from 2 Corinthians 4: 16-18. “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” You see, one of the most remarkable characteristics about my husband was what he chose to fixate upon. He did not fixate upon cancer. He chose to fix his eyes on what was unseen, on things of eternal value. His ultimate hope was not just to be healed of cancer, but rather no matter what happened to him, his hope remained completely rooted in the salvation that he had through Christ Jesus. And because of that hope, he did not lose heart. Though outwardly his human body wasted away, each and every day he was renewed by his hope in the Lord. In that passage, Paul talks about “light and momentary troubles”. This is said by Paul – the Apostle Paul – the man who was beaten, shipwrecked, and imprisoned. Ryan also considered his troubles to be light and momentary – the radiation, the countless rounds of chemo, the side effects from medication, the loss of physical strength. However, both Paul and Ryan considered that their present sufferings were not worth comparing to the glory that would be revealed in them.
And that, my friends, is the very essence of what Living in High Definition is all about. Eternal perspective. I would like to share some of Ryan’s very own words from a blog that he wrote in March of 2012.
"Some days this cancer and the future feel overwhelming. I may very well have a lot of pain and suffering in my future. I may have the loss of dreams and goals and hopes. Continuing to work at being obedient and living our faith out is hard, very hard at times. Yes as bad as all this feels - what must Glory be like? If it makes this hell that we are going through seem "light and momentary" - what must eternity be like! Chew a moment on what could possibly make shipwrecks, beatings, imprisonments, poverty, sickness, and more seem "light and momentary". How does that not motivate us to do everything we can to honor God?
That is Living in High Definition. To see every situation and circumstance through an eternal perspective. Fixing our eyes on what is unseen, what is eternal! I can relate to Paul's feeling a death sentence, but I'm also starting to understand the incredible future that is called Heaven. It doesn't just give me peace, it drives me to serve Him more and more."
Ryan chose to see life in high definition. To trust God. To obey Him. To honor his family and to choose not to stress about things that were temporary. It was not always an easy decision to have eternal perspective or to be obedient. But time and time again, Ryan and I said aloud to each other – to live in high definition is ultimately a choice. It’s a choice that sometimes has to be made even several times a day. But all it is, is a choice. And when trials come, as they so often do, a person that lives life in high definition is going to be able to stand tall, as Ryan did, and handle trials with grace and dignity, knowing that Scripture promises us in Romans 5 that “suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”
I know my husband very well. I know that he would be so touched by the fact that so many of his friends and family and supporters came here today to remember him and to support his wife and his family members. He would laugh at our jokes, and he would add several of his own, and some of those jokes would probably border on inappropriate. But he would also ask these questions: What do you believe? Why do you believe it? And if you have faith, what are you going to do with it? Are you going to use your faith to impact the world, or are you going to hide it under a rock? And when circumstances happen: does your faith define your circumstances or do your circumstances define your faith? He would want every single person here to know that it is possible to live life in high definition. It first takes faith in Jesus Christ. And then it takes total surrender to God’s purposes for your life. Life will not always be easy – it wasn’t for Ryan. But Ryan finished his short life well, and I imagine that as he entered heaven and kneeled before the throne, his Heavenly Father touched his beautiful dark hair and looked into his warm brown eyes, and said, “Well done, good and faithful servant. Welcome home.”
I miss him more than I ever could have imagined. My husband, my best friend, my son’s father, our inspiration, cowboy, comic relief, brother, son, grandson, nephew, friend. He has truly left a legacy so deep and so wide that the world will remember him for years to come, and even more importantly – Colton will keep learning the rich spiritual lessons that Ryan so bravely taught in the midst of his illness. Ryan will have left more of a legacy in his short life than many people do in a full life. Although I ache for the profound loss that my son and I will acutely feel for years, I do rejoice today in knowing that my best friend is safe in the loving arms of Jesus, where he will remain for eternity – and because I have the same hope that he had, I will once again see him before long.
Until we meet again, cowboy. I love you.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
My promise to my dying husband
Your smile.
Anytime I think of you, the first thing I see in my mind’s eye is your megawatt smile. Your friendliness, your openness, and your sense of humor, all amplified and highlighted by your toothy, crooked grin.
That grin caught my eye over a decade ago, and ultimately captured my heart. From the first days of our relationship when we were just a couple of love-struck high school students, to the moment you saw me walking down the aisle, to the moment I saw you first lay eyes on your son, to the moment now when I enter your hospital room—your smile melts my heart, Ryan. You still dazzle me.
