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Peter Drucker is the guru of management. As someone earning her Master’s Degree in Public Administration I’ve been exposed to his stuff over and over. He’s been revered as the transformer of management technique since the whole subject was recognized back in the late 1800’s. He wrote a book called “The Practice of Management.” It’s a must read for those pursuing management degrees.

I’m reading a couple of his books as I wait for the fall semester to restart my official studies. I’ve hit the wall, but I’ve made contact with my university and I think there is hope still for me to complete my MPA. I’m still learning from my own reading, and it all helps with my new position as staff with a Chinese/American NGO.

Management as a study isn’t that old.

Whether it is business management or public administration, the past 150 years is when this became a “thing.”

Before that there were merchant guilds, lords, nobles, kings and empires. The “science” of managing was an exclusive affair.

Now people like me can study how to control all sorts of things. Managing is really a form of controlling.

Attempting to control variables and make something new for good or profit is the crux of the science.

One thing that I have learned from my own studies and managing a classroom of students at the public school where I teach is that you choose the things you can best manage, control, and leave the rest alone.

God is in control. He is my back-up. A Christian has this advantage. If everything hits the fan I can run to Him.

I know I can’t handle most things, so these days I don’t manage much but my time. I “control” my time. It’s freeing.

When you stand back and think about it you realize that you attempt to control/manage all sorts of things in your life.

Choosing where you put your management effort is vital to living a more peaceful life. If you’ve been given management responsibilities prepare yourself for major trouble. Managing things is difficult.

It’s not a piece of cake.

You simply cannot control all the variables.

At most, it is a hope that things will work according to a strategic plan. Controlled outcome is a myth.

God is in control. We are not.

Thank You, Lord!

It has been awhile since I wrote last. Dear faithful readers! You have stuck with me all this while!

I chose to participate in a grief group a week ago. I was ready for it, and it was probably therapeutic for me. I cried.

The thing about a grief group is that it highlights normal things, warns about the abnormal, and keeps account. I wasn’t ready for it until now, myself, but it was a good thing for me, overall.

I won’t be able to go all the time, but I plan to participate as possible.

I also started to see a counselor.

She was very affirming. She was supportive. I felt validated and helped.

A very good friend gave me a book/journal written and formatted by a woman who also lost her husband. As I perused the pages I realized my grief has been pretty “normal.”

We have the same thoughts.

I’m watching my mom as she processes her transition to being a widow. It’s a very different experience from mine, but it still has parallels.

Death of a spouse is death of a spouse. If you are married and outlive your spouse you will experience the pain.

Some of you know that I have had deep burdens since Brian passed away. I cannot share everything publicly on this blog, but know that there has been deep pain and loss on almost every front.

My counselor breathed a sigh after our first session and told me she hadn’t seen pain like mine before.

Yeah.

It’s been hard.

As I have surfaced for normalcy, as if I’d been diving in a sea of inertia, I have touched the air of living again.

I’ve gotten my sleep schedule back. I don’t wake up in the middle of the night for hours any more. I am actively pursuing my CrossFit and swimming schedule. I feel physically better.

I’m trying to remember things more. I simply had no memory for the past 2 years. I’m positive that I offended some people because I simply couldn’t remember a thing I was supposed to.

If I didn’t write it down right away it was lost forever. I appreciated my friends who persisted and forgave me.

I most often forget events I’m supposed to attend, or said I would. Introvert that I am, events can be something I do not anticipate.

It’s not that I’m antisocial. I just like being at home and cozy. I like books and long conversations with quiet moments and good person.

I used to love giving tea parties—prophecy teas—and hosting Bible studies. I can’t do that now. Maybe someday in the future.

If I stay single I need to make some plans to move to a more manageable home.

For now, the Lord is helping me. HE will always help me. He promised.

My east Asian studies have provided much diversion over the past year. I celebrated Chinese New Year with two friends who I’ve met through my studies. There is a new Asian Mall on the west metro side of Minneapolis. Pretty authentic Asian stuff, I believe. We went there for delicious Korean food that day. The celebration included a dragon parade and pretty dances. The crowd was significant!

I’ve been able to connect worldwide with new friends who share this new interest, and it brings joy.

