Another year older . . . and One More Together!

So much to be thankful for - especially the 24 years with my special man, Jim. What a joy to work along side him in Africa all these years. We came back to Nigeria just 3 weeks after our wedding . . . maybe not the wisest move we ever made, but we have been together . . . on this continent we both love . . . for all this time. So, THANK YOU, Jesus!
Is that a birthday present? Oh yeah . . . still enjoying those too. Special friends (The Siscos) hosted my birthday dinner . . . called it the "teeny bopper" menu (pizza, nachos, and chicken strips), and then blessed me with some very thoughtful gifts. My hubby bought me enough material for the tailor to set me up with a complete wardrobe before we begin our travels in US on deputation . . . again? Well, deputation number six is on the way and will be different this time . . . Candra (our youngest) with us for a few months (until she completes grade 12), and then it will be back to where we started . . . Jim and I . . . on the road again!
Really thankful I still have so much to celebrate . . . another year in Jesus and one more year together!

It's official . . . I'm another year older!

Is there ever any doubt in your mind . . . birthdays are special? As I get older, I appreciate each one more, but can hardly believe the numbers adding up . . . 50. . . 51. . . 52 . . . 53 . . . need I say more?
It's official . . . today is the day to add another number. I am thankful, and truly blessed. . . and have been enjoying all the birthday greetings coming via internet. . . facebook. . . Melinda's blogspot - first place I looked today. . . etc.
But nothing beats the hands-on greetings from my hubby (good morning hug and kiss, and a "Happy Birthday" as he ran out the door for National Board Meetings) and the special hug and "Happy Birthday" I got from Candra this morning too.
So, it is official . . . I am one year older today . . . with so much to be thankful for, and so many special folks (like you) to wish me a "Happy Birthday!"
God Bless You ALL, and I hope to return the favor on YOUR official day!

She's 17 already?!?!!!!

Well, there she is . . . our 17-year old baby girl . . . hard to imagine.

It is not difficult at all to remember the blond curls all over her head as a toddler.

I don't even have to try hard to see her walking around in every pair of grown-up shoes anyone happened to leave around.

She LOVED hats too . . . still does . . . and a swirly dress . . . that flows out when she makes a fast circle.

And those adorable eyes as she pulled on the coattail of men in the church asking, "Are YOU Bro. Pastor?" and then, "Can I give you a hug?" Got lots of PIMs that way as a traveling deputation family.

Seems like just yesterday for every one of those memories, but today. . . this vibrant, sensitive young lady lives in our house. She is caring and kind, and knows how to take care of sick folks, and little children too. When did this happen? Must have been while we were working in Ghana, staying busy, and helping her do school work (anything below 98 is a disaster in her opinion!).

17 years of the blessing of Candra in our home, and especially in our hearts.

We joined in the celebration on Friday, September 19 (the day after her September 18 birthday). And lots of her friends joined too . . . thank God for friends, and the joy of sharing. Wish you could have been with us, but thankful for your prayers and love for Candra . . . always.

17 already? THANK YOU JESUS!!!

A Day to Remember . . .

This is it . . . a day I will never forget.

No, I didn't make a mistake . . . I am not talking about September 11 (although that is a day the world will long remember).
September 9 . . . the day my world . . . my security and one of my lifelong anchors was loosed from this world.
September 9, 1990 . . . has it really been 18 years? I can remember so many things about that day . . . and some I don't have a clue. This is what I know. . .
My daddy . . . my special, wonderful . . . pastor, teacher, provider and friend was SO SICK!! Cancer was ravaging his strong, sturdy body, and causing agony of the worst kind.
He had been sick for 3 months . . . and it was getting worse every minute. Much prayer had been made. God heard, and He chose to take my Daddy home to be with Him.
I felt as though my heart was breaking. . . I didn't want to let go, but it was time.
I was there . . . holding his hand . . . on this day to remember.
It was Sunday night. My husband (Daddy's last son-in-law) had gone to the church Daddy turned over to him . . .as soon as he walked in the door from Africa.
Jim told all the saints, "If you want to see your pastor, you better go to the hospital right now". . . and they did.
We lived in a small town . . . had been there for 35 years, so we pretty much took over the hallways and waiting rooms of that hospital. . . but not for long. It was time, and God took Daddy home . . . as I held his hand. . . the last breath was gone.
I can still see and hear and feel everything going on in that room. . . but pretty much everything else was a blur.
The last thing he told me, "Take care of that baby girl (Melinda) and don't let her run out in the road." (This had always been one of his greatest fears about his grandchildren.)
He had lucid moments . . . even through the haze of morphine . . . and he would quote Scripture, or preach a short sermon (as long as his strength would hold out) and he kept telling us to "Hold on, and make it all the way."
Eighteen years . . . and every lesson I ever teach, every class I ever attend, every sermon I hear preached, I can hear my Daddy . . . in my mind, either telling me something I am hearing now. . .
or wiping the tears from his eyes as the Word goes forth. . .
or listening to the HALLELUJAHS that came forth as he rejoiced in the beauty of God's Word. . .
or jumping for joy that God's Word is so ALIVE!
He died . . . still in awe of the one who wrote that Word.
He left a love for that Word in my heart, and this is a day to remember . . . My Daddy . . . the one who passed His love for God's Word and its TRUTH to the next generation . . . that would be ME.
Thank You, Daddy! Thank You, SO MUCH! The day you left us is one I will never forget, and it is a day I will always remember how much you taught me . . . a Day to Remember!
Some of the things you used to say . . .