Life with you has been easy because it has been clear from the start that God uniquely wired us to be together. You challenge me, you sharpen me, you inspire me, and you make me a better person. Your unwavering commitment to the Lord makes my own relationship with Him much richer and more intentional because I have you to look to as an example of what it means to live a life sold out for Christ. Even through the last two years, as we have walked the road of your terminal cancer diagnosis together, life has remained colorful and sweet because our God is gracious to me, and you are one of the three biggest gifts I've received from Him. Salvation and our son are the other two.
On May 13, 2006, I saw your huge smile as I made my way down a short aisle to marry you. And on that day, you and I made a lot of promises to each other. "...from this day forward, I will devote myself to you and our family, second only to God / I commit to loving you, as much during difficult times as well as times of happiness / in victories as well as defeats / All these things I promise to you."
When I look back, so much has happened in almost seven years and I have realized that it’s time to restate exactly what I promise to you. Life has happened. And as we stare down this monster with hands clasped together and the Lord firmly entrenched behind us, I want to leave no doubt that you know these things.
Ryan Scott Prudhomme, I promise to you that I will cherish your memory as long as I live. Your character, your integrity, your heart for the Lord, and your unshakable faith in Him are all reasons that I, along with many others, will continue to regard you as a most extraordinary person. I admire you more than you could imagine.
Ryan, I promise to you that your son will know you as he grows. Any creative way that I can devise to ensure that he grows up feeling close to you—I plan to do it. Any person that can tell him about your jokes, your idiosyncrasies, your personality traits—I will ensure those people have an avenue to tell your son about his beloved daddy. Regardless of whether you get to parent him for two or twenty or seventy years, I pledge to you my commitment to raise him to know his dad.
I promise to you I will not despair, I will not be broken, and I will somehow, someday, some way again feel joy and peace. During the last two years, I know your first thoughts are usually of me—not of yourself—and you have been far more worried about me and Colton. Your love for me has never been more evident and has helped gird me through some very difficult times. I could never have done this without your faithful prayer and your encouragement, but I’m entering into a new phase where I won’t have the luxury of your nearness. Despite that, I know deep down that I am a person that can shoulder anything, as long as the Lord stands behind me. And He will. I will, with His grace, stand tall and will endure whatever tomorrow brings. Don't you worry.
My last promise, Ryan, is not a new one—and it’s not a promise to you. It’s a promise to my Lord and Savior. I promise that my trust in the Lord will not be broken, bent, tarnished, punctured, pushed, nor shaken. I have no idea what He is orchestrating. I may not ever know until I am able to question Him in person someday. But I know the character of the One who alone knows the number of our days, He who knew you from the time before you were born and still, to this day, holds you and I in a tight, secure grip. His goodness and his mercy have been the constancy that we have so sorely needed during the last two rollercoaster years.
My darling, I love you more than I could ever have guessed that I would have loved you when you first flashed that unforgettable smile at me in the crowded hallway of our small high school. You are more than just my husband: you’re my best friend, my closest confidant, my sparring partner, my teacher, and my hero. When I close my eyes and think of you, I will always remember the sweet happiness of being perfectly matched to a person that pushed me to be a greater version of my own self.
And I’ll never forget the beautiful smile on your face.
Which always will bring one to my own.
-Kendra
I wrote this letter to Ryan while he was hospitalized at CTCA in March. After he read it, he strongly encouraged me to release it on our blog when I felt that it was the appropriate time. We both pray that it is effective in bringing encouragement to those that read this blog.
Photo Credit: Yeoman Photography, Big Rapids, MI
Monday, December 12, 2011
Definitely defiant, but still lovable.
Our son is not perfect.
My whole parenting world came to a screeching halt about three weeks ago when I picked up Colton from daycare and April, our wonderful daycare lady, told me that Colton had in fact bitten another child. I FREAKED out. MY CHILD? Yes, I knew already that he bites occasionally, but I had been the only person that he's ever bitten...and only when he was super tired. For a while, he was more accurately telling me that he was tired by attempting to bite me than yawning or rubbing his eyes (I'm thankful that he's over that stage). When April told me the unfortunate news, I kind of understood how my mom felt when a police officer told her that my brother had stolen a stop sign. I will not say which brother, in order to protect the ... um, innocent? That phrase doesn't seem to fit here. Anyway, I was very upset with Colton.