Learning Chinese has been wonderful.

If stuff is piling up in a heavy way I just “leave for China” in my mind. It works. It’s coping. Someday I hope to actually travel to China, but for now it just in the books.

I’ve got some other projects in the “oven” these days, and I’m having fun with them.

I bought my first plane tickets in seven years. I’m planning two trips to be with a good friend and my wonderful cousin. South, sunshine, pools, and maybe a day at the beach, all necessary for mental health this time of year.

God is good.

He gives us what we need, lavishly even.

Ed has been job searching. He has some possibilities. Pray for him, please. His diploma arrived this week. What an accomplishment.

Our family doesn’t do the graduation ceremony with the Mason’s Mortar Board over the head anymore. We’re too uncomfortable with that symbolism since waking up to the puppet-masters and their agenda.

A degree is a degree. We’re thankful for that.

On we go. The path ahead seems to be getting a bit easier, smoother, straighter.

One step at a time.

Ultimately I’m looking up. That is my hope and my goal: the Rapture.

MARANATHA!

Fun busy. My Chinese “son” came to visit for a couple of days, and we are thrilled. We’ve had such great moments recalling memories, visited our old house where he stayed with us, out to a favorite burger place, driving around in the deep snow.

I’m still able to only say a few things in Chinese, but he is so encouraging. He’s the sweetest.

I feel blessed.

The weather has been weird here: smog, ice, deep snow, slippery roads. It’s sort of confirming to him that he wants to live somewhere else!

I wonder if we’ll be dealing with this strange climate until March or April. It can be brutal.

Cherie and I shoveled at least a ton of snow last week. The weather actually has been taking up time in our existence. That happens here in the northland.

Weather matters.

I had a big birthday this past week, too. I’m sixty now.

Somehow this birthday was the hardest I’ve ever had. I never thought much about age. I know that I as a kid I didn’t think I’d live to be forty. Fifty happened with little fanfare and no adverse affect.

Sixty is hard, though. Perhaps it is the events of the past 10 years of my life.

My fifties were hard.

Maybe I should look at this as an invitation to new beginnings and …..joy?

I saw the verse/thought about God not letting us go this week. He doesn’t let go.

I admit to feeling like He has let me go, somewhat. Things are difficult. I wonder what the next hard thing will be.

The Word says that He hasn’t let me go. I believe the Word. I won’t believe my feelings.

I’m sixty.

I’m God’s child.

It isn’t about this life, ultimately. It’s about the next. Age is just a number, after all.

MARANATHA!

This middle of the holiday weekday,—-and this year it is actually a Wednesday—three days between Christmas and New Year’s Day, is a day to mark for several reasons, at least psychologically.

It’s a day of recovery and planning.

We have had several days off from school, several still to go. Productivity should be at a maximum. We’re rested, full, inspired, and thinking about new beginnings.

Celebrating Christmas is simply a way to celebrate Jesus! I try to do that everyday, but Christmas is at a time of year when it’s dark and cold (really cold this year!!) and we need a bit to coax our spirits through this annual slump.

I chose to put away the Christmas decorations already this year. I believe Jesus was probably born in September due to clues in the Christmas story about where the Shepherds were hanging out. Christmas is a day to mark and celebrate, but I needed to get on with things this year.

Today it’s dark at 7am, but the hours of sunlight are visibly lengthening.

For the depressed this is actually palpable and positive.

Christmas is hard for those of us who have lost.

The last two years have been a slow motion crawl toward acceptance. I have had to accept that my life is completely different from any of my expectations and that I am past my expiration date to begin anew.

I am turning 60. My dad’s death and previous decline showed me I am tied to my family. I can’t run from my pain. New beginnings may be attempted, but they are hard to achieve. I am still attempting.

I am talking about positive new beginnings. To begin a life that is full of sadness and pain is an option, but not a good new beginning.

Here on this Wednesday between Christmas and New Year’s Day I plan to work out, plan, clean, and pray.

My personality type makes lists: endless lists. I don’t check things off, I just write everything down. I did that for years. It’s helpful to me, actually. I keep in my mind the things that I must. I have a compass of things important.