"Bear down on that when you pray . . ."
"Linda, keep your head screwed on straight, you hear?" (Your advice when Jim called to ask if he could marry me.)
"I hate to get 'em up, I hate to get 'em up, I hate to get 'em up in the mornin' " (sung to the tune of the Army revelry song . . .your favorite way to get me out of bed on a Saturday morning . . . complete with a tickle to the ribs)
"Neither is there salvation in any other, for there is none other name under heaven, given among men, whereby we must be saved" (Acts 4:12). (That verse was the one you quoted at the beginning of every radio program you ever preached or recorded to be aired.)

You lived well, loved hard, gave all, and finished your course. There are many days and times I remember something you said, or the way you would do things. But the legacy I appreciate most is that strong love for God's Word. . . I promise to share that with the next generation, and one day they will have something to remember!

. . . and THEN . . . there were THREE

The Poitras FOUR

(taken just five days before Melinda left Ghana)

August 4, 2008

Every family with children gets here . . . sooner or later. The first child leaves the nest, and the whole family shifts gears. One less plate; one less voice . . . heard in the halls and walls of the house; one less passenger in the vehicle. . .one less.
This is a natural process, and Thank God, it is not forever . . . just for a season and a time in life when the world (as you know it) is forever changed . . . different . . . in a good way.
It doesn't seem very good right now . . . today. She has finished two weeks of Bible school, and we give God the glory for that. But the adjustment is still going on . . . in her heart and ours too.
The siblings left behind . . . how do they adjust? Closeness is great . . . until it is time to let go. Then, it hurts deeper and lasts longer, but the closeness is still there. Understanding the pain, feeling the loss . . . so thankful it is not permanent . . . just temporary for now.
Mom's concerned about the wash . . . will the clothes survive? Will everything get lost, or put away and safe? Shoes in their boxes, clothes on their hangers. . . skirts and tops together? Hair fixed and things in their place? Probably not, but we tried. Someone else will plan the meals, set the table, and call the roll in classes.
The parent(s) left behind during the transition process . . . how do they feel? Left behind means left out, right? But no . . . not this time . . . except in the heart. Decisions to make . . . what do you think? Money to spend . . . is that really necessary? Where and what and when and who and why and how . . . did they think of that?
"Dad, I love you . . . and need you. . . and want to share my heart with you. . . and want you to know what happened today. . . and hope you are well. . . and wish I could give you a hug. . . and miss you so much!"
What about the classes? Will she be on time, homework done, studied and prepared? The foundation has been laid. . . the course set. . . the understanding clear . . . now it's up to her.
Calls on the phone (only certain times of the day & week) . . . IMing in the night. . . e-mails as much as possible. . . and many, many prayers.
This is how we go from FOUR to THREE . . . and God help us . . . soon it will be TWO!
This is how it works . . . how it should be . . . how we thank and praise God for our family . . . and then there were THREE.

Only a Grampy . . . or Grammy

Climbing Grampy's back. . .
riding on his shoulders. . .
giggling while he reads the story. . .
jumping up and down . . .
not really paying attention. . .
Can anybody do that?
Nope . . . just me . . . cause I'm so special to Grampy Poitras!
He loves to play with me, and he gets down where I am, or lets me climb up high. . . if he is sitting, lying down, or standing up . . . I get the best view possible! (Stephen Sisco tells all)


Want to learn piano? Well I did . . . but I didn't know about the practicing. Oh well, Mom and Dad help me with that, and Grammy helps me learn. We get extra hugs . . . I give them and she loves them!
We started this when I was five years old (I just turned six in July 2008), and it has been a challenge . . . but fun too!
Does Grammy teach anybody else? Nope . . . just me, cause she wants to share something she loves . . . playing the piano . . . and music.
I like getting stickers on my paper, cause music theory is easy . . . time signatures, quarter notes, half notes, forte (that means LOUD), repeat sign (that means go back and play again), bass clef (f clef), music staff (five lines and four spaces) . . . all these are great. And the cats on the keyboard (black notes by twos and threes). . . they help me a lot. I'm learning a new language . . . reading music!
Only a Grammy would help me with this. . . and we have a special day too. . . every Monday at TWO! (Allanah Sisco shares this scoop)

Only a Grampy or Grammy will do for some things . . . yeah!

One More "THANK YOU"

We heard from our friends in Malawi . . . their 13 year old son is seriously ill . . . needs a medivac to South Africa . . . now he's in a coma. Oh God, hear our prayer!

Now he's in South Africa (a miracle in itself with all the possible delays) but still in a drug-induced coma . . . "Hold him close in your arms, Jesus. . . and his family too!"

God loves our children . . . and He heard our prayers . . . Timo Simoneaux is improving . . . awake . . . alert . . . able to move although weak . . . "Thank You, Jesus!"

All this trauma taking place so close to home (he's an MK) . . . and yet so far. . .

And as we prepare . . . packing lockers, luggage, and document folders . . . sorting through stuff to keep ("Please, bring it later, Mom"); stuff to give away ("I won't use that in US"); and stuff to take with us ("I need that at IBC") . . . we can shout "HALLELUJAH" because . . .

So many reasons to give God glory . . . I just want to add one more. . .

Living in Africa all their lives (from seven weeks old) until this weekend when we will begin our "empty nest" experience . . . our girls have never suffered severe physical trauma of any type . . . TO GOD BE THE GLORY!

He heard our prayers (and yours too), He has been faithful . . . and I know He will continue to do, "exceeding, abundantly, above all that we ask or think . . ."

He has blessed and kept us from all harm and danger, and seen us through every sickness or distress. What a MIGHTY GOD we serve! We give Him ALL the glory . . . and add just ONE MORE THANK YOU!!!