The biting episode was a stand-alone event, thank goodness. However, that day it seemed like my son realized that being naughty was something that he should try more often. THIS IS AWESOME! BITING, HITTING, WHINING, DISOBEYING - yeah! My docile, compliant, even-tempered toddler has quickly degenerated into a screaming, completely irrational, angry child. Last Tuesday, after he went in timeout after timeout after timeout for not letting me brush his teeth, I sat down on my bathroom floor and sobbed along with him. I don't know what I'm doing. This parenting stuff doesn't come with a manual, at least not a comprehensive one. (Chapter 335: What to do when your 19-month-old tries to boss you around and won't brush his teeth).
Last night after the house was quiet, picked up, and I could begin to reflect on the last few hellish days with Colton, I came to the conclusion that he could even ramp up the naughtiness tenfold and I'd still love him with every fiber in my body. He is my flesh and blood. I'm not going to stop loving him even though I briefly thought about enrolling him in toddler boarding school. I would keep extending him grace time and time again, because he is my son and I love him so much.
Our heavenly father, our most perfect parent, loves us intensely even though not a one of us deserves it. Imagine what we, adult humans, must look like in the eyes of a righteous God. It's easy for me to look at Colton, shake my head, and remark, "What a toddler!" because I am much more mature than he is. Imagine what our petty remarks, anger, selfishness and negative attitudes look like to our perfect God. And yet he loves us so.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
What is your legacy?
I've started something new for me this year at school. I've done "warmups" in the past that have posed students questions to get them thinking about Spanish/French. This year I decided to revamp it to "learning logs" - I'm getting them to do some more metacognition and processing through the "how" and "why" of the language, and pulling more prior knowledge out. Then I had the fantastic (in my opinion) idea of starting every day with a short personal question to get them to do more introspection. I've had some of the most amazing conversations with my students that are sometimes relevant to languages, and sometimes just relevant to growing as individuals, and in character, leadership, and attitudes.
Today's question was: "Let's say that I see you walking down the street 10 years from now. What would you want me to remember about you? In other words, what positive characteristics about yourself do you want others to notice?"
I prefaced their writing by telling them that at the tender age of 12, 13, and 14, they are already building their legacy. What they say and do now is already partially defining who they are as an individual, and they are making impressions on people that are going to last a lifetime.
Not every student took it seriously. I did have a couple of students that told me that they want to be remembered "a clown" and someone wanted to be remembered as hyper. Bahhh. Okay, we're striving for perfection and we'll get close eventually. :)
But some of the thoughts that poured out of those eighth grade minds humbled and amazed me. They wanted to be remembered as kind, flexible, helpful, compassionate, responsible, a person with good character, friendly, a leader, a good student, and even a good role model for others. I adore these kids. They get it. They get it!
We are all going to be remembered for a while after we die. Some of us may even make a huge lasting impact and be remembered for a really long time. People are watching us every day, and whether you like it or not, your movements are mentally recorded and the sum total of your interactions with others is the legacy and reputation that you become known for. I don't know about you, but I've been working overtime since I became aware of this reality a few years ago, and I've redoubled my efforts to try and ensure that my character is reflective of Christ's work in my life. I don't always achieve this. But all we can do is try our best to live out Luke 10:27, “ ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’ ; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ ”
Today's question was: "Let's say that I see you walking down the street 10 years from now. What would you want me to remember about you? In other words, what positive characteristics about yourself do you want others to notice?"
I prefaced their writing by telling them that at the tender age of 12, 13, and 14, they are already building their legacy. What they say and do now is already partially defining who they are as an individual, and they are making impressions on people that are going to last a lifetime.
Not every student took it seriously. I did have a couple of students that told me that they want to be remembered "a clown" and someone wanted to be remembered as hyper. Bahhh. Okay, we're striving for perfection and we'll get close eventually. :)
But some of the thoughts that poured out of those eighth grade minds humbled and amazed me. They wanted to be remembered as kind, flexible, helpful, compassionate, responsible, a person with good character, friendly, a leader, a good student, and even a good role model for others. I adore these kids. They get it. They get it!
We are all going to be remembered for a while after we die. Some of us may even make a huge lasting impact and be remembered for a really long time. People are watching us every day, and whether you like it or not, your movements are mentally recorded and the sum total of your interactions with others is the legacy and reputation that you become known for. I don't know about you, but I've been working overtime since I became aware of this reality a few years ago, and I've redoubled my efforts to try and ensure that my character is reflective of Christ's work in my life. I don't always achieve this. But all we can do is try our best to live out Luke 10:27, “ ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’ ; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ ”
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
FACT: God loves you.