It’s sort of like the series from IBLP “Command of Christ.” You cannot possibly follow the 49 commands at all times, but knowing them and practicing them as they become relevant is the goal. The book likens it to a ship’s navigation system. It’s a good analogy. The compass and the tools are there to guide the ship. The ship gets to the port by their help and guidance.

IF you haven’t seen that series, you should. It’s simply excellent. If you love Jesus you should obey His commands. The Bible says that.

So, along with the list of Christ’s commands I will make my own list of resolutions. It’s a long list. One thing on the list is to lighten up and enjoy the beauty of Minnesota. I have been tied down for so long I need to stretch my wings. I’m going to get out the convertible and drive around the lakes this summer. I’ve lost weight and I feel healthy. I’ll let my hair down and breathe the clean air! I want to get confident at towing the Scamp up to Crosslake and beyond…the dogs can join me!

I want to publish my artwork on my blogs, finish illustrating my latest book, excel at Chinese, make some recordings, read all the books that have been gathering dust, clean and purge, define Corgi Hollows, travel.

Let’s think big. It’s Wednesday between Christmas and New Year’s, after all.

I’m so glad we love and belong to a God that created us, loves us, forgives us, understands us, and lets us begin new every morning.

He lets us begin new every year, month, week, day, minute. This is even a new millennium. The 1,000 year-reign of Jesus Christ is on our horizon. I’m looking ahead to reigning with Christ, in the flesh. That’s Scriptural.

So on this important day of setting goals and being productive let’s keep the future and the hope we have central.

I’m looking up.

MARANATHA!

Ed is going to graduate. Finally. This is his last week of school, only a project is due on Monday. He was assured of passing this semester.

I praised my second son in the last post. He deserves every word of praise and blessing.

Ed had a different path.

Here are his incredible challenges, just for starters;

Diagnosed with BPD at age 15, 8 months later with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. (ALL)

Brushes with death four times.

Three and a half years of daily chemotherapy.

Osteonecrosis. Two knee replacements. Avascular Nacreous.

Death of his dad, death of his grandfather, death of an uncle and aunt.

Physical pain, emotional pain, life stuff.

Through all of this he got a degree in mathematics from North Hennepin Community College, and now a degree in Computer Engineering from the College of Science and Technology, University of Minnesota. (B.S.E.)

He has an affinity for languages. He’s dabbled in Russian, Esperanto, and now Japanese.

It has been a fight for him, every day.

Still, he has learned to play the pipe organ, blessed many with his keyboard skills.

His sunny personality and quick wit are priceless. He maintained his sweet outlook despite the challenges that would have floored most. They would have floored me.

He’s tall and handsome, sweet and humble.

God has blessed me with such a wonderful son. He graduates, and I’m chomping at the bit to celebrate this accomplishment. It was fought for.

Because he spent two summers interning at a medical tech company in this area he is probably going to start working with them for real soon. They have been good to him, and he has excelled there.

His future is open, and in God’s hands.

He’s a believer.

Celebrate with me!

My second son had a milestone birthday. He is my quiet child, rarely sharing his ideas with me.

But actions speak WAY louder than words, and I have nothing but praise for him and his actions.

As most of you readers know, I “unschooled” my children. Because I have a teaching degree I had the guts to be experimental. I chose to spend mornings reading Bible stories and other great works of literature to my kids.

I never graded them, never tested them except to fulfill the Minnesota state education laws, that included a yearly standardized test.

I kept track of their progress with that test. There were always weaknesses noted, and strengths. I never worried.

Now, all of you know that all of my kids have at least one college degree, four of them have two. My method worked for me.

Putting an emphasis on the Commands of Christ, Biblical literacy, and English literature was the key to their success, I believe.

But my second son excelled. He was the top academic ROTC cadet in this entire area, a program that included every college and university in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area. He won award after award in the ROTC department at the University of Minnesota.

He was a killer-fast runner, aiding the U of MN running team to a top slot in the Army 10-miler in Washington D.C..

He was awarded the Bronze Star for Meritorious Service in Afghanistan.

Can I be singing his praises today, as he just completes three decades of his life?

He has degrees in Geography (B.S.) and Computer Science (B.S.) from the University of Minnesota, a school that is ranked 90 in the nation.