I feel the need to share this, even though it doesn't have much to do with cancer.
"I have done too many horrible things."
"I treat my family awfully."
"I have never read the Bible."
"You should see how many past relationships I have. I'm a tramp."
"My own parents don't love me. How can God?"
"I pray all the time for God to take away my pain, but he doesn't. My life is horrible."
"I've had too many painful things happen to me, and I'm angry that God let them happen."
"I don't even think God exists."
He doesn't love me.
He doesn't care.
Wrong.
Dearest friends, acquaintances, strangers, and Google searchers: I want you to know that no matter what you have done in your life, whatever you are struggling with, God's love is unconditional.
It is not dependent on what you do.
You haven't earned it. It's just there.
Isn't that a relief?
If you're a parent, let me appeal to your emotions for a second. You love your child, no matter what. Recently Colton has been beginning to show his "true" colors, so to speak. He throws tantrums for the silliest reasons. Today he thought that perhaps he could escape the humiliating confines of his carseat by screaming, thrashing, and kicking. All it did was knock off his shoe. His tantrums drive me insane, like 20 fingernails screeching down a chalkboard all at once. But you know what? In spite of the fact that I can barely grocery shop with him anymore without an embarrassing meltdown, I adore that kid. Right after he vomits on me, I coo over him. He smacks me across the face intentionally, and I love him still. Dirty diaper? Yep, I'll gladly change it for him with a smile on my face (okay, that was a stretch). Yes, he does give the best hugs and kisses which are awesome, but the only thing that he has ever done to merit my love is to have been born. And truthfully, I was pretty intensely in love with him before he born. I loved him from the minute I saw two lines on a pregnancy test, since the moment that I knew he (or maybe she, at that point in time) existed.
God's love for you is that same tender, all-encompassing love. Yes, he is fully just too. He hates sin, and yet he intensely loves the same wretched people that break his commandments every single day. I have been getting emails and comments from people that think I'm being very transparent on this blog. Here is a moment of transparency: although I am a sinner saved by grace and strive (mostly) to live my life in accordance with God's will, I.screw.up.constantly. I lie occasionally. I am so mean to my husband sometimes that it's ridiculous. I am short with my son. I think judgmental thoughts about people. I could go on and on, but I still want you to have a shred of respect for me!
And you know what, I was far, far worse before I was saved. Without dredging up a lot of painful, emotionally-charged memories, I will succinctly summarize the first half of my teenage years as rebellious and hedonistic. None of that matters anymore. I don't like it, I'm not proud of it, but it happened and now I understand adolescence in a unique way that many others don't. And the moment that I decided to follow Christ at the age of 16, every last one of those sins was forgiven. Wiped out.
Because my God cared enough about me to allow his son to die on a Roman cross for my sins (lucky for you that I'm not God, because I would not be so generous with my Colton). My sins are forgiven, and I will not spend eternity apart from God. That is the ultimate peace that Ryan and I have: whenever the Lord chooses to take us home, eternity is taken care of for us...it is just the part between now and then that freaks us out.
And you know what? Even though there is a painful, hard situation that God is allowing me to go through, that does not mean that he loves me less than you, or that I'm being punished. God is in the process of doing some very painful surgery on my heart and on Ryan's. I feel like we are being dragged through an emotional meat grinder on some days, and we kind of are. But throughout this, God's grace has been more tangible than I can describe to you. His peace has descended on us like a security blanket, and he has sent people and words of encouragement to us at incredibly specific times to gird us. We are not alone, and our God has not forsaken us. I do know that he hurts to see us hurt, but in these hard times, he wants us to RUN to him and pour our troubles at his feet.
God loves you. Intensely. He created you to be exactly who you are. He has allowed things to happen to you that shape who you are as a person. You are unique. But your story, however painful and rotten and horrible it is, is just your past. What you do with his love, the love that was poured out on you at Calvary, is what defines you and your future and your legacy.
So. I strayed far from the topic of cancer, but there was definitely a tug at my heart to tell you this good news.
"I have done too many horrible things."
"I treat my family awfully."
"I have never read the Bible."
"You should see how many past relationships I have. I'm a tramp."
"My own parents don't love me. How can God?"
"I pray all the time for God to take away my pain, but he doesn't. My life is horrible."
"I've had too many painful things happen to me, and I'm angry that God let them happen."
"I don't even think God exists."
He doesn't love me.
He doesn't care.
Wrong.