He has a brilliant wife and son, a home and an excellent job. He is a believer.

Such a quiet man, you’d never know how accomplished he is.

I just wanted to focus on him and his goodness, celebrate his life. I’m so thankful for him, and I love him so much. His dad was always so proud of him. I am.

May God bless his life with joy, peace, and love.

I know he has the hope that endures.

Bless you, dear one.

I have been slowly recovering from lack of sleep. My dad’s entrance to heaven was colored by exhaustion, and now, two weeks later, I opened a book on grief that my friend loaned me, read the first page and had my heart touched.

I shut it, not ready for the bawling and headache of grief.

This has been a week of tears.

I’ve had loss.

Maybe I haven’t been through a holocaust, a terrible war, famine, or plague. Still, I’ve known pain and grief.

Heartache is my theme.

I’ve been so tired I haven’t had brain time to think of what this latest loss portends for me. I always relied on my dad. I was his birthday present 60 years ago, and his quiet love and support for me was a “given.”

I’m glad for him.

Can I forge ahead on my own now?

Christmas songs are playing in the background. Cherie and I put up the tree, and I still have to clear the clutter of storage boxes. I wanted to write something though. The mournful songs of Christmas I can bear this year.

I couldn’t the last two Christmases.

This music has always moved my heart. I’m ready to have it moved. I think a dam is breaking in my soul.

In acceptance lies peace.

As Mary said to her God and Lord—“may it be as you say.”

What option do we have?

May it be as You say.

Come quickly, Lord.

Even so, come soon.

Maranatha.

I spent a few minutes reading some of “Imagine Heaven” by Burke this morning.

What a great book.

IN the past week we had a memorial service, a burial, family time, and joy.

Why joy?

Because we imagine heaven.

This world is so marked with suffering and pain, but I was reminded this morning that eternal suffering is a choice people make, a choice to stay separate from our Creator.

Once we are with Jesus all of this mess is forgotten. We’ll know things, but we will be undergirded with the grace of God.

That existence is perfect, in every respect.

But we’re still here. We still can encourage people to make good choices. We can love.

We can grit our teeth and forge through the difficult days, even smiling.

We can imagine heaven.

But we’re still here.

MARANATHA!

Seven years ago, when Brian and I moved out to the family farm, we thought ahead to the days when we’d be taking care of my mom and dad, who lived next door to the house we bought.

At that time my dad was in his late eighties, healthy, sharp, and strong.

Life ends, though.

Death is really a curse, but it is unavoidable (except for the Rapture, Enoch, and Elijah), and we must all reckon with the possibility.

A few months back I asked my dad: “Would you rather be raptured, or just go to be with Jesus?”

“It makes no difference to me!” he cheerfully replied.

Dad was a faithful man. He died on Tuesday.

On Monday he ate well, enjoyed a beautiful CD of spiritual music, listened to Irwin Lutzer, and moved around with his walker.

He brushed his teeth, walked over to his bed and had another stroke. This was the end. He passed away the next morning.

I say this to let you know how quickly and how mercifully the Lord took my dad to be with Him, how thankful I am for my dear dad, his long life, his wonderful kindness and generosity.

God blessed him.

Dad was born in Princeton, Minnesota just before the great depression. Times were really hard. His oldest sister was 20, and about to get married when he was born. He was the youngest of six children.

An older brother served in WWII, but dad had health issues, so he went to college instead. He became a teacher. He taught speech and history at the University of Minnesota Agricultural School up north in Crookston. He did that for ten years, married my mom (an RN) and had three kids.

He never really liked teaching, so he left it to come back to the family concrete business. He started building silos all across the state at dairy farms. You know those towers next to barns with checkered board design around the top? Those were their silos. The family business, which he ran with another of his older brothers, went well for two decades.

Good things come to an end sooner or later, and the farm crisis in the 80’s shut that business down.

Dad was such a good business man that he navigated that change as best he could. It wasn’t easy. Things were hard. I was attending Wheaton College, which was expensive, and he asked me to consider the University of Minnesota, which was cheap. I transferred. Times were hard. Life decisions.