Dearest friends, acquaintances, strangers, and Google searchers: I want you to know that no matter what you have done in your life, whatever you are struggling with, God's love is unconditional.
It is not dependent on what you do.
You haven't earned it. It's just there.
Isn't that a relief?
If you're a parent, let me appeal to your emotions for a second. You love your child, no matter what. Recently Colton has been beginning to show his "true" colors, so to speak. He throws tantrums for the silliest reasons. Today he thought that perhaps he could escape the humiliating confines of his carseat by screaming, thrashing, and kicking. All it did was knock off his shoe. His tantrums drive me insane, like 20 fingernails screeching down a chalkboard all at once. But you know what? In spite of the fact that I can barely grocery shop with him anymore without an embarrassing meltdown, I adore that kid. Right after he vomits on me, I coo over him. He smacks me across the face intentionally, and I love him still. Dirty diaper? Yep, I'll gladly change it for him with a smile on my face (okay, that was a stretch). Yes, he does give the best hugs and kisses which are awesome, but the only thing that he has ever done to merit my love is to have been born. And truthfully, I was pretty intensely in love with him before he born. I loved him from the minute I saw two lines on a pregnancy test, since the moment that I knew he (or maybe she, at that point in time) existed.
God's love for you is that same tender, all-encompassing love. Yes, he is fully just too. He hates sin, and yet he intensely loves the same wretched people that break his commandments every single day. I have been getting emails and comments from people that think I'm being very transparent on this blog. Here is a moment of transparency: although I am a sinner saved by grace and strive (mostly) to live my life in accordance with God's will, I.screw.up.constantly. I lie occasionally. I am so mean to my husband sometimes that it's ridiculous. I am short with my son. I think judgmental thoughts about people. I could go on and on, but I still want you to have a shred of respect for me!
And you know what, I was far, far worse before I was saved. Without dredging up a lot of painful, emotionally-charged memories, I will succinctly summarize the first half of my teenage years as rebellious and hedonistic. None of that matters anymore. I don't like it, I'm not proud of it, but it happened and now I understand adolescence in a unique way that many others don't. And the moment that I decided to follow Christ at the age of 16, every last one of those sins was forgiven. Wiped out.
Because my God cared enough about me to allow his son to die on a Roman cross for my sins (lucky for you that I'm not God, because I would not be so generous with my Colton). My sins are forgiven, and I will not spend eternity apart from God. That is the ultimate peace that Ryan and I have: whenever the Lord chooses to take us home, eternity is taken care of for us...it is just the part between now and then that freaks us out.
And you know what? Even though there is a painful, hard situation that God is allowing me to go through, that does not mean that he loves me less than you, or that I'm being punished. God is in the process of doing some very painful surgery on my heart and on Ryan's. I feel like we are being dragged through an emotional meat grinder on some days, and we kind of are. But throughout this, God's grace has been more tangible than I can describe to you. His peace has descended on us like a security blanket, and he has sent people and words of encouragement to us at incredibly specific times to gird us. We are not alone, and our God has not forsaken us. I do know that he hurts to see us hurt, but in these hard times, he wants us to RUN to him and pour our troubles at his feet.
God loves you. Intensely. He created you to be exactly who you are. He has allowed things to happen to you that shape who you are as a person. You are unique. But your story, however painful and rotten and horrible it is, is just your past. What you do with his love, the love that was poured out on you at Calvary, is what defines you and your future and your legacy.
So. I strayed far from the topic of cancer, but there was definitely a tug at my heart to tell you this good news.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Who are we?
So the question that has been thrown around several times in the last week around the Prudhomme household has been: "Who are we?" Not literally, because we know our names and identities. What I mean is that we have no idea why people have chosen to pour out their love on us. We are two ordinary, incredibly flawed people who have been placed in the middle of extraordinary circumstances. We are glad that people love us, but it just makes us scratch our heads!
Saturday was the much-anticipated Rodeo for Ryan, and the outpouring of love was intense. Everywhere I looked, there was a sea of humanity. There were over one thousand people that descended upon Paradise Ranch. Everywhere there were people talking. Laughing. Serving. Smiling. Giving. Playing. Running. Relaxing. Rocking. Singing. Having fun. And the diversity of people brought together was unbelievable - people that we know from all walks of life. Port Huron, Lansing, Detroit, Grand Rapids, Kalamazoo, Jackson, Colorado Springs, Pittsburgh, Chicago, Indianapolis, and Dallas all had representation at the rodeo. We didn't realize how many people care about us. We kind of thought it would be big, but we didn't realize that it was going to be huge.
And the giving! The final counts are in and they surpassed $50,000 but there are still donations coming in! FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS! Something that you may not know is that Ryan is not able to get life insurance. Since he was diagnosed with PSC at the age of 20, he has not been insurable. We tried very hard this past winter to find a policy that would cover someone with that disease, and we thought we had found one. We sent in our premium and waited. A couple of weeks later our insurance agent called us and said, "Um, I've never had this happen before but your life insurance policy was rejected, and the company actually rewrote their bylaws to specifically say that they would not cover someone with Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis." Great. The premium check was returned to us the same week that Ryan was diagnosed with cancer. So the Lord taketh, and he giveth back. We have this money now for medical expenses, and although we pray hard that it doesn't need to be used for life insurance, at least we have something now in case of that. I don't think that it's by accident that God returned almost exactly 50k to us.
We don't know how to adequately express our gratitude. Neither of us has ever been the recipient of a gift like this. Neither of this has ever had something of this magnitude done for us. A simple "thanks" seems insufficient, but it's a start. Thank you for your time, volunteers. Thank you for your many hours of phone calls, designing signs, getting volunteers, getting donations, and serving us, planning committee. Thanks for coming out to the rodeo, especially those of you who had a far distance to drive or even fly. Thanks so much for emptying your pockets and purses and giving to a family whom many of you barely know. Thank you to the vendors and individuals who donated things ranging from handmade journals to live pigs to quilts to potatoes to vacations to jewelry - the list goes on and on! Thank you so much for your words of encouragement and for your many prayers. Thank you God for blessing this event, and by tangibly showing us how much it meant to You by holding back rain around Paradise Ranch while every other place within a mile of the ranch had downpours.
Who are we to deserve this much love? We don't. Neither do you. None of us deserve the grace and love that we have been given. Regardless, you have chosen to live out John 13:34-35: 34 "A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. 35 By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."
Saturday was the much-anticipated Rodeo for Ryan, and the outpouring of love was intense. Everywhere I looked, there was a sea of humanity. There were over one thousand people that descended upon Paradise Ranch. Everywhere there were people talking. Laughing. Serving. Smiling. Giving. Playing. Running. Relaxing. Rocking. Singing. Having fun. And the diversity of people brought together was unbelievable - people that we know from all walks of life. Port Huron, Lansing, Detroit, Grand Rapids, Kalamazoo, Jackson, Colorado Springs, Pittsburgh, Chicago, Indianapolis, and Dallas all had representation at the rodeo. We didn't realize how many people care about us. We kind of thought it would be big, but we didn't realize that it was going to be huge.
And the giving! The final counts are in and they surpassed $50,000 but there are still donations coming in! FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS! Something that you may not know is that Ryan is not able to get life insurance. Since he was diagnosed with PSC at the age of 20, he has not been insurable. We tried very hard this past winter to find a policy that would cover someone with that disease, and we thought we had found one. We sent in our premium and waited. A couple of weeks later our insurance agent called us and said, "Um, I've never had this happen before but your life insurance policy was rejected, and the company actually rewrote their bylaws to specifically say that they would not cover someone with Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis." Great. The premium check was returned to us the same week that Ryan was diagnosed with cancer. So the Lord taketh, and he giveth back. We have this money now for medical expenses, and although we pray hard that it doesn't need to be used for life insurance, at least we have something now in case of that. I don't think that it's by accident that God returned almost exactly 50k to us.
We don't know how to adequately express our gratitude. Neither of us has ever been the recipient of a gift like this. Neither of this has ever had something of this magnitude done for us. A simple "thanks" seems insufficient, but it's a start. Thank you for your time, volunteers. Thank you for your many hours of phone calls, designing signs, getting volunteers, getting donations, and serving us, planning committee. Thanks for coming out to the rodeo, especially those of you who had a far distance to drive or even fly. Thanks so much for emptying your pockets and purses and giving to a family whom many of you barely know. Thank you to the vendors and individuals who donated things ranging from handmade journals to live pigs to quilts to potatoes to vacations to jewelry - the list goes on and on! Thank you so much for your words of encouragement and for your many prayers. Thank you God for blessing this event, and by tangibly showing us how much it meant to You by holding back rain around Paradise Ranch while every other place within a mile of the ranch had downpours.
Who are we to deserve this much love? We don't. Neither do you. None of us deserve the grace and love that we have been given. Regardless, you have chosen to live out John 13:34-35: 34 "A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. 35 By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."
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