Dad loved good preaching. He lived his faith. He was generous, helpful, a good counselor, and a great friend. He had a few lifetime friendships with people, and many, many people became friends with him along the way.

He was sweet and calm, content and trusting, quiet and very smart.

Sometimes we are known by our children. He was Jud’s dad, Bart’s dad, my dad. Each of us has him to thank for his steady presence in our lives.

When Jud was killed in a terrible accident with his wife, Mary, my dad grieved quietly. His faith dictated his measured and appropriate response. Terrible things were accepted with God’s grace. When his son in law died while hiking on the Appalachian Trail he was a tremendous source of comfort to the widow left behind, me.

He reminded me that time would keep marching on. That life goes on.

And that is what I think as I experienced his passing this week. I imagined that he would feel like he was in heaven for about 10 minutes before the rest of us all show up with the rapture….it would seem like that to him as he takes in the glory and the love of those who met him there.

Time is a creation of God, and I’d like to think that it flows differently in different dimensions. Dad is up there waiting, rejoicing, whole, well, complete, and praising God. It will seem like a brief moment.

This is our hope.

This is Christ’s power in us.

God is good.

We do not grieve without hope.

I asked several thousand people to pray for me a few days ago and I want to report that God answered prayer in a way that gave me joy.

Prayer is such an interesting thing. It isn’t magical. It isn’t a guarantee.

⁵ Now the one who has fashioned us for this very purpose is God, who has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.

2 Corinthians 5:5

Deposit and guarantee. I read this verse this morning in Daily Light. If you see this book at a thrift store snatch it up. I grew up with this little devotional, and it is a blessing. I’m often convicted that I use it perhaps like someone uses astrology, but it is pure Scripture, and it always seems appropriate for the day, a message for my heart to feast on.

But guarantees…I like this word. It means really. It’s going to happen. Promises kept. Hope.

IF you have the Spirit, you have a guarantee.

So, I’m back to my thankfulness, also the prayer that was offered up for me.

IF you think I’m petty about my prayer requests I’d understand. I pray about everything: parking spaces, merging in traffic, money stuff, words that I say, behaviors in the classroom, interactions with my children, losing weight, sleepiness, …

I pray about big things too: people’s salvation (my “snatch list”), Israel, the Rapture, China, politics…

Prayer is an invitation to get in on what God is doing. My prayers don’t change God, but they change me, making me hyper aware of the outcome.

I do ask for stuff.

I asked for a blessed weekend, safety, and sweet spirit, and I asked 4,000 people to pray for that with me last Friday.

My niece was married in Chicago on Saturday, and I was asked to participate in the wedding festivities, singing. It was my first long drive without Brian, solo, and I was tired from my life’s responsibilities. Driving while tired isn’t good.

I report that it went GREAT. Everything went GREAT.

The drive was beautiful. Perfect driving conditions. I stopped for coffee and I was never drowsy. The truck functioned perfectly. I’d taken it to be checked over at the dealer the day before.

The wedding was beautiful. The event was a three day affair, and I sang an old song that my niece wanted me to sing. That went fine.

My niece is a musician, a singer, and half of the guests were her musical entourage, those integral to her productions. The Lord helped quell my nerves in such an august crowd.

Half of the guests were Swedish, from Sweden, since my niece’s groom is Swedish. It was fun to meet them. I think they are all marine biologists. Seriously. Or at least several of them have something to do with the oceans and biology and education and whatever saves the earth.

There were sculptors and artists, designers and architects, fashion icons and beautiful people.

And I was there, too.

It was a beautiful thing, and I was happy to see God answering my prayer in a way that gave me joy, not sorrow.

There is still much to be prayed for. People need the Lord. No matter how beautiful you are, how famous, how rich—-YOU NEED JESUS.

I bless my niece, who has a sweet heart, who has seen dark times and dabbled with painful things. I’m praying for her marriage. I’m praying for dear ones to be saved.

Let’s see how God answers this prayer.

Today I’ll be back at the pool, the gym, and back to fasting. The weekend of fest is past. Anticipation has become reflection.

I reflect that God is good.

This is the month of thanks, and God is good.

Come, Lord Jesus!

Maranatha.